Page 30 of Bonds of Pain
I don’t want him to stop. More than anything else, I want to lose myself in the midst of whatever twisted thing exists between us.
Which is exactly why I shove at his shoulders, knowing the weakened gesture is nowhere near enough to move him if he doesn’t want to be moved.
But Poe immediately drops his hands and takes a step back. The sudden absence of his body heat feels like a loss even though I’ve demanded it.
The surge of lust and violence hasn’t left his eyes, but restraint stiffens the set of his shoulders as he stares down at me.
“Is that stop just for now or is it for always?”
I haven’t forgotten that this is a game, that I have to do what it takes to stay close enough to find a weakness to exploit. But at this moment, I don’t have to lie to him.
“For now.”
“Where the hell have you been?”
Logan is already waiting for us by the time Poe and I get back to the apartment. He stands in the entryway, arms crossed and a bullish expression on his face, with Cillian as a silent shadow behind them.
I hate them both so much that I can barely stand it.
Poe is relaxed enough to barely react, shrugging off the glare Logan levels at him. Our walk back to the apartment had been in companionable silence, as if all the tension has been drained right out of him.
Apparently, a little bit of murder and a rough make-out session does wonders for his mood.
Logan turns his attention to me, frown deepening as his golden eyes flash with barely contained fury. “What were you doing?”
I open my mouth to respond, but Poe beats me to it.
“Interrogating a prisoner. The guard who let the attackers in.” Poe’s tone is casual, as if discussing something mundane like the weather, instead of extrajudicial torture.
Logan’s gaze shifts between us, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Without informing me first?”
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. Always about control with him. Just once, I wish someone would tell him to go fuck himself.
“It was time-sensitive,” Poe continues, unperturbed. “We found out they were targeting Omegas in the palace.”
Logan’s jaw clenches. “And where is this prisoner now?”
Poe shrugs. “Dead. He tried to attack Maya.”
Logan’s eyes widen, his attention snapping back to me. “He what?”
“She was never in any real danger,” Poe says, a hint of pride in his voice. “She managed to stab him in the stomach before I finished him off.”
Ares, who I hadn’t noticed lounging in the corner, perks up at this. “What happened to the knife after you stabbed him?”
I shift uncomfortably under his scrutiny. “I might have left it in him. Out of surprise.”
“I figured. That’s a classic rookie mistake.” Ares barks out a laugh. First rule of hand-to-hand combat, never relinquish your weapon.”
“The Enclave taught us a lot of things,” I reply dryly. “Combat training wasn’t one of them. But I’ll try to keep that advice in mind for next time.”
Ares’s expression darkens at the reference to a next time. Considering everything I’ve already been through after just a few days at the palace, he shouldn’t be surprised.
“We should do something about that,” he mutters.
“There won’t be a next time,” Logan says dangerously, gaze fixed on me. “My Omega won’t be put in harm’s way again. Something like this happens again, and he’ll be lucky if I let her leave the bedroom.”
Ares gives him a strange look. “I think you mean our Omega. We’re still a pack, last I checked.”
