Page 108 of Bonds of Hate

I think I always knew the doctor would come for me. He had made a single mistake one day, failing to secure one of my restraints before administering my daily dose of sedative. I had attacked him with the assumption that his response would be to finally kill me. I hadn’t expected to take him so much by surprise, staring down in shock at his prone form after I knocked him out with one blow from the metal tray that was the only available weapon at hand.

Even then, I knew I should have finished the job. I should have canted the end of that tray against his neck and smashed it down as hard as I could, as many times as it took to fracture his spine. Instead, I stole every credit chit on him I could find and fled into the night.

I didn’t have the stomach for murder then. Now, I’m about to pay for that weakness.

My only hope is if Thane didn’t recognize me. He couldn’t possibly have expected me to be here, wouldn’t think to look for me in a sea of unfamiliar people.

But it’s still only a matter of time before he discovers me. He has somehow become the High Inquisitor, able to question anyone and go anywhere in the palace with impunity. It would be too easy for him to access me.

Take me back.

Finish what he started.

Which is why another quick escape is my only option.

Empty corridors stretch ahead of me, entirely deserted and eerily quiet. I haven’t passed a single guard in my stumbling flight back to the harem. While Logan and theothers are still distracted at dinner, I’ll grab whatever I can carry of value from the apartment and then figure out a way out of the palace.

I’ll just have to leave my next step open-ended for now. The alternative would have me curled up into a ball on the floor because there are just no good options. There are no options for me at all.

Breaking my mating contract with Logan will make me a true fugitive. The financial and criminal penalties will strip me of what little freedom I have left if I’m caught. Fertile Omegas are rarely forced into work camps, but something tells me an exception might be made for me if both a High Inquisitor and a prince want to see me suffer.

For a breathless moment, I consider going to Logan with all of it. Throwing myself at his mercy and pledging my loyalty if he’ll protect me, regardless of his lies of omission.

But that claiming mark speaks volumes about his character. His reaction to my obvious fear at dinner is just more evidence of who he really is. And how little I can trust him.

The irony of it all burns at me. I came to the palace seeking safety, only to find myself trapped between a possessive Alpha who sees me as property and the monster who once carved me open for his experiments.

No. Leaving is my only option.

I come across the same portrait of Queen Midale three times before I realize that my ruminating has me going around in circles. I’ve never walked from the ballroom back to the harem on my own and I realize with a sinking sensation that I have no idea where I’m going.

When the first boom shakes the corridor, I mistake it for the frantic racing of my own heart.

The second explosion hits closer, the force sending me stumbling into the wall. The third follows immediately after, and the floor beneath my feet bucks like a living thing.

Dust rains from the ceiling. The walls shudder and groan. Paintings crash to the floor, their frames splintering. The electric lights flicker once, twice, then die completely.

My knees give out. I slide down the wall, arms wrapped around my head as chunks of plaster hit the floor around me. The thundering chaos drowns out my own panicked breathing.

A tight beam of light cuts through the darkness. A guard sprints past, flashlight bouncing wildly. His mouth moves, shouting something at me, but my ears are ringing too badly to make out the words. Before I can call out to him, he disappears around the corner.

I force myself back to my feet, using the wall for support. Emergency lights flicker to life, casting everything in an eerie red glow. I pick a direction at random and start moving.

Left, right, straight ahead? None of the corridors look familiar in the crimson emergency lighting. My bare feet crunch over broken glass and debris. The air grows thick with dust, making my eyes water and throat burn.

I round another corner and stop dead. The entire hallway ahead has collapsed. Broken beams jut from a mountain of rubble that reaches to the ceiling. The entrance hall for the harem is now a dead-end.

The floor trembles again. Another explosion, but further away this time. Small avalanches of debris cascadedown the blocked corridor. I back away, heart hammering. I need to find another way out before the entire palace comes down around me.

I squint through the dusty red haze, spotting a silhouette at the far end of the corridor. Relief floods through me.

“Hello?” My voice comes out hoarse from the debris-filled air. “Please, I need help finding?—”

The figure takes a step forward, body language relaxed. Something about the movement sends ice water trickling down my spine. Wrong. Everything about it is wrong.

Another step. The emergency lights paint crimson shadows across the face that haunts my nightmares. The same clinical curiosity exists in those dead eyes. I remember that same slight tilt of his head, like I’m a fascinating specimen pinned to his examination table.

“This diversion worked even better than I could have expected. I never guessed I could stumble upon you so easily.” Thane’s voice carries the same detached interest it did during those endless hours of torture. As if my suffering was merely an inconvenient necessity for his research. “It’s time to come home, dearest.”

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