Page 72 of Bonds of Hate

Fighting off any but the best-trained attackers might not be a problem for me, but I’d still have to explain what the fuck I was doing out here when the Guardians arrived to clean up the bodies.

Better to finish this quickly, if I can just be left alone long enough to do it.

My phone buzzes again in a different tone. Even though I don’t answer, his voice still plays over the speaker because this device won’t silence calls from the high and mighty Prince Logan.

“Cillian, we need to review the security protocols for tonight’s gala. Call me back. Now.”

I delete the message with more force than necessary. As if I haven’t already triple-checked every entrance, exit, and potential vulnerability in the grand ballroom. These Omegas have everyone acting like lovesick puppies, scrambling to accommodate their every whim.

Convincing Logan to leave Maya in the harem had been a stroke of genius on my part, especially given that Logan almost certainly believes it was all his own idea.

Out of sight and out of mind. At least, that had been the idea.

But I see now that distance isn’t nearly enough.

The memory of Logan’s face during breakfast surfaces — the way his eyes kept drifting to Maya, tracking her movements. How his body would tense and relax based on her proximity. He does his best to hide it, but I’ve spent most of my life navigating the nuances of his mood and body language.

At first, I’d assumed she was just a passing fancy. No different from the countless women that the prince has paraded around us.

But Maya Tantamount has never fit the mold of Logan’s usual conquests. During that first meeting a year ago, when she walked away from him…no other Omega would ever have dared. How she carries herself, the demeanor that is both calculated yet genuine. The sharp intelligence behind those careful responses.

Unique and dangerous.

Even Ares and Poe have been affected. Those two have never cared about any woman beyond a nightor two, but both are falling under her spell. Picking out gala dresses and force-feeding the girl like a prize heifer. It’s disgusting.

I’ve watched countless women come and go from Logan’s bed. A few nights are commonplace, the occasional week or two happens, but never for any longer than that. It always ends the same way. None of them mattered. None of them threatened the careful balance we’ve maintained.

But Maya...

Maya might ruin everything.

Her intentions don’t even matter. Considering the why and how of her reappearance is a waste of my time. The only consideration now is how best to manage her presence and ensure it is as temporary as possible.

Signing a mating contract, parading her before the court, even engaging in the disgusting sexual acts that Ares and Poe seem to prefer. All of that is well and good. But the moment the king insists Logan give her a mating bite, bond her to him permanently, all of this will fall apart.

I can be honest about it now, I underestimated her. I underestimated the effect she would have on the prince, on all of them.

I can’t make that mistake again.

My comm unit gives another distinctive alert. Logan again, this time demanding an immediate response with my current whereabouts and purpose for leaving the palace. Idiot. If he hasn’t already guessed what I’m doing, he should know better than to demand I disclose it on an open channel. I spend too much of my time cleaning up his messes for this level of micromanagement.

And I don’t need any distractions right now.

The black market is an amorphous thing in Melilla,but especially Capital City. King Leopold occasionally makes a show of clearing out the more notorious purveyors of illegal goods. The supply will run dry for a cycle or two before the next generation of crooked characters takes advantage of a fresh market opportunity.

But the man I’m looking for always stays one step ahead of the purges. He might go quiet for a bit, but always oozes back on the scene like the slime covering the walls of the decrepit causeways he frequents.

I find Bastin in the alleyway entrance of an Alpha bar. The beta, with his sleazy smile and ill-fitting clothes, immediately stands out. More likely than not, he’s here slinging illegal rut-enhancing drugs for the open-rank fight night advertised on the bar’s marquee sign.

Crooked teeth flash in the dark when he sees me approach. “Cillian, long time no see. Or is it? Thought I topped you up just last week.”

“Say my name out loud again and I’ll feed you your own tongue.”

The whites of his eyes are bright as he shifts on his feet. “Sorry, sorry. What can I do you for?”

I gesture for him to follow me further into the darkness of the alley. Turning on my heel, I don’t bother to wait and see if he complies. I know he will.

I don’t trust Bastin. He would sell his own mother for the right amount of credits. But that’s exactly why I use him and not one of the dozen other dealers. Icantrust Bastin to always put his payday first. My access to the royal coffers ensures his continued discretion.

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