Unbroken Bonds (The Bonds That Tie #6)(9)

Underneath the filth of the fight, my hair is so white that it's almost transparent, what little color had been in it has leached completely away. I doubt it could get any lighter than this, though I suppose I felt that way the last time I had used my Gift. It still found a way to get lighter. My eyes look sunken in my skull. My skin is dry and dull and bruised, and every bit of the exhaustion that I'm feeling is etched into the lines and bruises on my skin.

I let my eyes drift down slowly and find an array of scratches and small marks littering my arms and legs, along with the bruising from Davies' attack. My Bonded might all look perfect, thanks to the power boost I had given them, but I already know a trip to see Felix is in my future. There's no way any of them will stand for me healing the slow and normal way once they get a look at the small smattering of damage I've taken.

The real damage is to my mind, but they’ll all know that as well, I suppose.

I rub my hands over my arms as I stare off into space, forgetting entirely that the water is probably piping hot by now, and a chill settles into my bones at the sight of the aftermath of using my Gift. It's nothing that I wasn't already expecting, but it still bothers me. There’s no denying how many people I killed today.

It’s written all over me.

Finally, I duck underneath the hot spray and let it fall over my head, soaking through and washing away some of the disgust I feel at myself. I have to scrub viciously to clean my hair; the blood and dirt is a nightmare to wash out. By the time the water falling from me finally starts to clear, I hear the door open.

I don’t need to turn to know that the god-bond has come looking for me.

I open my mouth to tell it… something, I don’t really know what, when North’s voice filters through our mind connection to me.

The gods have agreed to tell us what we need to know. All of them.





Gryphon's bond refuses to speak unless he is seated right next to me, so I find myself wedged between it and Atlas, his arm around my shoulders as he tucks me in close to his side. I'm still not afraid of the bond doing anything to me, but I already know that this is more about satisfying Atlas’ need for my protection than anything else.

North sits across from us all with a file in front of him that’s full of Nox’s research notes, everything we have so far on the god-bonds throughout history. Nox sits on the other side of Gryphon with a stern face and watchful eyes as he takes in the god-bond wearing his best friend. His shadows are still out and snuffling around on the floor at our feet, pretending that they’re docile and playful creatures and not the nightmare monsters they truly can be should anything happen to Nox or I.

Perfect little puppies.

Gabe is sitting on the other side of Atlas, nursing a small glass with an antacid in it. His face is still looking a little green as he sips away at the mixture. When I give him a questioning look, he grimaces at me.

“The dragon ate too many of the Resistance, and apparently, that doesn't agree with my stomach.”

Atlas scoffs and laughs at him, barely reacting when I dig my elbow into his stomach uselessly. He does duck down to press a kiss to my hair, almost as though he’s repentant.

A total lie.

North’s eyes flick around at each of the Bonded Group until they land on me, sticking for a moment on the color of my hair and the bruise around my eye before he says, “I've already called Felix, and he will be down to see us once the TacTeam members who were injured are in stable condition. He’s been delayed with the influx from the second Wasteland clean-out.”

I shrug and wiggle into Atlas’ side a little further, taking comfort in the warm weight of his arm around me. “I’m not worried about it. It doesn't hurt or anything, and I think we all have bigger issues to deal with.”

North's mouth turns down a little further, but he gives me a curt nod. I already know that he is the fixer of our Bonded Group, the one who has to make everything as perfect as it can be. So his attitude is merely because there is a problem he can't immediately fix, the unpleasantness of it doubling since it's his beloved Bonded with the issue.

Sometimes, I think I don’t deserve this man and his love.

I try to shake the feeling out of myself, the tendrils of self-loathing that sometimes come after I’ve used my Gift like this, but they have their claws dug in tightly under my skin.

The god-bond next to me cocks his head again. He looks curiously like a feline every time he does it, but when he reaches out his hand towards my face, everyone at the table reacts at the same time.

“No.”

“Don't touch her.”

“If you even attempt anything on her right now—”

I hear them all, but my bond moves my body regardless, leaning my face in until his palm rests over my bruised cheek. His Gift flows through me, chasing away the throbbing pain that was there before, and I think that’s the end of it, his pain-numbing ability a familiar thing to me by now.

Then North's eyes widen across the table from me.

“Since when have you had the ability to heal?” he says. “Or is this something that has come with the god-bond waking up?”

I feel the god-bond stroke his thumb over my cheekbone, the first true sign of affection between the two of us, and I don't need my own bond kicking in to nuzzle further into it.

I don't think it's going to kill Gryphon.