Page 49 of Burdened Bonds
“Wh-what?” The bile sinks down my throat, and I look back up at his face. Calculating now.
“Pig girl – I hear that’s what you students call the girl.” I flinch. “You attacked her several weeks ago. What provoked you?”
“It wasn’t me,” I say feebly, “it was the beast.” The beast bristles inside me as if outraged at my betrayal.
“This is the pathetic excuse the chancellor gullibly swallowed for all these years. You’re one and the same – both dirty, deranged mutts,” he spits. “Why the Blackwaters girl? You were at the academy for three years and she was the only one you ever exposed your true nature to.”
“I can’t pretend to understand the mind of the beast. We are not the same. We are different.”
“Nonsense!” Christopher Kennedy shouts, making the two soldiers in the cell jolt. “There must have been a reason. What is it about this girl? What is special about her?”
“She isn’t special. She’s a nobody from–”
Christopher Kennedy scoffs. “I’ve heard that before and I don’t believe it. Tell me the reason.”
I glare up at him and don’t say a word.
He examines my stubborn face. Does he believe me? Idoubt it. He must know his nephew is bonded to her. Does he know about her other mates too? About the professor? About his son?
“If you refuse to tell me, Moreau, then we’ll have to find a way to loosen your tongue.” He nods to the first soldier, who steps forward cracking his knuckles.
He grins at me, his stupid face flashing with malice.
Then he draws back his fist like he did before and hits me square on the chin. My head flies back with the force of the blow and I feel the bone crack, see stars dart across my vision. The pain splinters through my skull, igniting all that pain from before.
I take a deep inhale, then rock my head forward. I spit blood out onto the floor and glare up at the soldier rubbing his bruised knuckles.
“You get a kick out of beating a bound man?” I ask him. “You want to unchain me and make this a fair fight?”
“I get a kick out of beating a monster like you,” he spits and then he hits me again. And again. And again.
21
Tristan
My father wantsto retain a semblance of normality, convince all the people – magicals and normals alike – that nothing has changed and anything that has is for the better. The chancellor may be locked away in a cell somewhere, along with other ‘enemies’ of the state, but things will continue as they always have. Only now, under the Lord Protector’s care, we’ll all be safer.
Does anyone actually believe that bullshit? Or are they just too spineless to complain, to protest, to ask the obvious questions?
It doesn’t matter. He wants me back at the academy and Ellie back at her father’s house. I have little choice but to obey. He’s having me guarded around the clock by the best of his men, and while I’m sure I could out-power them one-on-one, I face little chance one-on-four, especially when I’mstill recovering, still building back my powers, still weakened by my separation from Rhi.
Perhaps when I’m back at the academy, I’ll have more opportunities to slip away. More chances of finding out what’s happened to Azlan and the professor, to Spencer and Winnie. To Rhi. I can feel her through the bond, distant, and though I strain with all my might to get a better read on her emotions, on where the hell she is, it’s useless.
Yes, the academy is the best place for me. The separation from my mate has me feeling half mad; pain I can’t understand lingers in my gut and the temptation to do something stupid, to tear down the world just to get to her, is severe and ever-looming. Acting normal – like I don’t give a shit about anything – like I’m not dying inside because of this separation – is becoming harder and harder. Especially under my father’s watchful eyes. At least at the academy, it won’t be him watching me.
He has his men drive me back to the academy – one sitting either side of me in the back seats, as if they half expect me to jump from the speeding car. It’s mighty fucking tempting. But I remain where I am, my nails digging deep into my palms, so fucking deep I’m drawing blood. I watch as the hill comes into view, the academy resting on its brow. Work to rebuild has already begun, scaffolding ringing what remains of the burned-out carcass of the mansion.
Once again, my mind is drawn to those dragons. Where did they come from? And more importantly where did they go?
It makes no fucking sense. The Western forces were winning, they were beating us. They had dragons for fuck’s sake. Why did they retreat? There was no reason, no need. They could have overtaken the republic completely.
I’m beginning to suspect that nothing was as it seemed. That those soldiers weren’t from the West at all. That the entire attack was all my father’s doing. His chance to grab control.
It’s a thought that’s still niggling away at me as the car comes to a halt outside what remains of the mansion and one of the men opens the door, sliding out and then waiting for me to do the same. He stands guard beside me as the principal comes hurrying across the gravel towards me. She looks immaculate as always, dressed in her usual tweed suit, but there’s something different about her demeanor. She seems skittish, nervous, she twists her hands against her skirt and she offers me a look of consolation.
“Mr. Kennedy, I’m so pleased to have you back but so very sorry to hear about your mother. She was a,” she hesitates, “wonderful woman.”
“Thank you,” I say, “she was.”
