Page 9 of Shadowed Bond

“No, you just seem to get annoyed with everything extremely quickly,” she replies with a deadpan expression.

I frown. I hate that she’s actually right.

She simply holds my gaze for a few moments, then returns to her tablet.

This sure is going to be one long fucking mission.

The Road North

Charlotte

Ares Westwood drives like the road has personally offended him, just like the rest of the world seems to offend him.

He isn’t speeding, but there is a certain aggression in the way he handles the car. One hand on the wheel, changing lanes far too suddenly, broad shoulders tense, the infamous Westwood jaw set and brows knitted.

It’s obvious he’d rather be anywhere else but here, which, to be fair, so would I.

The Academy disappeared behind us over an hour ago, and since then, the car has been filled with the low hum of the engine and the occasional flicker of my tablet as I try to memorise the underground routes.

I tried to make conversation, but like any other conversation that involves Ares Westwood, it’s shut down.

His eyes remain on the road, and I finally close my tablet, confident in what I have memorised.

I’m about to reach for the stereo to put some music on when his stomach growls.

I look at him, raising an eyebrow.

He ignores me, and I begin fiddling with the radio channels.

“We’re stopping,” he says suddenly.

“Why?” I ask. The plan is to get there without being spotted, discreetly and swiftly.

“Food.”

His one-word answer is simple but final, as if it’s supposed to make me instantly agree.

“You should have eaten before coming. We had enough time.”

He shrugs. “I did, but I need a lot of fuel, so we’re stopping.”

“We are on a time-sensitive mission, remember?” I remind him, trying to hide my annoyance.

His eyes flick towards me briefly. “Too bad. I’m driving, so if I say we’re stopping, we’re stopping.”

I clench my jaw. “Right. Because I remember Leo putting you in charge,” I murmur sarcastically.

“I’m older than you,” he says dismissively, and my lips curl into a mocking smile. “Actually… I’m older.”

He frowns, pauses, then scoffs. “Who the fuck cares? I’m stronger.”

“Want to test that?” I ask, trying to stay calm, but with every passing second, the urge to kick his ass grows. Technically, he may be stronger as he’s favoured by a god, but I’m also a Solaris wolf; I am not weak.

“We could, if you’re ready to lose,” he remarks.

I press my lips into a tight line. I’m not going to argue with him; that only makes him more stubborn and arrogant, and I have no interest in giving him the satisfaction of winning anything against me.

A few minutes later, he turns into a service station. The petrol pumps are lit with white lights above them, and the rain is falling weakly. The service station is quite large and is brightly lit.