Page 57 of Bonds of Hate

A disembodied voice calmly describing my value as a lab specimen with every excruciating slice of the blade.

After rinsing my mouth, I return to the bed and curl deeper into the blankets. Without a window, it’s impossible to know the relative time of day, but I suspect it’s still very early.

Though Logan definitely meant it as an insult, I’m grateful for the solitude of my tiny room in the harem. It’s a blessing not to have anyone witness my trembling limbs or the cold sweat already seeping into my bedsheets. No uncomfortable questions about why I woke up screaming in the middle of the night. I might consider thanking him if I didn’t think he’d change my living situation out of sheer spite.

The lowlights abruptly brighten, bathing the room in a soft amber glow. Enough to be noticeable without making my light-sensitive eyes ache. This must be my wake-up call.

Today is the day it really begins.

The thought of facing three antagonistic Alphas and a somehow even less friendly beta again has my stomach in knots. I barely made it through my interview without my knees collapsing underneath me, and I felt enough desperation then that it could mask as bravado.

I’d somehow convinced myself that my interview would be the hardest part. But the look on Logan’s face when he commanded me out of the throne room still lingers in mymind. His Alphas stood behind him, expressions coldly smug, with no ability or interest in gainsaying him.

A concerted effort to humiliate me.

I wish I could tell them the truth. Maybe they would actually feel that supposedly natural Alpha urge to protect an Omega in need.

No, absolutely not. Logan has proven that he will never be the Alpha I dreamed about as a little girl. That Alpha is a fantasy that the Enclave concocted to trick us into complacency. The rest of his pack is no better.

Dreams are great until you wake up to a nightmare.

A bell chimes gently through the room, marking the half-hour. They’ll be expecting me in the prince’s apartments soon.

For the thousandth time, I remind myself that nothing the prince or his pack can do to me is worse than the alternative. I’ll do anything to maintain a place here. The protection of the palace walls, grounds full of patrolling guards armed with automatic weapons, is the only thing that matters to me.

I just have to remember that once I’m face-to-face with them again.

The thought of facing the harem betas over breakfast makes my stomach turn even more than the thought of eating anything. I force myself to sit up, pushing the memories and fears away for now. My wrist might ache when I support my weight with that arm, but the reminder doesn’t need to cause a descent into my darkest thoughts.

The monster could very well be dead. And even if he isn’t, he can’t touch me here.

A covered serving tray on the desk catches my eye.Lifting the dome cover, I find a gorgeous platter of fresh fruit, sliced meat and warm breakfast breads.

A surge of gratitude towards Perkins bubbles up inside me. She must have sent a tray to my room while I slept to save me the embarrassment of parading myself through the harem.

Despite my complete lack of hunger, I’m compelled by the scent of freshly brewed coffee. There is a perfectly made cappuccino with steam still hovering above the rim, an intricate design of a blooming flower in the milky foam on top. I admire the design for a few seconds before ruining it by indulging in a large sip.

I’m practically moaning as the complex flavor of Arabica beans and steamed milk hits my tongue. This might be the most delicious thing I’ve tasted in a year. In my defense, it’s been about that long since I had anything more than the dishwater sold from public dispensers. That stuff isn’t so much coffee as it is a crime against humanity.

The caffeine gives me just enough energy to face getting readying myself for them, though I skip eating any actual food.

The shower’s hot water helps ease some of the lingering tension from my nightmare, though I’m careful not to let my mind wander. A collection of expensive makeup and skincare items covers the bathroom counter, so I take extra care with my appearance because that’s clearly what they expect of me.

A light application of concealer helps disguise the dark circles under my eyes. I debate what to do with my hair before deciding to leave it loose around my shoulders.Logan’s fixation on the color is impossible to ignore and I see no reason not to take advantage of it.

The final touch is a spritz of scent neutralizer, which I’m surprised to find among the other cosmetics. The only thing missing is the heat suppressant I’d been taking daily before running out only days ago. Logan obviously doesn’t want biology interfering with our interactions. My Omega pheromones won’t be entirely masked, but they will be significantly more muted with the scent neutralizer.

But scent neutralizer doesn’t do anything to prevent a heat cycle.

I need to remind Cillian about the agreement to provide them.

A last glance in the mirror reflects someone who looks put-together and calm. Someone who belongs in a royal palace. Someone who definitely didn’t wake up screaming from memories of torture.

The illusion is almost perfect.

Another chime sounds through the room, clearly a warning of the time. I take a deep breath, square my shoulders and lift my chin.

Time to face whatever games Logan and his pack want to play.

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