Page 7 of Forbidden Bonds
Ignore him…
“…golden era of unprecedented gains…”
Ignore him…
“…and further expansion into the delta sector, where…”
Ignore him…
The finishing of Cohen’s speech shocks me from my rumination. As per usual, time is provided for the assembled alphas to mingle and converse. Cohen steps down from the dais to join them, and I follow at his side. All very civilized on the surface. But alphas don’t mix well in general, and the select crowd tolerates each other at best. Violent challenges and ruthlessness are the accepted norms for progression and promotion—it is their way. Higher ranks might not engage in physical challenges but turn instead to scheming. Culturally, the Uncorrupted are essentially thugs, and every man present in the room has committed a wealth of heinous crimes.
Is it like this in the Empire, I wonder, the constant vying and backstabbing?
God, just ignore him…
I have been lost in my churning thoughts again, not realizing that the two alphas Cohen was talking to have moved on. Feeling his eyes on me, I lift my head. What I see there rattles me. It’sbeen many years since I tried to deceive him, but dread coils in my stomach as I worry that something has happened to make him think I am.
Betraying the alpha isn’t an option. No matter the cost, even if it breaks me, even if I end up in the regeneration tank again. I can’t and I won’t.
“I believe you do need rutting through your next heat,” Cohen says, blue eyes narrowing upon me. “You have been acting out of character lately. And today, the moment we stepped into this room, something was different.”
A falling sensation washes over me. I can’t breathe normally. Is he on to me, or merely giving credence to Jenda’s recommendation?
She went over Cohen’s head by sending her report directly to the viral board. Cohen requested a delay from the board. It was granted, and they gave him the final say on when and if I am to be given to an alpha.
IGNORE HIM!
“Maybe it’s time,” he muses. “It is my choice, after all.” His lips narrow into a cruel smile that says he’s enjoying the way my anxiety climbs.
He knows my heat is due imminently. Is this him taking a calculated risk in bringing me here? Perhaps hoping the alpha pheromones clogging the room will trigger me and take the decision out of his hands.
“Are you keen to break me, general?” I ask, trying to shy away from his corrupt mind. “You place me in a room of men whose monstrous minds are open to me.”
“The virus will latch for me soon,” he says.
Bile rises in my throat. It’s not the first time he has made such overtones.
The reason Cohen hasn’t given me to an alpha yet—the real reason, not the fabricated lie he offers to his peers and superiors—is that he wants me for himself.
“I’d like to see you knotted,” he says at length, cheeks darkening in a way that triggers a dull thud at my throat. His depraved desires flood my mind. “I’ve been told omega cunts can take a surprising level of abuse and still need more.”
Wrongness settles over me; this is not a direction our conversation has taken before. Not openly. Denial and fresh dread go to war within me. He took a stronger viral dose a week ago. Did it finally latch? Or is this him giving up?
But no, he’s not an alpha, not now, perhaps never. There are no changes I can discern; he remains a non-dynamic individual who wishes he were more. One who is doomed to forever aspire to be that which he never will, and to grow ever more embittered.
Choose!His mind roars at me.
I jump at the vitriol in his mental tone.
His face, however, maintains a calm façade before his precious people. “Pick someone, Larissa,” he says softly. Eyes taking on a calculating gleam.
IGNORE HIM!!!
I shake my head, my thoughts becoming a wild jumble.
He means it,I realize. His thoughts rest on the anticipation of watching me being fucked. If he can never have me, he wants to see someone else destroy me.
Sweeping his arm over the bountiful offering of elite alphas, he smirks and grits out, “Pick someone, or I will.”
