Page 707 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

My remaining hand clutches on to the luminous handlebar on my right in a vice-like grip in attempt to stay upright as the little vixen zooms off on her crimson tribike. For a moment, I wonder if she’s decided to spare us . . . before I realise it’s quite the opposite:

We’re such easy prey to the she-devil that she’s chosen to toy with us rather than kill us all outright.

And now she’s circling back around to continue playing with her food.

A colourful spew of curses draws my concerned gaze to my brother just as his arm begins to grow back. It’s neither slow nor fast, just right for me to be able to watch the pixels rebuilding everything that was lost, including the severed portion of his suit and glove.

Mine does the same then, causing me to cringe at the odd tingling sensation. It doesn’t hurt, but it’s weird as fuck, and I’d rather never experience this shit again. And we can’t actually see our percentages, but we’ve learned in EvTS that losing a full limb like that usually takes about 25% off our health, so we really need to be more careful. Even if we do still have a decent amount of health left, the regeneration serum can’t work forever.

“Are you guys okay?!”

Alby’s alarmed cry draws my attention to him coming up behind us, and I swallow. I don’t want to let him down, and I definitely don’t want to let my brother down.

But how can I reassure either of them when the only thing I’m certain about is that the next time the Champion greets us . . . we’re all dead?

12

TATE

With a cock like a steel pipe digging into the seat of my tribike, it’s a little difficult to ride.

After being stolen from my Havoc by some very fucking rude Exots who seemed eager to dice me up for stew with the way they were swinging around their red-glowing axes and swords—somehow managing to chop off my entire damn hand in the process—I’ve finally got back on track and am closing in on Ezla as she melts my heart by hunting down a trio of fellow Evots.

So cute.

But also . . . How dare they hold her attention? She’s mine.

Fuckers.

Maybe I’ll butcher them? Chop them up into so many titchy little pieces, Havoc’s attention won’t even be able to find them.

“Baby, slow down! My dick’s too hard to put this kind of pressure on it!”

My girl’s head whips around, and said appendage twitches.

I can feel her burning glare on me through her sleek obsidian helmet, and it’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt in my entire life. She’s looking at me. I have her interest.

I just want to jump on her and fuck her brains out. Show everyone that she’s mine.

But then I’d have to kill the entire world, and that wouldn’t leave me with enough time to bathe in Ezla’s presence.

No. Only I’ll get to see her in that state.

When she’d first come into view before the countdown started, it felt like I was falling in love with her all over again: my knees weakened, and my blood heated; the crotch of my suit tightened, and my fists clenched to stop myself from grabbing her; the organ in my chest pounded out a mad anthem for her, and my head went fuzzy . . .

Five years ago.

Five fucking years ago to the day was the first time I saw her.

On TV for the first time, she took my breath away. At just thirteen years old, she was already a deadly queen, the red on her helmet and suit only a handful of shades lighter than it is today. My sixteen-year-old self was fascinated; my seventeen-year-old self completely obsessed. Then at eighteen, I knew I was in love with her.

Was it morally wrong? I’m not sure. And me and morals have never been on good enough terms to have a long chat about it, but I wouldn’t have touched her. Even I’m not sick enough for that.

But she was mine then, and she’s mine now.

And I’m finally going to get to tell her that. Show her that.

Some people may not believe what I feel for her is real love, and after getting none from my parents after they realised I wasn’t normal, maybe I shouldn’t know what it feels like.