Page 71 of Bonds of Hate

The silk of Queen Midale’s dress rustles between us as he pulls back just far enough to study my face. His eyes are fever bright, pupils blown wide and pitch black.

He surprises me by kissing me again. The swipe of his tongue across my stained lips quick enough that I don’t have a chance to respond.

“She would always kiss me after. It tasted like sweet cream that had just turned. Curdled and sour. I haven’t been able to stomach milk for years.” The sharp edge of his teeth scrape against the too sensitive skin of my lips, just this side of biting. “But you, you taste like fucking heaven.”

I lick my lips, the move instinctive. He growls in response. Heat rises between us as he surveys me, lingering on the gown’s detailing. His nostrils flare with each inhale, and I wonder if he can smell the slick flooding my panties.

Poe shifts closer, expression warmer than I’ve ever seen it. “This gown fits like it was made for you, doesn’t even need to be altered.” His hand grazes the cinching at my waist, a dreamy quality in his voice. “You’re so small, just like she was.”

For a frantic moment, I wonder if he’ll insist on having more from me. I know I’ll eventually have to fuck them all, but I don’t want my first time to be like this. Not with the memory of another Omega twisting it into something tainted. I have to find some way to break the spell we’ve cast on each other.

The question bubbles to the surface of my brain, fizzing like an itch I just have to scratch. It’s the one I’ve wanted to ask since he first shared his shameful secret.

“Did you love her?”

Poe’s hands drop from me faster than if I’d burned him. His eyes are flat, like a storm rolling in on a dark horizon. He looks a decade older in the space of a heartbeat.

I almost step back to close the distance he puts between us. My next breath is more of a swallow, tasting the lingering salty musky of him on my tongue.

What the hell was I thinking? I should have known this was the question that would push him too far.

Too many emotions swirl together in his eyes. Want, pain, rage, all twisting together like a writhing nest of venomous snakes.

He fights for control, expression hardening into the typical Alpha mask. The transition is quick. Easy. The innate reaction to protect himself so ingrained that it might as well be second nature.

No matter how much I might want there to be something more underneath that dangerous facade, I have to remind myself of the truth.

That innocent little boy he used to be died a long time ago.

“If I did, it was only as much as I hated her,” he finally bites out. “You might want to remember that before inviting any more comparisons.”

He stalks out of the room, slamming the door hard enough behind me I jump in reaction.

I force myself to ignore the surge of guilt threatening to rise up in me. Regardless of his help here, Poe isn’t my friend, I don’t have the luxury of softer feelings.

A queen might be the most powerful piece on the chessboard, but she also has the biggest target on her back.

Chapter Fifteen

CILLIAN

My comm unit buzzes for the third time in the last five minutes — Ares’s most recent attempt to reach me. I don’t know how I ended up needing to account for every fucking minute of my time, but it has never been this difficult to slip away from them before.

I silence the call without looking at the screen and shove the comm unit deeper into my pocket. The device vibrates once more with a voicemail notification.

Fucking ridiculous.

I’d left the apartment just before Logan and I came to blows over that damn Omega. We never fight, at least not like this. She disrupts our equilibrium so completely that I have to assume she does it on purpose.

So no matter what Logan’s opinion might be, this little errand can’t wait.

The causeways are deserted at this time of the evening. Honest types have already secured themselves safely in their homes, while the seedier element emerges to take over the night. Holovid announcements might claim thatCapital City has never been safer, but that’s only because this time last year the blood of soldiers ran like a river through the streets.People might pretend that they don’t remember the most recent uprising, but plenty of rebels evaded arrest and are now biding their time, waiting for another chance.

Since King Leopold, the great liberator of Melilla, claims that the cities have been made safe, then that becomes the only acceptable truth.

But the pockets of civil unrest are bigger and more frequent every day. Alphas grown frustrated by their lack of riches or access to easy Omega pussy sometimes take to roaming the streets looking to even the score. Betas with little to lose will pickpocket or vandalize if they think they can get away with it.

I can’t afford to become distracted out here. A single guard, decked in royal finery, makes a pretty target for thieves. I’ve swapped my uniform for more casual garb, but the mark of privilege doesn’t wash off. Any denizen of the lower classes who takes one look at me will know immediately that I don’t belong.

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