Page 667 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

But then I remember that she does.

I recall all that pain, all that anger, and I could never, ever forget the care I felt from her. She can’t fake that. And I don’t think any of us should really be surprised by her revelation. I know I’m not: Her change of heart was always odd. I knew there was more to it than what she’d say.

So I push past the smarting in my chest that intensifies at the crushed looks on Alby and Tiger’s faces and listen closely as our Bonded explains, “Of course I did. I would simply like to keep you for other reasons now. You may be able to get close to my father in a way I cannot with the energy in my face, but your desire to protect me and defend my honour will help you with that task as much as it will hinder you when he uses me against you. I will not have you throwing yourselves straight into danger. I know your feelings for me well enough to know you would not let him prick me with a needle, let alone kill me with an overload of agony.” Glancing away absently, her nails lightly trace over my arm around her, and goosebumps rise on my skin.

Her words have too many emotions crashing over me to count, but after going through a storm of them collectively, my brothers and I relax, audible exhales of relief greeting the air as we focus on the hidden truth behind her every word: she truly cares about us, even if she won’t admit it outright.

“Knew you’d love me eventually, Havoc, baby.”

“I do not—”

Tiger’s hand slaps over her mouth.

“Shhhh . . .” he hushes gently, expression utterly blissed out. “You’ll ruin the moment, Ezzy. Let us absorb all your love and adoration.”

Her glare is searing enough to melt the hardest, coldest ice.

“And what about your training, HC?” Cooper asks, trying to be gentle, but his stare is severe, and he can’t keep his unbearable need to know in.

Ezla’s slim fingers slowly curl around Tiger’s wrist, her grip firm, and she pulls his hand away while he sticks his bottom lip out. “Lovely,” she deadpans

Something within me fractures.

That’s all we need to know.

But Cooper, of course, believes he needs more. “And that’s wha—”

Ezla, no older than five, being handed her first dagger.

Ezla, no older than seven, being whipped by appallingly familiar blackish-crimson energy.

Ezla, no older than eight, brandishing her armoury sticks out either side of her, prepared to kill a group of teenagers double her age with the blades of Avri manifested, ones that are lighter than they are today, but no less lethal.

Ezla, a handful of years later, mouth open on a distorted scream as she drowns in a tank of water while her father watches impassively, her small hands smacking against the transparent taalk entrapping her with all she has.

Ezla, now savagely scarred, holding a familiar sleek helmet to her chest, her father’s hazy voice in the background telling her she must always keep what is his hidden, safe from prying eyes.

Ezla, panting in a training room I don’t recognise, standing in the centre of a mass of piled-up bodies.

Ezla, pushing off a red-glowing Avri platform, flipping through the air with a battle cry, nothing but malice and cruelty in her mismatched eyes as she brings a luminous sword of energy down on a terrified Evot’s neck.

Gasping in a huge lungful of air, my chest heaves against my Bonded’s back as reality crashes back into focus.

“Jesus fuck,” Cooper hisses, dragging an unstable hand through his messy hair.

That’s an understatement.

“Hm.” Ezla appears completely unbothered by all the memories she’s just dumped in our heads, ones she seems to view from an outside perspective, and I’m not sure if there’s some deeper meaning there, or if she’s given them to us that way so we can see exactly what’s happened to her rather than from her vision in the moments. I kind of want to shake her, just to make sure she knows none of what she’s been through is alright, that she shouldn’t be so calm about it . . . But would I really rather her be distressed, in agony with every thought of her past?

“Moving on,” she says evenly. “My father is playing a different game now. I am looking into it. Leave it to me, but remain cautious.”

Cooper and Tiger both speak at the same time:

“You can’t just brush this off! What about that day we felt your fucking happiness at the possibility of being dead?!”

“But we want to help—”

“Not yet,” Ezla cuts the latter off firmly and completely ignores the former’s words. The words that make my insides cramp and twist in pain.