Page 134 of Bonds of Pain
Cillian moves with surprising speed for someone of his wiry build. His body launches toward the Inquisitor like a pale missile, fists already swinging as he screams for me to run. I freeze, unable to move, unable to tear my eyes from what happens next.
One of the mercenaries steps forward, weapon raised, but Cillian is faster than anyone expected. His hand shoots out, palm connecting with the man’s throat in a vicious strike that sends the guard staggering backward, gasping and clutching at his crushed windpipe. The man’s eyes bulge as he drops to his knees, unable to breathe.
Thane backs away, alarm flashing across his usually impassive face. He clearly didn’t expect Cillian to have any fight left in him after the torture he endured.
But the momentary victory is short-lived. The second mercenary catches Cillian from behind, muscular arms wrapping around his chest in a crushing grip. Cillian manages to slam his head backward, connecting with the mercenary’s nose with a sickening crunch.
Blood sprays, but the mercenary doesn’t release his hold.
“Hold him still,” Thane barks, reaching into his pocket.
Cillian’s ice-blue eyes meet mine for one desperate moment, a thousand unspoken words passing between us. Then Thane plunges the needle into his neck, and Cillian’s body goes instantly limp.
The mercenary lets him collapse to the floor, where he lies motionless, his pale hair fanned out against the cold concrete. His chest still rises and falls in shallow breaths, but his eyes stare sightlessly at the ceiling.
Thane tucks the empty syringe back into his pocket, looking almost bored. As he returns his attention to where I’ve backed into a corner. “Just a little something to keep him manageable. Don’t worry, I need him alive for the next stage of my research.” He tilts his head to the side, expression practically reptilian. “Now, are you going to keep fighting a war you can’t win, or are you going to come quietly?”
As one of the mercenaries advances toward me, and the other hefts Cillian’s unconscious body into his arms. I wonder why I ever thought escape would be possible.
“I assume you have the king’s blessing for this,” I state, because it isn’t a question.
Thane answers me anyway. “No one is more important than our cause, not even an Omega as pretty as you are.”
“He would sacrifice his own son’s mate?”
Thane’s hand closes around my wrist, pulling me closer as I feel the prick of a needle on the side of my neck. “You shouldn’t ask questions when you already know the answers.”
Freedom has always been an illusion.
There is nowhere to run in a world that deserves to burn.
Chapter Thirty-Six
LOGAN
Istorm into my father’s office without waiting for the guard to announce me. The heavy oak doors slam against the wall with a satisfying crash that matches the fury boiling through my veins.
“Why did you have my pack arrested?” I demand, my voice echoing in the cavernous room.
My father looks up from the document he’s reviewing, his expression one of practiced disinterest. He dismisses his attendant from the room with a casual flick of his wrist before leaning back in his ornate chair.
“I wondered how long it would take you to come charging in here.” He sighs, setting down his pen. “Your predictability is becoming tedious, Logan.”
“Answer the question.”
His sardonic smile deepens. “Would you prefer I have you arrested instead?”
I freeze, my outrage momentarily replaced by a cold thread of fear. “What does that mean?”
“Come now,” he says drolly, gesturing for me to take a seat across from him. “You can drop the act. I’ve known about Ander for quite some time.”
The floor seems to shift beneath my feet. I remain standing, unwilling to show any sign of weakness. “What exactly do you think you know?”
My father studies me with clinical detachment. “That you killed your brother. That you staged the body to make it look like an accident.” He waves a dismissive hand. “The details are irrelevant at this point. But someone does have to be held responsible.”
My mind races. If he’s known all along, why wait until now to make a move? Why name me heir if he knows I murdered Ander?
“My pack had nothing to do with Ander’s death,” I insist.
