Page 278 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

“She came to me . . . said she was impressed by my skills, by my Score . . .”

Aider’s words sound shrouded in film as the world starts to lose focus around me.

“I offered to impress her with something else.”

With something else . . .

He steps closer, lowering his voice. “And she loved it.”

Breathing completely out of control, I struggle to stay upright.

Why are his words affecting me so much? Why is there both something as green as my Avri and something as red as an Exot’s sluicing through my veins?

“I stretched that tight little pussy of hers so good she’ll feel me for days—”

My fist slams into his face so hard the CRACK! feels like it should be heard for miles.

Panting harshly, adrenaline thrums through my veins, body vibrating with it.

I watch Aider as he slowly straightens, mahogany waves of hair hanging in his face from the way his head had snapped back. I almost want to be a smartass and tell him, this is why you wear a helmet, just like Scotty scolded me the other day, but I think that’s a bit too far for me, even with my sudden burst of confidence.

His face gives nothing away as he brings the tips of his fingers to his nose. Once perfectly straight, it’s now deformed, crooked, and blood immediately drips over the black material shrouding his hand.

Knuckles throbbing but luckily not damaged due to my own gloves in place, my lips part as what I just did catches up to me.

Oh . . . shit.

I don’t regret it, though.

But I almost do when a grin only the devil himself could wear comes across Aider’s face, crimson trickling into his mouth and staining his teeth. A demented laugh I should have suspected he was hiding inside him all these years he’d kept so composed tumbles from his mouth.

Then he lunges at me.

***

Aider’s thrown across the room to land several feet away with Troy, who was taken down like a domino when his master smacked into him.

Mouth wide open, I gape at my saviour.

Tate stands there like a raging bull, teeth bared, every muscle bulging beneath his Avri suit. The most bloodthirsty, merciless glare I’ve ever witnessed bores into the two men on a heap on the floor. “You’re dead,” he promises.

And then he’s on them.

Blood sprays everywhere, grunts and cries ringing out as the three of them grapple on the ground. But nothing can defeat Tate’s destructive fury, and he’s on top most of the time, not bothering to use anything other than his body to disfigure his enemies in the most primal way, large fists crushing into one face, then the next.

“NO ONE TALKS ABOUT MY HAVOC LIKE THAT! NO ONE!”

A tooth goes flying.

“YOU’LL DIE FOR IT!”

I don’t look away, not once, despite the horror of it all. I even feel some satisfaction for every hit that connects, for every agonised cry that splits the air open.

“AND I’LL MAKE SURE YOU’RE SUFFOCATING ON YOUR OWN SEVERED COCK WHILE YOU DO! YOU DISRESPECTED MY GIRL AND TOUCHED HER!”

Movement from the corner of my eye snatches my attention to the left, where my soul practically leaves my body with the panic that overtakes me in an instant.

Two Exots, the ones Aider and Troy have bonded, stride over, malice and the need for retribution for their Bonds etched into every crevice of their faces.