Page 3 of Burdened Bonds
Gentle, gentle.
Her head fits beneath my chin, her soft hair tickling against my throat and her breath flows across my skin like wind on the plain. As if she’s trying to breathe life into me. Is that what this is? Have I always been dead? Dead inside, right? Am I finally coming to life?
The song withers on my lips as I listen to the song of her instead. The rhythm of her breath, the beat of her heart. Swinging back and forth between the two.
I’m tired. It’s been a fucking long day. I can feel sleep sucking me under.
“I did some digging, little rabbit,” I whisper to her. “About your mom.” The pig lifts his head and glances at me. “Yeah,” I say, my eyes drifting shut. “Seems the professor isn’t the only one who’s good at learning stuff.”
3
Spencer
We travelin silence with all the lights of the truck we’ve commandeered cut out. The battle may be over, but we don’t know what lies out there in wait for us or whether another strike may be weaving its way towards us at this very minute.
Tristan lies cocooned in my arms. He’s waning, with every minute that passes slipping away and I curse under my breath and tell the professor to put his goddamn foot on the gas. Rhi’s friend glances at Tristan’s ashen face and then my own, then rests her hand upon my arm. So recently transformed from wolf form, her touch makes me flinch, my body sensitive, tender. But I know she means well, and though I want to scream at her too, I bite my tongue. It won’t do any good. We need to deliver Tristan to his family, and then we need to find Rhi.
The concerned expressions etched on the enforcer andthe professor’s faces tell me they have about as much idea about where she is as I do. But at least she must be alive. The enforcer is her bonded mate. If anything had happened to her, if she were … I screw up my eyes. He’d know. He’d feel it. Fuck, would he feel it!
There must be a way to find her. There must be.
The beast inside me is silent and I’m surprised by it. I expected him to be raving and riling, straining to be released. Desperate to find her, tearing down walls, thundering across the countryside. Shit, hitching a lift on the back of a dragon just to get to her. However, although he’s as aggravated as I am to find the girl, he isn’t fighting this course of action. For once, we’re in agreement. We need to save Tristan Kennedy, although I suspect our motives for doing so are different.
We hit a series of bumps in the road, our bodies buffeting about, Rhi’s friend falling against the boy next to her – her date – as he grabs for the handle hanging from the vehicle’s roof, then we veer around a corner and the big houses of the capital’s expensive suburb comes into view. They’re mostly untouched – only the buildings in the city’s center are captured in flames – and I wonder how many of the great families are holed up inside, sheltering, and how many were out fighting for our freedom. I think of my own mom, my own dad, far from here. Are they safe? Shame swims through me, making me wince when I realize it’s the first time tonight I’ve thought of them. All my focus has been on Tristan and Rhianna.
There are no other vehicles on the road, the tree-lined streets deserted, and we soar along out to the mound, out to the Kennedy place, its large iron gates standing guard against the world.
For a moment, I expect them to remain like that – closed –barring our entrance, but the magical charm kicks in and they part for the heir of the family and his kin.
Stone skids the truck to a halt in front of the mansion’s steps and I stare up at the house. All the lights are out. But that’s not unusual. It was never somewhere that screamed life and party and all that crap. It always gave me the fucking creeps.
The man in black opens the door for me, offers to take Tristan, but I refuse. He’s my friend. I found him. I’m not letting him go just yet. Not until I know he’s safe.
I ignore the niggle at the back of my mind, the one whispering to me, telling me how ill he looks, how close to death he must be. I ignore the whiff of death I keep catching in his scent as well. Refuse to goddamn acknowledge it. I won’t let him die. Not him too.
Not him too! As much a brother to me as my own was.
The others trail behind me as I race him up the steps, the great doors drawing open as I near, and the figure of his mom stepping out into the night, her face as pale as her son’s, her hands shaking.
“Tristan?” she asks with trepidation, peering at the body in my arms.
“Yes, Ma’am,” I step forward, half expecting her to shrink away, “Tristan.”
“Bring him inside,” she instructs, glancing at the others crowding around me. “Azlan,” she says, addressing the enforcer, “your father and uncle have gone to the council building.”
The enforcer is already turning on the steps, descending three at a time. “I have to go,” he calls out.
“You’re going to join them?” his aunt asks.
“No, I have to … Rhianna …”
“Azlan?” Tristan’s cousin appears in the doorway beside her aunt. “Azlan, what’s wrong?”
The man in black freezes, then turns again, racing up the steps. His sister runs to meet him, flinging herself into his arms as they wrap each other in a tight embrace.
“Ellie, you’re okay?” he asks, releasing her.
“Yes, but …” she trails off as she sees her cousin for the first time. Her gaze jumps back to her brother in alarm. “Rhi?”
