Page 139 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

“And you are so arrogant, so sure of their safety, that you would tell us? Peter is not trained. It does not matter how well he believes he has hidden them—we will get them without issue.”

That superior look on his face doesn’t waver. “But it will be too late. By then, the tablets will be ready to go—”

Ezla has gripped him by the throat and pointed the lethal tip of her dagger at the underside of his jaw before I even realise what’s happening myself. “What have you done to them—”

Vengeance cuts off with a pained sound she can’t keep from escaping in time, and agony seeps into the bond even as she tries to slam it closed. She somehow stays in place, pushing past the anguish, but me and the rest of her Bonds certainly fucking don’t.

“Havoc!” Tate roars, starting forwards without waiting for a command.

Charging right at Joseph beside Scotty, I’m readying to do just as my brother promised and send his head flying across the room. Holding my dagger up, I point it at him in a grip shaking with rage as I near with speed. “You’re not leaving here alive. After all you’ve done to our woman—”

“Kill them.”

I hardly manage to dodge the ruby-glowing throwing star that rushes for my head at Joseph’s calm order.

Ducking, I feel the rush of air pass just an inch above my head.

A venomous curse shoots from my mouth as I rise to see the horde of third-school Exots advancing on us, two heading right for me. Attention now diverted, I’m forced to focus my attack on those two while the rest head for my brothers. And we’re severely outnumbered, just as we were the first time at the Neutral club, but I have to hope that, also just like then, we can defeat them.

But that was largely Ezla’s doing—I know for a fact we wouldn’t have made it out of that club if she hadn’t turned up to save us. And right now, she’s in no condition to fight. She needs to be taken care of after that video, the one that has vomit threatening to rush up my throat at the thought, those images stuck in my head. Instead, she’s now having to deal with her sperm donor torturing her while we fight around her.

Spinning, I reshape the Avri in my right hand, and I feel the baton warping, constricting in my gloved palm, before I’m launching the formed throwing star the short distance to the first Exot’s neck. The dark green blur slices straight through muscle and bone, and there’s guilt when the man’s helmeted head thumps to the ground along with his body, especially when I have no idea if they’re here willingly or not, but it’s either them or my brothers and the woman I love, and there’s really no choice there at all.

“You do not . . . touch my men,” Ezla grinds out through the pain I can still feel racking through her, and fucking hell, I need to get to her. I need to get her away from that monster. But I won’t be able to help her if I turn my back on one of these Exots and get stabbed right through it.

Catching my throwing star after it soars back to me and slams into my hand, my Avri unable to hurt me, I drop down as the second of my attackers reaches me, undeterred by the fate of his partner. The swoosh of air above my unprotected head as his deep red blade slices through it mixes in with the other sounds of combat as my brothers face off with the other fourteen Exots I counted.

Grunting as the new man’s elbow slams into my back in the split second it’s facing him, I quickly whip myself around in my crouch and lash out with the long blade I bring to my right-hand armoury stick next. He jumps back just in time to avoid a gash across the front of his legs, but my left arm stabs forwards with the curved dagger in that fist as I rise up, aiming for his heart.

“I do whatever I want, Ezla.” I hear Joseph’s drawling words in the background as my blade splits the Exot before me’s Avri suit open, a stream of blood pouring from his chest, but not enough to disable him in any way. “And these men, these pathetic Evots, are not yours.” I don’t know if it’s mine or Tate’s or all of my brothers’ bellows of rage that split apart the air when he delivers enough pain to make our Bonded scream and drop to her damn knees before him in my peripheral, her hands that are still clutching her armoury sticks snapping up to press against the sides of her head, but red threatens to take over my vision, then black splotches from the sheer force of the wrath within me.

Kill them all, Ezla hisses down the bond, her own fury amplified by the pain and humiliation I can feel from her, and I’m not about to disobey. I don’t even consider it. All I care about is getting to her, and at this moment, I’d slaughter anyone in my path to do it.

Yes, Vengeance, I return.

Gladly, Havoc.

Hold on, Love. I’m almost to you.

Tiger and Alby give their immediate agreements too, and things pass in somewhat of a blur for the next few moments as an unexpected attacker comes up behind me. I spin to deal with him at the same time as the other man.

Ezla’s made us fight like this with one another, so I’m not unused to this kind of two-against-one fight. But that doesn’t mean it’s at all easy, and I suck in air through my teeth as my right side is slashed in unison with the fatal blow I deliver to the newest Exot’s stomach.

I don’t know how deep it is, but I’m still standing strong. Maybe it’s adrenaline keeping me going without a pinch of dizziness, or maybe the wound isn’t bad at all. I can only hope for the latter as I narrow my focus down to the other—

Inky-crimson, a dagger slams into the man’s neck.

My head snaps to the left to see my stunning, ridiculously stubborn Bonded dragging herself past her pain to help us.

I have no fucking clue how she’s standing—I’m only getting wisps of her agony with the way she’s holding it back, and that alone is making it harder to concentrate and move my limbs; I’ve felt myself threaten to stagger a few times when she loses her grip on the shield keeping her anguish from us.

Jesus fucking Christ, she’s bloody brilliant, a miracle as she whips about on the taalk floor in a move I know Alby’s taken a liking to from her, catching two unsuspecting Exot’s legs as they attempt to launch surprise attacks on Tate and Scotty from behind. But . . .

Don’t burn yourself out, HC. Don’t hurt yourself. You trained us. We don’t—

Do not say you do not need me, she seethes as I rush over to her, giving her my help no matter how damn hard she might try to resist it as I jump on one of the fallen Exots while she takes the other. I have trained you well, but you are wildly outnumbered.

I didn’t mean to be insulting—of course we need you. I just want you to save your strength. You’re not in the right condition to fight, Ezla. And you’ve trained us exceptionally well, like you said, maybe even to the point we could defeat these Exots for you. So you don’t need to waste your energy. Joseph—