Page 75 of Bonds of Pain
I squint up at Poe’s serious face. I reach up to touch his cheek but miss completely. “Your eyes are so pretty. All dark and watchful.”
When I sway again, Poe has to catch me tighter around the waist.
“Logan isn’t back yet, so just let me put her to bed,” Ares suggests. “By rights, it should be my night with her, anyway.”
“One thing first,” Poe murmurs as he swings me around and sets me down on a nearby chair. He takes a second to steady me when I sway to the side before backing away. Then he hauls off and punches Ares square in the jaw, hard enough that the larger man is sent flying against the wall. “Disappear with her again and I’ll rip your balls off with my bare hands.”
Ares pushes off the wall with a grumble, rubbing his jaw where Poe’s fist connected.
“Duly noted,” he mutters, shooting a dark look at Poe before turning his attention back to me.
I’m still swaying in the chair, the world spinning in lazy circles around me. Ares approaches cautiously, like I might bite. Or vomit on him. Both seem equally possible right now.
“Come on, princess. Let’s get you to bed.”
I giggle as he lifts me into his arms again. “I’m not a princess. Not yet. Logan hasn’t married me.”
“As good as,” Ares says, carrying me down the hallway toward his bedroom.
The motion makes my stomach roll.
“Don’t drop me,” I mumble against his chest, breathing in his bourbon-chocolate scent. It’s comforting in a way I don’t want to examine too closely.
“Never,” he says, his voice unusually gentle.
When we reach his room, Ares nudges the door open with his foot and carefully sets me down beside the bed. The world tilts dangerously, and I grab his arm to steady myself.
That’s when I see it.
At first, the shape of pillows and blankets on the bed just seems strangely chaotic. The mounds have an odd structure and are messier than any Omega, even in the wild throes of heat would create, but it’s still obvious what it is.
A nest.
The memory of it is suddenly at the forefront of my mind. Ares comforting me during that stage of heat that was so early I didn’t even know it was happening. His attempts to help me were fumbling, inexperienced and entirely genuine.
Something inside me cracks open, and before I can stop it, tears flood my eyes and spill down my cheeks.
“Maya?” Ares sounds alarmed. “What’s wrong? Are you going to be sick?”
I shake my head, unable to speak through the sobs that rack my body. I sink to my knees beside the bed, pointing at the messy nest.
“You...you kept it,” I finally manage, my words slurring through tears.
Ares looks between me and the nest, clearly confused by my reaction. “I...yeah? It was nice. Smelled like you.”
That just makes me cry harder. The lingering effect of that damn honey beer has temporarily dismantled all my carefully constructed walls, leaving me raw and exposed. I can’t even explain why I’m crying. Is it because he made the nest in the first place or because he kept it.
“Hey, hey,” Ares crouches beside me, his large hands hovering awkwardly near my shoulders like he’s afraid to touch me. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry. I can get rid of it if you want.”
“No!” The word bursts out of me, surprising us both. “No, don’t get rid of it.”
Ares settles on the floor beside me, his expression bewildered. “I don’t understand what’s happening right now.”
Neither do I. I’m crying over a pile of blankets that represents the moment my freedom was stolen. Yet I can’t bear the thought of him destroying it.
“It’s just...” I hiccup, trying to gather my scattered thoughts. “I’m really tired.”
Ares’s face softens, and he tentatively wraps an arm around my shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you into bed.”
