Page 797 of The Bonding Games: Part 1

“TELL ME!” I bellow right back, grabbing either side of her helmet and pushing mine against hers, eyes darting around wildly as if I could see through the opaque onyx before me and into her mismatched ones beneath. “Please,” I add on a rasp, some of my momentum failing when I feel a stab of raw pain that unintentionally slips through the bond. I ignore the sounds of another argument breaking out with the men around me involving Tate’s raging voice and Tiger and Scotty’s tense ones trying to calm him down, and it’s a good thing Ezla has us here so early because it’s a ridiculous enough time that we’re the only ones in here to witness us crumbling apart so catastrophically.

If you could even call us put-together in the first place.

“There is nothing.” But her voice breaks, and every single man in the room freezes, their mouths slamming shut at the first hint of such vulnerability we’ve ever heard from our Bonded.

My eyes water, and I don’t care how weak I might look. This is killing me.

I want to prod and pick at the cracks formed, to peel back the layers and find Ezla beneath it all, the parts of her we still haven’t met yet.

“Ezla, Love . . .” Scotty’s voice is closer now, and I pull back a little to give him room. “Let us be here for you, please. You must be able to feel us through the bond, to know we’re being honest in how much we want to avenge you, to take care of you.” Cautiously, he reaches out, and when Vengeance doesn’t flinch or run or kick his lights out, he places a gentle hand on her back just below her armoury sticks, his green Avri clashing with her crimson in a visible display of the differences between them. And yet they’re perfect for each other. I’ve come to believe each of us fit with her faultlessly.

If only she could see that, too.

“I do not need to be taken care of.” Ezla forces the emotionless quality to her tone this time, and we can tell.

“I know you don’t,” he soothes, tentatively caressing her back up and down, and up and down, as if she’s a wild animal that might attack or bolt at any given moment if he’s not careful. “But don’t queens get taken care of anyway?”

“There are no queens in Techta.”

A faint smile curls up one side of Scotty’s mouth. “No? There may not be a royal family like there was two thousand years ago, but you might as well be a goddess here, Love. And I think you know that.”

“Hm.”

I know I’m not getting answers once again, but I can tell even through the disappointment that this is best for today. I even relax a little with HC’s curt hum of approval, a trickle of amusement running through me at the pleased confidence in her agreement that’s not at all unfounded.

“29. Up,” she orders, though much less savagely this time. She steps out of mine and Scotty’s cocoon to monitor Alby’s every move as he takes a deep breath, not hesitating to obey this time when he sprints with determination in his eyes, pushing past his fear.

Green Avri that’s deepened another shade since Game 3 shoots out of the Avri pads on the bottom of his boots as he launches himself three feet off the ground, the seat of the jet forming beneath him in a rush of luminous pixels, then the wings, the nose . . . all of it.

Tiger whistles with two fingers in his mouth. “Go, Bestie!” he cheers, and I track Alby as he soars high with my own pride filling me up. He’s come so far from when I first met him in the short weeks training with us and our Bonded.

But another part of me hates it. Because it’s just one more person forced to become something they shouldn’t have to because of the sickness of The Council. Nobody says it so directly, but I can’t be the only one who resents them. And Ezla’s father—

My blood. Runs. Cold.

No.

I’m such a fool. I should have realised it sooner. I’m almost certain . . .

I need to see her scar again.

The desperation within me has me fired up all over again, and my mouth is just opening to demand she take her helmet off—

When Alby’s terrified yell splits open the air.

“Alby!” Tiger cries, rushing forwards at the same moment all of us instinctively do when we see Alby’s Avri jet demanifest mid-air.

But Ezla is faster.

Racing forwards, she throws herself up high, luminous crimson energy solidifying beneath her, the Avri jet speeding upwards for where Alby’s now falling too hard, too fast. No one breathes as time slows to a crawl, his arms grabbing at the air frantically as if a rope may come out of nowhere and save him.

But one doesn’t, and the seconds that go by only return to normal when Ezla whizzes underneath him and yanks him into position behind her. He instantly clings to her with his eyelids crushed tightly together, long arms banded around her waist desperately.

Bloody hell, that almost gave me a heart attack.

Placing a hand over my chest, I will the pounding organ within to calm the hell down, letting out a long, slow breath, more sounds of relief gliding through the space around me.

Vengeance lands and helps Alby to the ground before her Avri sucks back into the bottom of her boots, and we all hurry over, Tiger in an all-out sprint before he chucks his entire body weight at Alby. They topple to the taalk. “Oh my god, Bestie! You almost died!” he cries, and you can hear the horror in his words even though no tears fall. “You can’t leave me! You’re literally a brother to me!”