Page 190 of The Bonding Games: Part 2

Cooper’s brows twitch downwards. “You’re meant to ask.”

“That’s what I thought,” I whisper, trying to keep my voice down so I don’t ruin the moment but unable to keep my thoughts in.

Tate ignores us both, only keeps searing his storm-grey eyes into Ezla.

Letting out a short breath, Cooper shakes his head before attaching his own gaze firmly back to our Bonded. “Vengeance, I . . .” Clearing his throat, he tries again, “I love you more than anything. In that first week, I recognised you immediately—I saw you. Despite my hatred of violence, I was drawn right into you, and not once did I try to fight it. I’d never felt the way I did after only just meeting someone.” Swallowing hard, he continues, “And you’ve made me so goddamn happy, Ezla. I didn’t realise there was something missing, would never have expected you’d be that something . . . and I just . . . I want to spend the rest of my life with you. To be able to call you my wife.” I only notice there was a fine tremble in his hands when he forces them still. “Will you marry me?”

She doesn’t answer him yet, and it’s clear she’ll hear us all speak before she gives any of us a response as her mismatched eyes linger on him.

Scotty starts gently, “Love . . .”

All her heady attention zeroes in on him.

His blue eyes hold hers. “Never have I met anyone like you. Someone so extraordinary, so ridiculously strong . . . intelligent, so assertive . . .” Lips twitching as satisfaction ripples through the bond from Ezla, his entire expression softens again as he carries on. “I’m in awe of you every day, Ezla. I’m so damn grateful to have you by my side, to wake up with you each morning and be able to tell you how much I love you—to hear and feel your love for me in return. I can’t put into words how happy you’ve made me, how amazing every second with you feels. And the way you let me take care of you means so goddam much. I want to be able to give you everything you deserve, to look after you for the rest of our lives, and nothing could get better than you calling me your husband while my brothers and I make sure you’re the happiest woman on the planet.” A layer of moisture coats his eyes, and he exhales an unsteady breath before finishing, “Please . . . will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

The ridge of her throat shifts with her swallow, her slim fingers twitching.

I can only wait a moment as I gradually pull in every single particle of oxygen in the vicinity, heart pounding as I watch the silent, deeply intimate moment, before the dam bursts.

“From the moment I met you, I knew I would marry you! You’ve always been exciting, even when I was terrified of you and you cut my arm off after I tried to flirt with you—something I’d never tried before that, but that came so naturally with you, turning me into a god of temptation for you, your pet, and your loyal future husband from there on out! You’re so unique and confident, and I love how you express yourself without shame just like I do! It’s one of my favourite things about you! I absolutely adore the way you’re your amazing, super scary self all the time and you just own it, chopping everyone but us apart! Oh, and you treat me so, so good! Not once did you make me feel different for my ADHD, even when I’ve been able to tell you wanted to toss me to another country! Will you please become my real wifey, Wifey/DN/Deadly Nightshade/Ezla/Ezzy/Ez?!”

I say everything in the one single breath I prepared (Okay, I might’ve slipped an extra one in there.), and I’m not sure if that’s the reason for the light-headedness making me feel all woozy or it’s from all the excitement. Dragging in multiple gulps of air, I don’t think I’m appearing as handsome and swoon-worthy as I was meant to, but it’s fine because through my slightly concerningly spotty vision, I see Ezzy’s beautiful focus all boring into my soul.

She keeps that gorgeously overpowering gaze on me until she sees I’m not about to die from lack of oxygen, then turns to face the last of us.

Alby’s visibly trembling, and he has to take several deep breaths before he can begin. “When I . . . when I first saw you in person, I was sure I was about to die at your hand. I’d never been more scared in my life.” He pauses, and I know he’s remembering Game 1 right now. “But then I bonded you . . . and you spoke to me . . .” The tips of his ears are swallowed by his full-body blush. “It’s the first time I had the reaction I did. I’d never had a crush on anyone before, and suddenly, I was feeling all these new things, and it was all because of you. I had no idea what I was doing—I still don’t, really—but you guided me. You . . . you didn’t treat me like an anomaly, and you . . . you’ve changed me, pushed me to be the version of myself I could only ever dream of being. You’ve made me comfortable in my body, happy with who I am. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I really, really want to call you my wife.” He’s shaking as he whispers, “Will you . . . will you marry me?”

The air seems to still, silence enveloping the room as his words fade away.

I don’t know what we’ll do if she says no. I know we’re already bound to her in the most intimate way a person can be bound to another with our bonding cubes, but marriage feels just as, if not more, important here. She’s already chosen us in so many ways—she literally bound our lives together. But the reality is our first binding wasn’t her choice—it was ours. She never would have chosen us back then. She never would have chosen anyone. And I’ve never not believed her when she’s said we’re hers and she’s ours in return, but with who she is, the way she’s lived all her life . . . accepting our proposal would be going against everything she used to believe in.

Before, willingly binding herself to anyone would feel like walking right into a cage, like one of the worst things she could ever experience, and I’m not sure how much of those feelings she still has. I’m not sure if she’s at the point where all she’ll see in marrying the five of us is love and freedom.

Not until she slowly turns to take each one of us in and says, “Never did I think I would be so deeply pleased by anyone trying to bind me to them, and yet the five of you so determined to do so in every way possible makes me extremely . . . happy.” Her words turn blunt in a snap. “Yes. I will marry you.”

EPILOGUE 6

EZLA

“I do” was not at all hard to say last night. Neither were my promises to kill anyone who even thinks to harm a single one of my Bonds. It was not difficult in the slightest to bind myself further to the men who freed me from more chains than I even knew I wore.

Never in my life have I felt this contentment, this peace and happiness.

Scotty’s warm torso is pressed tightly to my back as he and the rest of my men sleep peacefully after our night together. His arm is wrapped securely around me, and I can feel each steady rise and fall of his chest as I hold on to his forearm. My other hand is buried in Tiger’s thick golden locks, his bare body pressed to my front.

I cannot fully describe the feeling I get every time I wake up like this, every time I process the fact that the men whose arms are around me do not belong to him, the living parasite I once called Father. In the four months since the Games I was bonded in, I have grown more confident with all these new emotions and sensations inside of me, but I still cannot identify everything, yet I suppose I would call this . . . light, in the simplest way possible. The air does not feel too thin or too thick, nor is there any woody black pepper in it. There is no nothingness or what would otherwise be revulsion, agony, and a crushing rage that I could not always bear the weight of. All that is here is them. My men.

When they first claimed me, I believed they had stolen my freedom. They had completely ruined my plans, and so I had to make new ones. New ones that led me here, to the realisation that they did not steal my freedom at all, but help me find it. They dragged my heart from me along the way, and yet I am not mad that they have taken it and will not be giving it back, just as I would not let them take theirs back in the impossible reality they dared try to.

We belong to each other.

Fingers twitch on my leg, and my eyes whip down to the tanned hand on it before snapping back up when Cooper’s face appears behind Tiger’s. “Vengeance.” His voice is roughened from sleep, dark hair tousled, and my entire body tingles.

“Husband,” I reply evenly, and his mouth breaks into a lazy grin, russet eyes sparkling. He and the others seem to be smiling nonstop lately, and it does strange things to the seemingly not-so-black organ in my chest.

Propped up on his right arm, the hand on my leg which rests over Tiger’s hip beneath the silk sheets of our Bonded bed rubs up and down. “Fuck, that sounds amazing.”

The corner of my mouth lifts.

Love pours from him heavily as he carefully leans over Tiger so as not to wake him, and there is nothing within me that revolts at the emotion as his mouth slants over mine, his hand coming up to cup the back of my neck. Joseph tainted my previous understanding of it, but it is not so skewed anymore. He does not have any control over me, and any lingering mental chains have been torn apart over the weeks. Any ties to him are gone. I am not his creation; I am my own. I am no longer the little girl who cannot escape a weak man’s twisted desires. I no longer have his Avri in my face, only Cooper’s harmless energy. I no longer have a last name, as I refuse to keep going by his, and I would not choose any one of my Bonds’ over another. I am simply Ezla, empress of a region I have made a better place for the men who taught me what real love is. And I am happy.