Page 91 of Broken Ties
Even with the assessing look, he takes her deference to me like a gunshot wound to the chest. As she turns away to fuss with her keys, he’s in too much pain to realize how many witnesses there are to him stumbling.
I smirk.
He loses his mind.
My Bond tenses instantly at the snarl he lets out and, god, in any other situation, all bets would be off. I’d tear his head off of his shoulders and enjoy the warm shower of his blood. Shifters are the most satisfying opponents to beat because they never see me coming. They’re nothing but mindless animals, and the manic fury already taking over in his eyes tells me everything I need to know.
With a chuckle loaded with derision, I drawl at him, "Oli has no need for her pouting jailer today, Ardern, so fuck off."
Like clockwork, the glow of the Shift lights up his eyes, but before I can gloat or egg him on further, my Bond sucks in a breath. It’s definitely not fear, at least not for her own safety, more like she knows the consequences of this standoff are going to be severe and it’s that part she dreads. I hate the lot of them, but I know this is North Draven’s fault. That asshole can choke on a dick for all I care.
Before I can reassure her that I won’t let anything happen to her, Ardern snarls back at me, “Don’t fucking tell me what I can and can’t do with my Bond, Bassinger.”
Oli is practically shaking, so I put an arm around her shoulders and tuck her into my side, as close as I can get to wrapping myself around her without pushing her boundaries within minutes of her laying them down. She doesn’t tense, doesn’t push me away, doesn’t make a sound of protest.
He almost implodes entirely.
I pull the pin on the grenade, one final shove off of the cliff to let his insecurities devour him while ramming home the new reality they all face now that I’m here to protect my Bond from them all. “No one wants a sulking dickhead trailing after them, so beat it, Ardern. Do it before I make you. Youreallydon't want me to make you.”
My first daywith my Bond is nothing short of perfect.
Nothing detracts from the high of being by her side and experiencing the first taste of our life ahead. Not Ardern’s wet blanket presence, not the stupidity of the other students openly gaping at us both, and not even the barrage of suspicion from the Draven TacTeam grunts. Despite taking note of it all, my elation is untouched.
Right up until I walk my Bond back to her dorm room and actually take a moment to get a look at the place this time.
It’s a fucking hovel.
Excluding physical violence, I have never seen such a disgusting display of Bond abuse, and coming from the so-called good councilman. The bed is tiny, the sharp points of mattresssprings are clearly visible, and, aside from a small stack of neatly folded clothes, the room is barren. She hasnothing.
“How the fuck did I not notice how bad this is this morning? Pack a bag, Oli. You're moving in with me.”
The sound she makes is like a nervous sob masquerading as a laugh. "I can't do that! This is where the Council put me, they're paying for it. I don't have any money or anything. They won't let me get a job."
Absolutely not.
I need to get her out of here. Right now. Shit, I need to burn this entire building to the ground for daring to inflict itself on my perfect Bond.
"Pack a bag. Looks like they haven't let you have anything here anyway, so it'll all fit in your duffle. You're coming with me now and I'll deal with the Council if they have questions. You're my Bond, I'll take care of you."
Her cheeks instantly flush with shame. "You don't need to do that, I can take care of myself. Well, I could if North would let me work. I'm kind of… bored sitting around here all day."
I refuse to allow myself to feel even a shred of rejection at her words because the misery rolling off of her has my blood boiling in my veins. This is not a Central who doesn’t trust her Bond to take care of her, this is a girl who has been shamed by the power-drunk fucking asshole men who were supposed to protect her and honor her above all but are letting their own pride get in the way.
If her wellbeing, happiness, and life didn’t depend on their survival, I’d fucking kill them all.
Tucking a hand under her elbow, I guide her over to the abomination they’ve forced her to sleep on. It’s almost impossible to hold back my impulsive need to throw her over my shoulder and get her out of this place, so I tell myself that if I’m reassuring her and being absolutely gentle with her while alsophysically moving her into action, it can’t be classed as a control tactic.
I almost believe myself, too.
"Pack. We can figure out how to get you a job later, once you're out of this shithole. It would be my honor to take care of you while you find your feet, Oli. Wouldn't you do the same for me?"
Her response is instant, unwavering, and everything I ever wanted to hear. "Well, of course, but the others will be pissed you're doing this and… I can’t bond with you. I can’t give you any reasons why either. This is a fucking mess.”
I scoff at her, but only because it’s clearly not the first time she’s had to place a boundary around Bonding, but I’m also absolutely sure I’m the first one she’s hated having to do it with. I can feel the pull between us, the way she’s practically orbiting me, and no matter how much I crave her, this is enough for me…… for now. Until she’s ready and she’s confident in not only our relationship but her own abilities to control her bond. I don’t want to be Bonded at her expense.
I’m not my fucking father.
“We’ll figure out our Bonding when we’re ready, you don’t owe me a goddamn thing. Oli, I need you to understand that I don’t give a fuck what they think. I care about our Bond. I care about getting to know you and us making decisions together. My place isn't swanky or anything, it’s just an apartment, but it's better than this. We can eat real food too, not the cafeteria crap we just had to choke down.”