Page 102 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

A hailstorm of fear and unfettered wrath slams into me. Where is my shy boy? I will annihilate everyone—

I’m here! I’m here, sorry! Alby’s frantic voice comes through. My own pounding heart slows a fraction before it kicks back up to a sprint when he carries on. I’m so sorry! I couldn’t . . . The bond was a bit hazy. I think there’s something wrong with my helmet—

Take it off! Ezla barks.

It is! It is off! I just threw it away! he rushes out, his own panic spiralling through to me in response to Ezla’s threaded through her fury. Fury not at us, but at the situation, we all know.

And you feel okay—

Ezla and my brothers keep speaking, but I’m pulled violently from the conversation as Player 2 shakes my shoulder.

“Sorry,” he quickly says when I startle, and I understand his urgency when a glance to my right shows Aider and Player 87 advancing on us. Shit. I clearly missed a bit. “You told your Bonded?” he guesses, eyes scanning over my face.

I nod. “Yeah. She and my brothers have all taken their helmets off. They’re all okay.”

“Fuck, that’s good.” And he sounds like he means that, too. Player 2’s one of the good ones, and yet he’s been dealt a worse fate than ever, promised to die this year or repeat this all again the next. “I’m Elijah, by the way—Elijah Tenner,” he shares, and I can recall the name from Name Generation Day now. “Just thought it would be nice to know who you’re fighting with.” He gives a half-hearted smile, because there’s no place for any true joy in the midst of a Game.

My chin dips again while he draws his armoury sticks, the energy in them manifesting into two curved dark green blades. “Scotty,” I offer.

“I know. You and your group are kind of celebrities. You know, with the Champion and all.” His smirk is a little more genuine this time, and my own lips twitch in response.

But neither of us get to do much more than that, because in the next second, Aider and his Exot are on us.

30

COOPER

My head whips to the side from the force of Ezla’s slap.

In the next second, her mouth is on mine.

I hardly have the time to think, What the fuck is going on? before I get lost in the kiss, grunting and hardening at once as HC pins me up against the taalk wall of the maze. A maze we need to get to the middle of in an hour or face the consequence of execution. And yet I’d stay in here forever if it meant I could just keep devouring my woman’s mouth.

But evidently, she has different plans, and I’m getting whiplash with the way she’s now scowling at me like I’ve shit in her cereal as she abruptly tears her swollen mouth away from mine . . . Not that she eats anything but unidentifiable fancy-ass shit for every meal.

Panting just from the few short seconds connected to her, I lick my wet lips to savour her taste. I feel like I was mad at her just a second ago when I found her, but the immediate slap and following mind-stunning kiss has thrown me completely out of whack, and I can hardly remember what planet I’m on at the moment. Not until she hisses, “I hate you. I have so many punishments to deliver to you already, and yet you keep adding to them. First, you have the audacity to lecture me, and then you ignore when your life is in danger!”

“I did neither of those things,” I defend, spitting mad in an instant—not that my throbbing dick gets the bloody memo. “I only want you safe. You fucking—”

“Ezzy!”

A thick shock of blond waves crashes into the frame, nearly taking me out as the owner of that hair wraps his limbs around Vengeance like a fucking panda.

Somehow, she doesn’t immediately topple under Tiger’s weight, and I quickly grab her waist from behind to stabilise her while Tate marches over with a gruff, “Havoc. I missed you so fucking much.” Tiger whines as Tate plucks him from Ezla like he’s a kitten rather than a well-muscled man before he takes his place and crushes our Bonded to him.

“You found us quickly,” Vengeance observes as she pushes a reluctant Tate back.

“Fuck yeah, we di—”

“Oh, shit.”

The low curse has all our heads whipping to the end of the hall.

Player 84 stands frozen in place, none of his usual confidence to be seen as he stares at the four of us in open-mouthed horror. Ashen-faced, Aider’s buddy doesn’t move a muscle, because he knows . . . he fucking knows he’s absolutely fucked.

“He is mine,” Ezla hisses, possibly the most intimidatingly malicious promise I’ve heard to date, Avri daggers already manifested, one pointing menacingly at one of our biggest enemies with her arm extended.

Except me, Tate, and Tiger have just made the exact same declaration in perfect unison, our own weapons at the ready, and our Bonded shoots all three of us death glares.