Page 270 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

Don’t get me wrong, the way Techta is designed is pretty awesome, but sometimes I wish there was a little more colour. Evots don’t get to wear anything but black and green, and I’m someone who’d like to try all the colours out. Especially red. I’d look so hot in red.

Would Ezla think so too?

A bolt of energy shoots through me.

Ezla . . . my Bonded. My Bonded . . . Ezla.

I’M BONDED TO EZLA ZEFRON!

WHOOOOOO!

That’s such bragging rights. Plus, I really wanna see her again. She’s a tad scary, but, as I’ve said, I’m definitely interested after my interactions with her in Game 1. Like, very interested.

Maybe we could go find her?

My entire being lights up. Yes! And we could all do, like, twenty-one questions or something to get to know each other!

Tossing my bonding cube on the bed in the centre of my new room to deal with later, I scurry back out the minimalistic but luxurious space with my marvellous plan on hand. I enter the hallway—

And stop short.

My jaw crashes to the floor.

“Oh, my . . .” Then a slow smirk takes over. “Oh, my, my, my . . .”

I creep closer.

At the end wall of the hallway, a seventh door I’d first overlooked has been left open where Tate has gone inside to have a look around. And if the way he adjusts himself is any indication, I’d say he likes what he sees . . . or more like whatever his imagination is conjuring up.

A strangled noise from behind me draws my attention to Alby, whose face has turned into a tomato. Surprisingly—or not too surprisingly, if I recall the way my brother reacted to my earlier suggestion of romance with our Bonded correctly—Scotty’s cheeks aren’t faring much better from where he stands at his side.

Cooper’s head pops out from the last door on the wall on my right, brows lowered—as I’ve quickly realised is his norm—until they rocket to his hairline at the sight before us all. “Is that . . . ?”

“Uh-huh!” My grin stretches wide.

“Fucking hell,” my brother mutters under his breath, even as he moves towards the room with purpose as if drawn by an invisible string. My bestie gulps and drifts after him, me and Cooper doing the same, the latter much more cautiously than my buoyant gait.

“That bed is huge,” Alby whispers, bugged-out eyes absorbing the unnaturally massive mattress covered in silky onyx pillows and sheets. My own fascinated gaze tries to take everything in at once, from the expected luminous Avri strips—some white, some red, some green—to the huge wardrobe, a comfy-looking chair in the left corner, a large adjoining bathroom on the right-hand side that doesn’t have a door because privacy is an unknown concept in this room, drawers filled with . . . is that lube?

“Can’t wait to pound into your hot little ass, Havoc, baby,” Tate murmurs as he fixes obsessed eyes on the bottle he’s picked up like it’s the Champion herself, running the tips of his gloved fingers over the top of the small chest of drawers acting as a bedside table as if it’s her skin with his other hand.

Yes. Yes, it is.

I’m not even sure he’s noticed us yet, too lost in fantasy world, but I’m a little scared to be here when he does; this room is clearly meant for our Bonded group as a whole, and we all know how the big fella feels about sharing who he views as his girl.

“Bloody hell, is this a sex dungeon?” That’s my guy Coops as he rummages through the drawers on the opposite side of the bed, incredulously checking out a handful of black ropes.

Alby covers his face with his hands.

“Looks like it,” my brother mumbles, on the edge of losing what little composure he has left.

“What do you—”

My question never makes it out, gasps torn from all our throats as unfeasible rage pounds down the bond and through every inch of our bodies.

17

EZLA