Page 60 of Bonds of Hate

I breathe a sigh of relief when Cillian launches a discussion into the day’s agenda items. Without the weight of their undivided attention, I can truly breathe for the first time since entering the apartments.

I scrape my spoon across the parfait bowl, feigning the act of eating as a cover for studying each of them in turn.

Ares lounges beside me, shoulder close enough that I feel the body heat radiating off his skin, but carefully not making actual contact. His legs spread wide, making no secret of the dark stain of slick I left on the fabric of his pants after sitting in his lap.

I force myself to look away.

With a mixture of relief and annoyance, I realize Poe is pointedly ignoring me, angling himself away to give Cillian’s droning his apparent undivided attention.

Logan keeps his gaze fixed on his tablet, that perpetual frown present on his face. But the death grip he has on the device in his hands gives him away. A few more minutes and the thing is going to shatter into pieces.

I’m affecting them.

The knowledge settles over me with a combination of triumph and unease. Anticipation is a sick feeling at the pit of my stomach and the clenching spasm between my thighs. Eventually, they’re going to make good on this brewing tension. I still haven’t figured out how I’ll handle it when the moment finally comes.

With Alphas, physical arousal is inevitable. Itmeans nothing. They’ve already proven it’s too easy for them to compel my body to respond. But I don’t know how I’ll handle everything else they expect of me. Not with the memory of a monster’s hands haunting my dreams.

Not when my treacherous heart is still stupid enough to believe it deserves something more.

Cillian appears to be the only one of them unbothered by my presence. His gaze has not so much as drifted in my direction since I sat down at the table.

His lack of interest gives me the freedom to study his face without the risk of attracting unwanted attention.

The line of his jaw is sharper than I expect, the muscle tight with tension. His pale coloring makes him look almost unearthly, a sculpture cut from marble more than a flesh and blood human. He lacks the indistinct features typical of a beta, but he also doesn’t possess an Alpha’s stature and hyper-emphasized musculature, despite the boldness of his features.

I’ve seen no one quite like him before, and I can’t decide if I’m more attracted or repelled.

I stare at him long enough that it’s inevitable our gazes will meet.An unrecognizable emotion flashes in his eyes, quick and bright as a lightning strike. Both beautiful and terrifying.

He looks away with a humorless smile. “The last agenda item concerns the Omega presentation gala tonight.”

My heart freezes in my chest.

A gala…tonight?

Of course, I hadn’t been told about any gala.

The parfait I’d enjoyed so much now churns in my stomach. Dancing, small talk, navigating social landmineswhile the elite of society judge my every move. King Leopold maintains an unruly court full of rowdy Alphas and scheming, social-climbing betas. All of them would be alert to any sign of weakness, more than ready to exploit it.

My eyes narrow at the side of Cillian’s head, but he continues to studiously ignore me. The preparations for a formal gala dinner with the entire court had to have been made days in advance, so the lack of notice to me must be intentional.

Logan sounds as bored as he looks. “What about it?”

Cillian continues. “The king has ordered an official presentation of all the new Omegas before the court with a formal dinner to follow. All our presences are required, obviously.”

Poe groans. “I hate court dinners.”

“Not me,” Ares argues. “Nine times out of ten, a fight breaks out before the dessert course.”

“That’s because you do your best to start one before they even bring out the amuse-fucking-bouche.”

“Fighting is the best palate cleanser there is.”

“Shut up, both of you,” Logan snaps, gesturing for the beta to continue.

Cillian’s gaze flicks to me again, but his tone remains clinically detached as he addresses the prince directly. “A stylist will arrive at three for the Omega’s hair and makeup. The harem closet has been thoroughly mined of anything appropriate, so I assume you’ll want the Omega to wear the dress she arrived in.”

“Fine—” Logan begins.

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