Page 55 of Bound to the Guard

“Good boy.” Caleb turns to us. “We’ll be moving back into my old suite across the hall for a while, so you’ll have plenty of time to catch up next week.”

Hand lifting in farewell, Caleb strides out of the room, Oliver closing the door behind them.

I gape after them before turning to Damien. “Is my brother being abused?”

“Oh, sweetheart, no.” Damien cups my cheeks. “Our brothers are just into some kinky shit, and they don’t care if they make it everyone else’s problem. Never, ever, go into their suite. Every surface is filthy.”

“Oh.” Blood rushes to my cheeks. “I didn’t need to know that about my brother.”

“Better to be forewarned, so you’re prepared in case you walk in on something.” Another knock sounds at the door, and this time, Damien brings in our food cart. “If they’re going to be living here, youwillwalk in on them at some point. I’ll tell Caleb the music room is forbidden, though. They are not allowed to sully your space.”

I trail over to the dining table. “Areyouinto kinky shit?”

“Nope.” He pulls out the chair I sat in last time before he unloads the meal options. “We may be identical twins, but we have very different preferences.”

“Except in mates.” I settle onto the seat. “Out of everyone in the world, you guys chose brothers.”

Damien pauses before setting a glass of apple juice in front of me. “Is this your way of telling me you want to be put over my knee and spanked?”

I bolt out of the chair and get halfway across the room before I register his laughter. Glaring, I turn back to him.

“It was a joke. Come back over here.” He pats my abandoned seat. “I have zero interest in spanking you, or anything else those two get up to.”

Lips pursed, I return to the table and crawl onto the cushion. “That’s not funny.”

“It was a little funny.” He pulls my chair over to butt up against his. “You’re surprisingly fast.”

I press up to his side. “Joke like that again, and you can sleep on the couch.”

“Yes, sir.” He presses a kiss to my temple. “Now, where do you want to start?—”

He cuts off to pull his phone from his pocket, and the laughter vanishes.

I lean closer. “What’s wrong?”

“The hit team is gathered and ready.” He pulls me closer. “Tonight, we take down the Doctor.”

18

The monitors in Sebastian’s office hum, the quiet shuffle of feet and breathing filtering through the speakers. The hit team’s body cams show them approaching the dirty white building of the Doctor’s laboratory, and my heart races, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin. I grip my blanket closer, inhaling Damien’s calming pheromones.

Sebastian sits at his control station, while Milo paces behind him, the light tap of his shoes echoing in the small room.

“Okay, team, you’re coming up on the south entrance now,” Milo says into his headset, his melodic voice clipped as he briefs Damien’s team.

I try to focus on his words, but my mind keeps drifting, pulled between the loving present and painful flashbacks. Was it selfish of me not to talk Damien out of rushing this mission? Should I have told him the Doctor wasn’t important enough, and that the lab should wait until the larger-scale attack on all the known associates was ready, when more soldiers would be available?

The thought fills me with nauseating guilt, and I wonder if I should have listened to Damien and stayed in our suite. But thethought of waiting alone, not knowing what was happening, sent me into a spiral of anxiety that nearly sent me under the bed to hide.

The camera feeds switch as the team enters the building, white-walled corridors and metal doors filling the screens.

The familiar sights hit me like a punch to the gut, and I dig my fingers into the armrests, fighting the urge to flee as phantom sensations assault me.

Cold metal restraints biting into my skin.

Searing pain.

Muffled screams that might be my own.

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