Page 715 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

My attention is drawn back to the raging woman in front of me as she spews venom, screaming to be heard over the din of the crowd, whose attention seems to all be on our specific group—obviously because we’ve just bonded Ezla freaking Zefron and—

Oh.

My.

God.

I’m bonded to Ezla Zefron.

Holy shit. Holy fucking—

Another debilitating swarm of wrath crashes over me.

“I HATE YOU! I WILL KILL YOU ALL! I WILL MAKE YOUR LIVES HELL!—”

Wincing, I fight the urge to cover my ears.

It wouldn’t drown out the remorse ripping away at my insides anyway.

This isn’t the Champion everyone usually sees; she’s not cool or composed or taunting. Never before when I’ve watched The Bonding Games on TV has she been anything other than that.

“—CARVE OUT YOUR HEARTS AND KEEP THEM PRESERVED ON STAKES!—”

Ezla’s body turns to stone, every muscle pulling taut, cutting off her tirade as a barely audible pained sound escapes with that mechanical warp to it from her unique helmet.

I feel some of that pain zap through me, and I jump slightly.

“Ezla? Havoc, baby, what’s wrong?!” Player 4 steps right up to her, eyes now crazed in a different way than before—in horror at the thought of the Champion suffering. He leans down to meet her shorter height, hands almost swallowing her helmet whole as he cups it like it’s precious.

Until he’s knocked back by her headbutting him with a loud bonk! as their visors collide.

He jerks back, blinking . . . before huffing and muttering something about the love of his life not letting her future husband take care of her.

Okay . . . wow.

Tiger, his highly expressive features scrunched, brows pulled down low, sticks his face right in front of Ezla’s helmet next, as if wishing to be her second victim. “No, seriously, are you okay? I can feel—”

Her knee slams into his crotch.

“OWWWWW!”

With his voice echoing around the entire venue, my hands dart down to cover my own dick, bonding cubes digging into my palms. We have protection over that area, but, as just proven, that protection really isn’t top-notch.

Please don’t come for me next.

The moment I think the words, Ezla’s head snaps in my direction. I feel the scorching heat of her stare spearing into me through her taalk visor.

Oh . . . hells. Did I just . . . ?

I’d almost forgotten.

Mind communication.

Keep your eyes and hands to yourself, and I will not have to, a purring voice slides through my head.

My jaw unhinges.

Oh . . . my . . . god.