Page 32 of Deadly Ties

Kelly is alone in the kitchen when I walk out in a pair of yoga pants and a tee. He has a chopping board and a bowl on the counter and is in the middle of making what looks like an egg-white omelet. I pull a face and grab the tin ofsheqerpareoff the shelf. The little syrup-soaked butter cookies should take the healthy edge off. “Worked up an appetite?” he asks with a sly look in my direction.

“That was not my fault,” I tell him as I snap a cookie in half and feed us both. “I just went and sat on his knee like a good little omega.”

He snorts, then starts pouring his white, gooey mixture into a pan already sizzling with mushrooms and peppers. “I’m starting to wonder if calling you Angel is ironic.”

I shrug and pull myself up onto the clean end of the counter. The cabin is cozy, but a couple of bar stools would probably push it into cluttered territory. “And is this heat hunger, or I just got rescued from a basement hunger?”

“Not my heat,” he grins. “That really seems to be over. And all it took was shifting five times and then getting bitten by my mate.”

I smile back, ignoring the slight pinch in my stomach. “Can I see it?”

He knows exactly what I mean, and brushes his long hair back from his neck. Rory’s mark is red but not inflamed, the impression of his teeth clear, but not deep. “It’s not a big bite,” he tells me, “but that was deliberate. Rory said he wants to do it again when I forgive him.”

I look around the living area. “He didn’t stick around for aftercare?”

“I’m good. I got what I wanted, even if it’s not the full package just yet.” He gives me another sly look as he flips the omelet. “He headed out to run his frustration off, while I tucked mine away for later.”

I can’t help looking down at the sweatpants hanging from his hips. They have to be the one’s Rory was wearing, so I assume he means Rory is running in his wolf form. And while Kelly might have put his frustration away, I can tell it isn’t going down any time soon. “I could… help you out with that, if you want.” Rory almost drops the pan, the omelet landing in a wet splat on the floor. “Oops,” I tell him, and nudge the cookies his way. “These are better for you, anyway. Do you really want to eat egg whites after a year in that basement?”

Kelly frowns, clearly distracted. “I didn’t see real food once. Everything they fed us was cheap and greasy. It was disgusting.”

Well, I guess you really aren’t what you eat, because Kelly looks like prime rib in those sweatpants.

“Okay, but these are homemade by my mate’s loving hands.” I wait until he’s nibbling on another cookie before I add, “And I mean it about lending a hand, too. I’m partially responsible for your frustration, after all.”

His moan isn’t just in appreciation of the cookie’s buttery goodness. “Angel… That’snotwhat I was angling for.”

“I know. But I’m guessing you and Arben set that scene up before we arrived. Which means I just had one of the best orgasms of my life, then got fucked into the pillow because Arben was so worked up. I think I owe you.”

“A couple of orgasms – even as epic as it sounded from the next room – does not equal risking your life to save mine.”

I sigh and climb off the counter to get more eggs out of the fridge. While he starts the omelet-making process over again, I lean on my elbows and ask, “Can you feel him?” And then I ask the question I don’t really want an answer to. “Do you think Link knows?”

Kelly’s lips thin for a moment as he whisks the eggs. “Yes, I can feel Rory. And Link is still in there, too, so I’d say he knows. But it’s not a bondlink if you’re wondering. Those things are rare.” He looks back at the bedroom door, his gaze softening and his words tinged with wonder. “You two really have something special, you know?”

“We fit,” I tell him again, but I feel tingly at the confirmation of what I already know. I’m lucky as hell to have my devilish mate in my life. “Hey, how did you recognize it, by the way? You guessed without any clues, and up to a week ago, I thought bondlinks were just a myth.”

He turns away, and I’m not sure it’s just to fiddle with the stovetop. “It’s not common knowledge, but my parents had it. They didn’t use it like you do, though. My dad made my mum spy on people, when he wasn’t commanding her for his twisted entertainment.”

Oh, crap. “You don’t have to talk about it…”

“No, it’s okay. The bastard is dead now, and I’m not exactly close to my mum. But I’ll never forget the way he’d command her, like she was a dog on an invisible leash. I think it was why I flipped out so bad when I presented as an omega. The thought that one day an alpha couldownme like that…”

I reach over and rub his shoulder, smiling a little as he leans into the touch. “I get it, Kelly. My parents didn’t have it – mainly because Bisha wasn’t my dad – but he controlled her in other ways. It was hard watching it as a kid, but scary as well, thinking that might be me one day.”

He glances back at the bedroom door. “I think that ship has sailed.”

I grin. Yep. The only commanding I have to worry about now comes in the form of three thick digits and a lot of public orgasms. “What about your mum? Is she out there looking for you?”

“I doubt it. She signed over half my inheritance to Bisha before he sold me off. She’s probably holding back the other half so he doesn’t kill me, but I think that’s the most help I can expect from her.” Shaking his head, he fills the pan with fresh vegetables, and from the tension in his shoulders, I know he’s hurting. But when he glances back at me, he forces a chuckle. “I can tell you’ve got another question brewing away in there. Spit it out, Angel.”

I pull a face. What I really want to know is how did a bond-shy omega end up with someone like Lincoln Hila, but I ask instead, “What was it like in Bisha’s Tower?”

From his guarded expression, that’s an even worse line of questioning, but before I can take it back, he says, “The guys said you didn’t know much about it.”

“I only went there a couple of times when I was younger for pack stuff. But I didn’t see a lot of Bisha when I was growing up.”

He grunts. “Well, the Tower was boring. I was separated from the guys and not given much to do. No phones or games or anything electronic. Just some exercise equipment, a few books, and a journal the guards liked to read, so that never came off the shelf.”

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