Page 113 of Bonds of Hate

“Nope.”

“Then she should be back in the harem. The King has tasked Logan to oversee the clean-up and repair of the east wing.”

I pull a pillow over my head. Now that I’m fully awake, my sleepiness has evaporated. But that doesn’t mean I haveany intention of leaving this bed. “Sounds like you should be talking to Logan, then.”

“I did. He told me to get you.”

The familiar pull to follow orders tingles between my shoulder blades. Fucking pack hierarchy. “Where’s Poe?”

“On an adventure, apparently.” Cillian’s tone is sardonic. “Last time he checked in, he said he was hunting down one of the attackers that might have escaped.”

Which probably means someone will have to die bloody before Poe finally makes his way back.

I push up on my elbows with a groan. Jostling the bed makes Maya shift slightly. She lets out the cutest snuffling sound before burying herself further in the blankets. Her scent has lost its edge of anxiety, leaving the soft scent of fizzing cherry suffused in the bedding.

“Logan is waiting,” Cillian prods.

“You can’t expect me to leave her here alone. The palace was just attacked.”

“We’ve already installed biometric locks on the door and assigned vetted guards. She’ll be fine.”

“She needs food for when she wakes up.”

With a sigh, Cillian makes a few taps on his tablet. “I’ll have something sent up.”

I glare at him. “You could at least pretend like you care.”

He raises a questioning eyebrow. “Why would I do that?”

I drag myself out of bed, careful not to disturb Maya. My muscles protest after spending the last few hours in an awkward position to avoid crushing her smaller frame.

“Fine. But I’m coming right back after we deal with whatever Logan needs.”

“Of course you are.” Cillian’s tone drips with sarcasm.

I grab a fresh shirt from my dresser, pulling it over my head as I follow him to the door. The fabric catches on my stubble, reminding me I need to shave.

“You know, you could try being less of an asshole about this.” I pause at the threshold, casting one last look at Maya’s sleeping form. “She’s pack now, whether you like it or not.”

“She really is not.” Cillian strides down the hallway, forcing me to jog to catch up. “And the sooner you accept that, the better.”

“Logan has done everything short of claiming her in front of the entire court.”

“Logan is playing politics.” His shoes click against the marble floor in a steady rhythm. “Once he secures his position as heir, she’ll be gone faster than you can say ‘mating contract.’”

The growl builds in my chest before I can stop it. “You don’t know that.”

“I know Logan.” Cillian stops at the elevator, jabbing the call button with more force than necessary. “And I know you’re getting attached to something that isn’t yours to keep, especially if you’re waiting for him to have a change of heart.”

My fists clench at my sides. The urge to slam him into the wall wars with years of pack loyalty. “Maybe you just don’t like her having influence over him. Logan has never voiced any of our suggestions in a council meeting.”

Cillian just shakes his head derisively. “Maybe you should focus more on your job and less on playing house.”

The elevator arrives with a soft ding, saving me fromhaving to respond. We ride down in tense silence, the air thick with unspoken accusations.

“Must be nice living life as a beta. Never having to manage your biological impulses. You have no idea what it’s like for Alphas and Omegas.”

“How true.” Glacial eyes rise to meet mine. “So maybe you should stop managing your impulses.”

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