Page 44 of Broken Ties
North’s anger at our Bond stems from the pain and fear her running away caused us all.
Nox loathes her for daring to breathe in the first place.
Gryph shifts on his feet again, a silent cue for North to get this meeting of sorts back on track. He’s not one to fidget without reason, so what he’s doing is obvious as North’s gaze finally shifts away from Nox and over to us both. He glances at the bag of football gear at my feet, his jaw clenching for a moment, before he nods at Gryph again.
“Black can Transport you both back to the campus.”
My eyebrows raise as Gryph pushes away from the wall. “Oli is going to the game with Benson. We’ve tripled the security, but I told North I’d rather we traveled in together, less target points to worry about covering.”
And that’s how I find out that Gryph has been given the all-clear by the Healers.
Instead of the immense pressure we’re all under easing off some thanks to the good news, it only seems to get worse as North goes on to read out report after report to us of all the intel he’s collected. The Resistance have changed their tactics completely, but they haven’t slowed down at all. Nox was right, no matter how reckless and stupid his actions were.
They’re huntingsomething.
Or someone.
Finally, after way too many casualties, North lets out a long breath, looking resigned to the magnitude of danger we’re in.“I’ll get this mess with the council dealt with. Keep your eyes peeled and call me the second something feels off.”
Stooping to grab my bag, Gryph nods at me without moving. “Black is just finishing up his last assignment for North, he should be here soon. I’ll meet you both out front.”
The sharp look he sends to North promises I want no part in sticking around, so I just nod and walk back out, pulling my phone out to check messages while I wait. It’s a terrible idea, I already know it, but I can’t help looking directly into the fiery pits of hell that my social life has plummeted to.
There are a heap of rumors about my Bond and a ton of speculation about why I wasn’t in any of my classes today, but I’m expecting that. Finding photos of North’s council lunch is a surprise and getting them from my cousin is even weirder. He doesn’t go to Draven, his family lives hours away, and none of them have connections to the council—aside from me, of course.
Someone from my school sent me these, I thought you’d want to see them. That’s North Draven, right? I need to speak to you, Gabe. It’s urgent. Are you going to be at the game tonight?
Thepopsound of Kieran appearing next to me tears me away from the text, startling me so badly that I almost drop my phone. He doesn’t notice, the frustration on his face distracting me entirely from Toby’s message.
Glancing around, he groans at the closed door to North’s office and rubs a hand over his face as he mutters at me, “Don’t tell me Shore’s still in there with him? There goes any chances of having a decent night. Finding that Bond of yours was supposed to make things easier around here, but it’s only really made shit worse.”
I groan back at him, shoving my phone into my pocket again. “Don’t remind me.”
He side-eyes me for a second as if he’s gauging how much he should say here, but whatever is on my face has him shrugginginstead. “Can’t say it won’t keep happening, especially not with Sharpe’s latest campaign. Did Draven let you in on thatdelightfulshitshow?”
A shiver runs down my spine at all the interest North is garnering right now. Worse still, I can’t think about what actually went on at that meeting too much, not without every predator that sleeps underneath my skin waking up and demanding to be let out to hunt. They all crave Sharpe’s bones snapping in our jaws, his blood covering our fur, and his screams of pain as we tear him limb from limb.
Kieran looks a little sheepish at how quickly he’s managed to send my control spiralling, and he winces when I finally grind an answer out from between my clenched teeth. “He’s a sick fuck—that’s all I can say about that crap. Who the hell would ever want aforcedBond? I can’t think of anything worse, which is saying something considering the nightmare I’m already living in!”
I turn away from him, my cheeks heating with shame at the admission, but Gryphon finally stomps out of North’s office and saves me from having to figure out how to brush my outburst off entirely. As we Transport out, the last thing I see is Nox Draven still sitting in the armchair before North’s desk and staring down at his hands with a grim face as he flexes his fingers, lost in whatever bleak thoughts plague the Death Dealer.
The night only goes from bad to worse.
My Bond being here tonight messes with my head so badly that the coach takes me off of the starting lineup before we even get through stretches. There’s no arguing it, I know exactly why he’s making the call, but the frustration I feel over it has my bond reacting so viciously that the rest of the team start side-eyeing me as if I’m a bomb about to go off.
It only sends me further off of the deep end.
When I crack my helmet in half without meaning to, I’m given marching orders to the locker rooms to ‘get my headtogether’ before the game. The careful tone Coach uses makes my skin crawl with shame, my chin tucking into my chest so I don’t have to make eye contact with anyone. There isn’t a Gifted here who isn’t well aware that there’s no fixing this.
I’m screwed now thanks to my Bond’s rejection.
In the grand scheme of things, having a bad game and being benched isn’t that big of a deal, but it’s the sidelong looks of confusion and pity I get from the rest of the team as I walk off that has my jaw clenching so violently that I’m sure my teeth are going to snap under the pressure. None of the coaching staff working in our rooms knows what to do with me, being rejected by your Central Bond isn't exactly common, so instead they all just give me a wide berth as they scurry around to get shit in order for the rest of the team.
Setting the broken pieces of my helmet into my locker, I dig my phone out as if it’s not going to be full of more bullshit that’ll have me raging, but I need something to make me look busy. The tiptoeing that’s happening around me right now is setting my temper alight, and I’m struggling to fall back into the smiling, happy Shifter who wouldn’t harm a fly.
I’ve spent a lot of time and energy on that image and now it’sgone.
Seriously, Gabe, I need your help. Are you still playing tonight or have you bailed?