Page 117 of Bonds of Hate

“I still have questions,” he says, voice deceptively gentle. “And I’m afraid I really need answers.”

“I already told you everything important.” The lie tastes bitter on my tongue.

His fingers play at the edge of my bandage. “I don’t enjoy causing pain, Maya. Especially not to pack.”

“I’m not pack,” I remind him, echoing his own words back at him.

“No, but you’re something.” He shifts to look down atme, studying my face. “And you’ve been keeping secrets this entire time. Which is exactly why I need to know what happened tonight. Was the man who grabbed you someone you know?”

I press my lips together, hoping to hide a slight tremble. “No.”

“So you weren’t going with him willingly?”

“Of course not!” I don’t have to pretend at indignant anger. “I was unconscious, if you remember.”

Humor briefly twists his lips. “True enough. But that doesn’t explain why someone would try to make off with you, specifically.”

It’s so tempting to tell him the truth, but I just can’t.

Poe is absolutely loyal to Logan. Anything I tell him will be immediately shared within the pack. I have no reason to trust that they won’t just turn me over to the High Inquisitor and be done with it. Logan can always find another Omega to pretend he plans to mate.

And that’s assuming he doesn’t have a true mate hidden somewhere in the palace.

If Logan has no intention of keeping me, why would he take the risk of protecting me?

I swallow past a painful lump in my throat. “I don’t know.”

“I see.” Poe’s thumb brushes across the pulse point just above my collarbone, and I suppress a shiver in response. “Maybe he saw an unbonded Omega wandering by herself and took advantage of the chaos.”

“Maybe,” I repeat.

“Or maybe there’s something you aren’t telling me.” Hisarms tighten hard enough to force the breath from my lungs, leaving me gasping. “But how can I be sure?”

I babble something incoherent, the burn of tears in my eyes. So recently quelled, the panic threatens to rise up again.

Gently shushing me, Poe makes a point of picking up the scalpel from the floor and tossing it across the room, far out of reach. I hear it clatter against the wooden floor, but can’t see where it landed.

“Tying you up is too close to torture, I think. Breaking your mind into pieces wouldn’t be helpful.” He presses a chaste kiss to my temple. “I guess I’ll have to come up with another way to get you talking.”

I let out a surprised shriek when he abruptly flips us on the bed. My back hits the mattress hard enough to almost bounce me off the mattress, but his body is almost immediately there and pressing me down with the sheer weight of him.

His hands grasp the neck of my ruined dress and yanks it down. With all the damage already done by the events of last night, the fabric tears as easily as tissue paper. He keeps his body propped up on his elbows, staring down at my bared flesh with an expression that has gone openly feral.

When he growls, the sound is all sensuous heat. “You only get to come if you tell me what I want to hear.”

My jaw drops, but the question on my lips turns into a low groan as his mouth closes over my now bared nipple. Electric heat, bordering on painful, bows my spine, which forces more of my oversensitive flesh against his tongue.

“Who was he?” he asks, pulling back slightly.

“I don’t know.” I let out an involuntary gasp when he nips me hard enough to ache. “I don’t know, Poe!”

He presses a kiss against my nipple, soothing the pain of his bite. “What did he look like?”

“I could barely see anything.”

His thumb traces the curve of my other breast before pinching my nipple between his fingers. The slight pain sends a shock of surprised pleasure straight between my legs. “Tell me what you remember.”

I give a vague description of a man with dark hair and eyes with an average build. One that fit any of a hundred people who could have been in the palace.

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