Page 24 of Forbidden Bonds
My body is coiled tight with aggression. My brain is like a pinball machine, lighting up so many sectors in quick succession that I can’t keep pace. “Don’t insult her, Lucian. Not ever.”
“Message received.” He carefully peels my fingers from around his throat. “I need a drink for this. Want one?”
I step back. “Yeah.”
Lucian heads over to grab two beers from the refrigerator, returns, and shoves one into my hand. He prefers whiskey… but I guess this is early. His office’s window faces the club. The strip lights are on as the clean-up crews are busy at work.
He drops down into one of the couches.
My eyes go to the elevator door. She’s in the same building, a few minutes away. Why the fuck do I feel so anxious? With a last lingering look at the elevator, I stalk over to sit down opposite.
“You’ve crossed the line, mated her when you definitely shouldn’t. But it’s done,” Lucian says. “We’ll deal with it, together. But I swear to fucking god, you need to get your head out of your ass. Self-pity never suited you. You’ve got a mate now—time to up your game. Going outside is overrated anyway. And it’s not your fault that you can’t. We’ve all got issues, some are bigger than others, some are harder to work around than others.”
“I need to tell her.” I thought I was in love once. A long time ago now. I can still remember her laughing when I told her about my phobia. She thought I was joking. Then she realized I wasn’t, and shit got awkward real quick. I didn’t have money back then. Lucian was conscripted, and I was living in a dump on the little money he made. Alpha soldiers aren’t supposed to have grown-ass dependents who can’t get a job for themselves, and they certainly don’t get paid like they do.
“She’s not Lara,” Lucian says bluntly. “And something tells me she has her own demons to deal with. Tell her. Do it sooner rather than later. Deal with how she reacts. Whatever that is, I’ll back you.” He shrugs and smirks. “And if we need to hide a body, you know I’ve got you covered.”
I growl. “You have a sick sense of humor.”
Larissa
He’s gone. The oppressive sensation of being alone hits me like a blow. The simple act of breathing becomes a challenge. It’s like somebody’s ripping a chunk out of me.
It hurts. God, how can it hurt so much?
I stumble to my feet and pad into the lounge. A faint tendril of his scent lingers. It leads straight to the elevator doors.
I’m completely naked, covered in crusted cum; I’m filthy. But I don’t even hesitate to stab the call button. It doesn’t light up, which is when I notice the fingerprint recognition plate above it.
I bang on the elevator doors before glancing around the room as if there are going to be hidden cameras. Nothing obvious.
“Rhett!”
No answer comes. My legs give out. I drop to my knees.
God, where has he gone? What if he doesn’t come back? What if Ethan turns up, or somebody from the government, and takes me away?
Long minutes pass. The elevator remains shut. No soldiers arrive to drag me away. Nor a hate-filled Ethan Black.
Rhett doesn’t come either.
My knees are starting to ache. My stomach rumbles. I push myself up. I’ve felt worse, haven’t I? This is nothing. So what if it feels like somebody scooped a hole out of my chest? He will come back. We’re bonded now.
Only something’s wrong. Terribly wrong. I hear his words.“You just bonded yourself to the biggest loser in the universe.”
He doesn’t live like one. Not here. This place is staggering in its wealth. Maybe it’s Lucian’s. Maybe he’s just staying here. Maybe he’s done something terrible once, a crime, maybe. One so heinous it does not bear consideration.
I shake my head. I’ve been inside his mind, albeit briefly. No terrible dark secrets lingered, and I’ve seen my share of monsters, so I would spot the signs, wouldn’t I? But still… there’s something off-kilter about him. I’m reaching out, I realize, trying to read his mind, although he is gone. And now I try, I get the sensation that he’s not as far away as I feared. Still in the building somewhere, and that comforts me.
I shiver. It’s not cold, but it’s certainly not warm in the apartment. I need to clean up. To eat. In the past, when terrible things happened, I always felt better for being clean, washing away bad memories, my pain, and my mistakes.
Resolute, I head through into the bedroom, my eyes catching the pile of nesting material, and the bare mattress. I walk past both and head into the shower.
With the water nice and hot, I begin to wash. The steam smells faintly of him. His products are lined up neatly, and I use them liberally, washing away his scent, but replacing it with something that is his.
I feel better for being clean. The water running down the invisible drain is soothing. I’m wounded inside, the heart kind of wound… and I’m definitely sore and tender all over my body.
I’m not a virgin anymore, am I? I experienced something with an alpha—something I never thought I would. Nobody can take that away from me. That’s mine now. I’m claiming it.
