Page 776 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

“Then do it.”

“Cooper, what are you doing?” Scotty hisses, stepping closer. Then he looks to Vengeance. “Lo— Ezla, we know you can. You’re not afraid. No one can hurt you.”

I work my jaw, glaring at him as he lies. But I know he’s saving my life right now. Because I’m not so sure HC won’t kill me, even if I thought she might have warmed to us marginally.

“You mean nothing to me.” My Bonded’s voice is blank. Nothing there at all. “Do you understand? You are nothing. All of you.”

Sharp breaths are sucked in around the training room.

“You all do as you are told. You do not try to get close to me, or understand me. There is nothing to see. Do. You. Understand?”

“Yes.” The word is chorused by all of us in a mixture of hurt and anger, and I avoid looking at the other men, especially when I hear broken whimpers from Alby and Tiger.

Because I know they all know this is my fault. I can never control my damn temper.

It’s always my fault.

34

TIGER

“GET OUT OF BED, YOU LAZY FUCK!”

I groan at my brother’s muffled-but-still-wayyy-too-loud voice, shoving my pillow over my head to block out the banging on the door, the fresh scent of silk filling my nostrils.

Ahhhh, peace.

“I know your alarm’s going off! I can hear it through the door!”

My hand pops out of the pile of sheets I’m cocooned in to smack at the alarm clock on my bedside table.

“Ezla wants us at the Training Centre a half hour earlier than usual, come on! You need to eat!”

My lips tremble at the thought of our Bonded. I think I might . . . I think I might be in love with her. No, I know I am. Doesn’t matter how early on it is—I’m sure about what I feel. And I’ve never been shy about expressing any of my feelings.

I love the way she’s so unapologetically her, just like I’m so unapologetically me. How she doesn’t care what people think, her confidence and how straight-to-the-point she is. I love the thrill I get every time she’s on my mind . . . which is really every hour of every day, so I’m excited all the time—to the point I sometimes forget our training sessions are preparing us for death games. I love how when I get her attention, it’s unwavering, how I can feel the intensity of it through her visor. Oooh, and I especially love the way she bosses me about like I’m her pet dog, like she owns me. I just . . . I internally sigh, belly all tingly. I just love everything about her.

But she . . . It’s clear she doesn’t love me in return.

No matter! I’ll be so good for her! I’ll be such a good boy she won’t be able to resist!

My heart still feels crushed by an anvil from her most recent rejection, but it’s okay. I won’t give up on Ezzy. She’s just hurting. She needs time. All good things come with . . . major challenges and an impossible mission.

My insides light up at my motivating self-talk, and I stick my head out from under my pillow before springing from my bed like the gazelle I am. How can Ezla think she can resist these moves?

Heading to the bathroom and unlocking the door with a scan of my thumb, I stop at the sight of myself in the mirror.

Then I swing my golden head of hair around like a model just to see how it shifts around my face and what looks the most sexy to seduce Ezla.

Once satisfied, I bite my lip in that way I’m trying to perfect that Tate seems to do so well. Hmmm . . . something about this looks off, but I can’t put my finger on it. I scrutinise myself for a full minute, teeth digging into my lower lip, eyes squinted.

Then shrug. “Good enough.”

“Tiger! Hurry up, fuck’s sake! What are you doing in there?!”

“I’m in the bathroom, broski! Take a chill pill, my gawwwd!”

“Did you forget that Game 3 is today?!”