Page 35 of Bonds of Hate

By the time I lay groaning on the floor, Logan had worked out the worst of his aggression.

He adjusted the cuffs of his shirt and flicked away a lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes, barely out of breath. “If she doesn’t show up because of what you did, you’re taking the hard fuck I have planned for her.”

Rape isn’t Logan’s preferred method of establishing dominance. For him to make the threat, I must have truly pissed him off.

“She will,” I bit out through the pain, hating that it was probably thetruth.

Logan’s growl brings me back to the present, making me stiffen back into guard position beside him despite my aching ribs. Maybe he didn’t work out all of his aggression last night.

If Maya really doesn’t show up, I might not survive whatever he decides to me. I will happily take another beating if it means protecting him.

Logan wants her, whether or not he wants to admit it to himself. Even without considering the mystery of her whereabouts for the past year or her inexplicable interest in bonding after her previous rejection, Maya is dangerous. That’s true of all Omegas. They make us too vulnerable. Totally defenseless themselves, they create a weakness in us that can be exploited.

Most Alphas are smart enough to lock themselves away with their Omega during a heat cycle. The fugue state inspired by a rut, the Alpha’s uncontrollable sexual response to his bonded Omega in heat, makes it impossible to focus on anything else. More than one royal Alpha has been assassinated while knot deep in a mewling Omega.

Personally, I see no point in all the hassle. Betas can be impregnated if you try hard enough and some of them have even figured out how to take a knot without damage. Most importantly, fucking them won’t get you killed.

Part of me sincerely doubts that all thirteen princes will survive the coming weeks, which I suspect might be the king’s intent. Let the strong cull the weak and crown whoever is left standing.

If that’s the case, then it has to be Logan who gets the crown.

Every time an Omega reaches the doors, a hush fallsover the crowd as they track her progress across the throne room to the prince who chose her. The Omegas might not realize it, but every movement they make is being catalogued, dissected for potential weaknesses that can be exploited.

My vision is still a little blurry from being burned by bourbon, but I can tell at a glance that the next Omega who walks through the door isn’t Maya.

Logan is outwardly calm, but tension runs through him.

Ares leans over Logan’s throne to whisper in his ear, but the man has no inside voice, so I hear every word. “Do you want me to have one of the new harem Omegas prepared, just in case?”

Logan doesn’t reply, but gives him a look black enough that it is answer enough.

One surreptitious glance at the wall reveals how late it’s getting. The palace summons that went out this morning had a time limit attached to it. The Omegas might technically have a choice about whether to present themselves, but none of the princes are going to wait for one experiencing cold feet.

My gaze moves to King Leopold, only to find him watching us. A sardonic smile flashes behind his white beard before he returns his attention to the giggling Beta held in his lap.

With a sudden sense of dread, I realize I hadn’t fully thought through the consequences of scaring Maya away. If she doesn’t show up now, Logan will be humiliated in front of his father and worse, the rest of the court. Her rejectionof him, for a second time now, will be taken as a sign of weakness.

Forcing his knot up my ass might be the least Logan will do to me.

I never should have told Maya about the tracker. She could be on her way here or a hundred miles out of the city on a one-way trip paid for with the money I gave her. No way for me to know. Now we’re stuck simply waiting to see if she answers the summons.

Next time, we’ll have to put a tracking device somewhere more permanent.

Fuck, will there even be a next time? I can’t decide if that would be a better or worse option. Logan might just kill me if she doesn’t show. But if I publicly take the blame in front of the court, then the show of my punishment might be enough to salvage his reputation.

But if she does come here, the entire court will see her brought to heel.

My first hint is the musicians. Their position on a raised platform at the center of the room gives them an unrestricted view of the palace doors. The music stutters to a stop, each instrument dropping out of the melody until the sound ceases altogether.

Silence reigns for only a moment before the whispers start, growing louder as murmured words pass from one courtier to another.

By the time the crowd parts and I see Maya, I’ve already figured out just how much I underestimated her.

For once, her purple hair isn’t the first thing that draws my attention.She wears a custom-fit dress that hugs every curve, somehow straddling the line betweenregal and raunchy. She practically shimmers, thousands of tiny crystals sewn into the fabric sparkling under the lights.

A dress like that must have cost a pretty penny. No need to guess where she got the money to pay for it.

Her violet hair is coiled on top of her head in an elaborate configuration, with delicate tendrils left out to twist down her back and frame her face.

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