Page 91 of Bonds of Obsession

A sleek Siamese cat emerges from under the bed holding its tail high. Because of fucking course there’s a cat. Like this wasn’t complicated enough already.

“We can’t—” I start to shake my head, but Killian interrupts me.

“We’ll handle it.” There’s something in his voice that makes me turn.

The cat winds between his legs, purring, and his face softens in a way I’ve only seen a couple of times before, and only when I’ve been alone with him.

“Really?” Celine asks, hope creeping into her voice.

He nods. “We’ll make sure she’s looked after. I’ll make sure.”

“Fine.” I sigh. “Get her carrier if she has one.”

“In the closet,” Celine says, already moving. “Princess, come here baby.”

The cat settles into her carrier without fuss, like she knows something’s changing. Maybe animals can sense shit like that.

“Thank you,” Celine whispers to Killian. “She’s all I had, some days.”

He just nods, but I see something deep and wounded flash in his eyes. Sometimes I forget that under all that muscle and violence, he’s got his own scars and demons. His own need to protect the innocent.

“Time to die,” I tell Celine, pulling out the bags of blood we’ve brought for the final phase of our plan. Her eyes widen until I explain. “We need everyone to think you’re dead, or they’ll never stop looking.”

“Where’s the best place?” Nico asks her. “Where would someone expect you to hide?”

She swallows hard. “The bathroom. He—he always said that’s where he’d do it. When I stopped being useful.”

“Fucking bastard,” Atlas mutters.

“Show us,” I say gently.

She leads us to a massive bathroom, all white marble and gold fixtures. I tear down the shower curtain while Nico starts working with the blood bags.

“It’s pig blood,” he explains when he sees Celine watching. “Close enough to human to fool the people who will come looking for you.”

“We need to make it look like you fought back,” I tell her, smearing bloody handprints across the shower wall.

We work together, adding the little touches that make a scene feel real. Overturned bottles. Blood spatter at the right height. A few strands of her hair pressed into the “blood.”

“Enough?” Killian asks after we’ve used both bags.

I step back, studying our work. It looks like someone died here. Violently. “Yeah. This would convince the hell out of me.”

“What about my… my body?” Celine says nervously.

“Don’t worry,” I assure her. “That’s what’s next. Unfortunately, it’s also the hardest part. We need to carry you out like you’re dead. Covered in a blanket.”

Panic flashes across her features. “What if someone stops us?”

“They won’t,” Nico says, simply.

“But if they do,” Atlas adds, “we’ll handle it.”

Killian steps forward and begins draping a clean sheet across her body. “I’ve got you,” he says quietly. “Just stay still and trust me.”

“Still as a corpse,” she whispers, trying to smile.

“Exactly.” He wraps her carefully, then lifts her like she weighs practically nothing. “Is this okay on your stomach? Can you breathe?”

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