Page 26 of Broken Ties
Soulmate.
A paltry word the non-Gifted use to describe their own pathetic attempts at finding meaning in someone else. It sends an icy wave down my spine as bile churns in my gut. The idea of existing only for someone else’s use is intolerable and somethingI spent more time in therapy dealing with than I did half the tortures my mother inflicted on me. Processing something that once happened but can never happen again was difficult but doable, thanks to one solid truth; my mother is dead—she cannot touch me again. It’s an entirely different horror to face the looming threat of a new sadistic master, one sanctioned not only by the cultural expectations of my community but also all the people I stupidly allowed to get close to me.
This Bond is a death sentence I am being forced into at every turn, yetAshleeis grasping after the experience so desperately that she's taken to using terminology outside of our community to convince herself of something.
She grins like she’s so smart, so devious, and motions at me to lift my arm. I stare at her for a moment, but then the image of the girl flashes into my mind. The only time I have managed to dig under her skin was unintentional but telling. The first day she walked into my lecture hall, I was approached by students trying to get their marks changed and a few had even attempted to flirt their way out of a failing grade.
It’s that alone that lifts my arm and allows Ashlee to duck under it. She takes this compliance as permission to touch me and loops her own arm around my waist, one of her fingers hooking into my belt loop as she shoves at my boundary. My bond, still refusing to speak with me, instead sends a vehement feeling pulsing through my chest that can’t be ignored.
Disgust.
I don't know how North manages to hate his bond with the depth he does all day, because I'm exhausted by the loathing I feel for the being I share my skin with right now. It’s impossible to hide my rage, and the maids dusting the halls obsessively all tuck their chins to their chests to avoid my furious gaze as we pass them, scattering like I’m a monster. North has spent years convincing his employees that they’re safe within themansion, despite rumors otherwise, and they’re all generously compensated for trusting his word. Another slight against me, thanks to the girl.
As I stalk down the hallway toward the dining room with Ashlee still tucked far too close to me, my mind checks out. Years of practice make it instinct to distract myself with research and old history books to escape from the sickly scent choking me, anything to stop from thinking about the warmth of her body pressed against me.
Soulmate. The word just keeps ringing in my ears like a death knell. The Gifted used to look down on the non-Gifted for their wanton approach at courtship and relationships. Before the Resistance wiped out a third of the Gifted in North America back in the riots of the seventies, no Bond would dare utter the word ‘soulmate’ without scorn and derision. To compare a partner chosen on a whim to the sacred and reverent experience of Bonding was viewed as disgusting, not just uncouth.
After that bloodshed though, the assurance of finding your Bond Group was lost and never regained. In the decades since, hundreds of thousands of Bonds have been left to wander existence without ever meeting the Central Bond destined toownthem.
I despise that girl for robbing me of such peace in my life.
Fingers gripping my wrist startle me out of my thoughts abruptly. Ignoring my warnings, Ashlee shoves her way past my boundaries, and my bond reacts the moment her skin touches mine and my eyes shift to black. It seems I’ve behaved too well of late, kept my temper bound firmly to my own detriment.
The community have forgotten the depth of violence I’m willing to bring them if they don’t stay the fuck away from me.
Meeting my gaze, she only falters for a second before hissing at me, “Do you want to piss your Bond off or not, Draven?”
No petty games are worth this.
I open my mouth but before I'm able to snarl my response to her, she shoves the door before us open and all but drags me into the dining room with her. My gaze collides with my brother’s so abruptly that it’s almost a tangible impact. His eyes flick down to my stumbling feet, his jaw clenching instantly at my assumed drunken behavior, and I can already see the gears turning in his mind as he shifts into damage control for his poor, broken little brother.
Fuck him.
Ashlee giggles and reminds me of her existence, but before I snap at the sound raking over my sanity, my gaze lands on the girl and I find her staring at Ashlee with murder in her eyes. My own bond ignites at her fury, consuming her rage gluttonously and using it as fuel for its obsession to burn brighter. As though she feels this detonation in my blood, her gaze swings to me, and when the clear blue hue of her irises hit the inky-navy of mine, the disgust writhing in her fuels me instead of my bond. It's like a hit, mainlined without any delay. I’m high on her hatred and am desperate for more.
“Oh, if it isn't my little poisonous Bond. Are you here to ruin dinner for us all? How about you do what you do best and run off and leave us all to our meal in peace."
Her jaw clenches as quickly as North’s had, but while my brother’s response was a resignation, an acceptance of my coping mechanisms despite his opinions on the matter, hers is a stubborn war cry as she digs her heels in. It’s a taunt, a goading of ego turned back onto me, and I want to break her open in all the worst ways.
North dismisses Ashlee entirely but sprints to his Bond’s rescue by attempting to distract me from my new fixation. "You're late. If you're not going to be able to make it to dinner, please tell me beforehand. I can reschedule."
I shrug, both in response and to get Ashlee’s arm off of my shoulders, and she uses the opportunity to clamber into the chair next to Gryph. She seems to triple in presence, taking up all of her space and half of mine while also pushing herself into Gryph’s chest as she leans forward to grab a plate. The irritation it causes me is little more than background noise as I watch the girl finish her meal. Her determination to clean it of every crumb is militant and deranged, the fire in her eyes burning hotter when she watches Ashlee paw at her pathetic Bond.
Startling me from my viewing pleasures, Gryph’s voice echoes in my mind,What the fuck have you done now?
I could ignore him, but there’s no fun in that and he owes me for leaving me to drink alone.You’re testing her with your arsenal, I have my own weapons of choice. Fair’s fair, Shore.
He wastes his abilities and it’s never irritated me quite like it is now. If I had the Gift of the Truth, I’d have that girl chained down and spilling all of her deepest, darkest secrets to me in a fucking heartbeat. I’d pick apart every inch of her inner workings until I knew her better than I knew myself. I’d take it all from her until I had all the evidence I needed to prove to North that she’s nothing but a lying, scheming, manipulative Central Bond, just like the rest of them.
Gryph shifts in his seat to get some distance from Ashlee’s hands, shooting her a warning look before he takes a deep breath and turns back to his plate. I've no doubt pissed him off, but he's choosing not to engage with me as he’d like to, and fuck him for that, too. The bottomless well of calm he has stowed away within himself sets my teeth on edge. I’ve never had a moment of calm in my life, and here he is with an endless supply. I want to break him as badly as I want to break the girl.
It’s not my fault you’ve chosen to be pathetic. Maybe the girl is right; maybe none of you are worthy of her.
Sarcasm drips from my tone but he still takes damage from the blow. It really is pathetic how easy they all are now. They all watch her obsessively as she eats, gazes full of longing that curdles like acid in my gut. No matter how well they hide it from her, I see it all. It’s clear I'm the only one with a functioning brain still encased in my skull, and it’s up to me to get rid of this Bond before she destroys us all.
NINE
ATLAS