Page 10 of Broken Ties

Draven University is impossible to get into last minute. The wait lists are insane, and even if you’re from a Top Tier family, the admissions process is rigorous to say the least. Getting in without using my Bond Group connections is definitely inmy top five greatest achievements. I’ve never been especially academic, much to my parents’ dismay, but from the moment I found out I was in the Draven Bond Group, I’ve worked my ass off to get the grades I need to not only get in but to stay somewhere in the mid-range of students.

I didn’t want anyone to say I used North and Nox’s influence as a ticket to an easy life, and the business classes I’m planning on taking next semester will be invaluable when I someday take over my dad’s position in my family construction business. I’ve since learned that people will talk shit, no matter what, but the important part is thatIknow that I worked hard and earned my place.

I didn’t want to disappoint my Bond, but somehow I’ve already failed at that.

The early morning air is frigid on my bare arms and it helps to distract me from the self-loathing spiral my thoughts were stuck on. I even find myself calm enough to wait patiently at the parking lot entrance when the typically terrible early morning traffic has me waiting for fifteen minutes just to park up. My good mood lasts as long as it takes me to make it into the dorms, and the whispers start up around me.

It finally dawns on me that Draven is officially no longer my escape from the terrible situation waiting for me back at my parents’ house… it’s a new hellscape for me to endure.

I block as much of it out as I can, head high and shoulders back. I pretend that this is just another round of campaigning against the Dravens, that Nox has lost his temper at some worthless councilman again and set his nightmares on the asshole, and the only way I can help is to put up a wall between the Bond Group and the rest of the community.

I tell myself this is temporary, and I’ll figure out a way to prove myself to my Bond. That whatever I did wrong, I’ll find a way to fix it. That all of that will be enough to convince her toalso work to gain our trust back, that this is all fixable and maybe she’ll even decide to stay without North forcing her hand.

Basically, I lie to myself.

I do it until I can breathe without feeling like I’m going to puke. Then, I do it until the calm plastered over every inch of my being doesn’t feel like a mask, until the tension in my shoulders melts away, and my hand doesn’t hesitate when I lift it to rap my knuckles against her dorm room door, despite the dozens of pointed stares at the spectacle sure to break out when my Bond opens the door.

All that work is wasted the second I get an eyeful of her.

The smirk on her face falters the moment she sees me, but I’m too busy trying to remember how words work to think much about it. She’s not wearing makeup or anything flashy, but my heart clenches in my chest regardless. Fuck, she’s even more beautiful than I remember. How is that possible? Every time I manage to get close to her, I try to memorize every inch of her perfection, only to get the wind knocked out of me the moment I’m standing in front of her again.

I stare at her like she’s every inch my fantasies come to life, and she stares back at me like I’m some hideous freak dragged out of her worst nightmares. Fuck, I can practically taste her desperation to get away from me in the air, and my hackles rise.

Dragging my eyes back over her, I channel Nox’s shittiest attitude, letting years of watching him tear people to shreds get me through this. Even though my chest aches at the thought of speaking to my own goddamned Bond in any way that isn’t respectful, I’m also not going to just let her stand there and tear me to fucking shreds without a fight.

"Better than the last time I saw you, I guess. How was your first night in the dorms?"

She shrugs, her eyes still cold as ice, though they narrow a little at me. "It was fine. I've slept on the street before, it's much better than that."

My bond instantly slams against my ribcage, the animal trapped within me raging at the idea of her out there, alone and scared.

She chose that.

She chose that overenduringme.

Fuck, maybe I can’t do this.

I can’t say another word, jerking my head at her instead, and when I turn on my heel to stalk out, the hallway instantly becomes a writhing hive of busy and lively and we-weren’t-eavesdropping-we-swear.

My bond reaches toward hers, wriggling against my hold when I yank it away, but it’s protesting as though in response to something happening with her own bond. It can’t be though, I can’t even feel her bond, or her Gift. I can’t feel anything about her, nothing but rejection.

I might as well be walking with a non-Gifted girl.

It makes me curious though, and maybe a little spiteful, so instead of slinking my way out, I test exactly how resolute her rejection truly is. The girls all play along too, half of them friends from childhood who dropped me the moment my blood tests came back, in fear of the Dravens, but there’s no denying that there’s something about Oli that knocks them off center. They instantly want to crush her in a way that has me raging, and I’ll be dealing with them all one way or another, but right now I want to push her a little.

She doesn’t even fucking notice.

No matter how hard I push it, no matter how many girls giggle and flirt and push their luck with me, she doesn’t miss a beat.

The moment the door shuts behind us both, I can’t contain myself any longer, turning on her with a snarl that warns exactly how close to losing control of my Shift I really am. "Do you even fucking care? Do you care about anyone else but yourself?"

Any of the girls back in that dorm would’ve run screaming from my anger. Fuck, half of them would’ve burst into tears hysterical enough to get help running our way, but my Bond just stares me down like I’m nothing.

Rolling her shoulders back, she looks around the street so she doesn’t have to look at me. "If you have something you need to get off your chest, then you may as well do it now."

I hook a hand around her arm, forcing her gaze to snap to mine as I shove the slip of paper with the phone number at her, but she only looks pissed that I’m touching her and not that another girl wants me. "If a guy shoved his phone number into your pocket around me, I'd rip his fucking throat out. Yet you're standing there, unbothered and ready for fucking class?"

She gives me nothing, still no reaction, not even a flicker from her bond, to the point I’m not even certain she has one… except that my own is fucking dying to get to her.