Page 65 of Bonds of Hate

Chapter Fourteen

MAYA

Ifollow Poe through the winding corridors of the palace, struggling to keep up with his long-legged stride. He doesn’t slow his speed when I fall behind, but glances back before passing through doorways or turning corners to ensure I’m still behind him.

More considerate than I thought him capable of being.

I haven’t forgotten what he did to me, not by a long shot. Every time I hear the mocking drawl of his voice, I remember how it felt to have rough fingers pushed inside me, blunt fingernails scraping at my insides.

I really want to hate him. At least part of me absolutely does.

But I also don’t have any allies here. Logan and Cillian have already established that I mean less to either of them than the dirt at the bottom of their polished shoes, despite the former’s inexplicable decision to choose me for this farce. Ares is honest about his desire to bend me over the nearest hard surface, but that doesn’t mean I can trust him for anything more than a forced orgasm.

Inexplicably, Poe is the first and only one of them to make a legitimate offer of help.

It’s enough to make me want to take a quick glance outside to make sure the seasonal afternoon rain isn’t falling up instead of down.

Because the world must be standing on its fucking head.

I’m also not an idiot. I know Poe is hiding something crucial about what is going on with their pack, some difficulty that somehow makes the royal court even more dangerous than it would be normally.

We had slipped out of the apartment without notice or explanation. Poe didn’t seem keen on letting the others know where we were going. They’d been too deep into a shouting match to notice when we tiptoed along the far wall and out the main door, Poe silently indicating where to step so I could avoid squeaking floorboards.

It made me feel uncomfortably complicit with him. Like we shared something between us that the others couldn’t touch.

Not a good thing. If Logan discovers that Poe is making hidden plans with me, even over something as innocuous as a dress, he will take it very personally. I’ll be out on my ass before I can think of even a lame excuse.

When I follow him up an ornate stairwell lined with House Corellian portraits that my curiosity finally gets the better of me.

“Is this place you’re taking me to some kind of secret?” I ask.

Poe chuckles, the sound more than a little unsettling coming from him. “Not exactly. But let’s keep this betweenus until after the gala. You want to make the most dramatic impression possible, right?”

I nod slowly, not bothering to hide my suspicion. Making a grand entrance at the gala will help secure Logan’s position as heir to the throne. Becoming the mate of a future king can only benefit me. I’ll take whatever advantage we can get.

Doesn’t mean I trust Poe any more than a hissing cobra.

“I also want to know where we’re rushing off to. All these stairs are killing me.”

“I’d offer to carry you, but I’m sure your answer would be a violent one.”

I grumble a response. Something along the lines that shoving him violently down the very stairs we’re climbing right now would be more than a little satisfying.

Poe actually has the nerve to laugh, the suddenness of the sound seeming to surprise even him. “Feral thing.”

“I assume if you’re just looking for a good place to hide my body after killing me, then you probably wouldn’t have bothered to walk this far.”

He holds a hand to his chest in mock offense. “I’ll admit I’ve threatened to do a lot of things to you, torture mostly, but murder has never been one of them.”

I think back to that night at the rooming house and feel a burst of annoyance when I realize he is correct. “Nice to know you have some lines you won’t cross.”

“Don’t count on that.” He glances back at me, his dark eyes unreadable. “We’re stuck on the same team now. Just because I don’t want to see you fail, it doesn’t mean I like you.”

His words hang in the air between us, thick with warning. This is a temporary ceasefire, a fragile truce that will last only as long as we both see the benefit of it.

A little banter doesn’t change the fact that he will hurt me all over again if he thinks it’s necessary.

As we continue through the labyrinthine hallways, my mind is a morass of conflicting possibilities. Poe remains an enigma. Not quite an ally, but no longer an entirely antagonistic force, at least for the moment.

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