EPILOGUE #2
“Yes, well, you are quite the strong one.” He says this as if the fact amuses him as much as it pleases him, and a dangerous rumble builds in my chest as he keeps rubbing his filthy hand all over me.
“At any rate, my plan worked—you were a Bonded. But then”—his face changes, raging like a stormy sea in an instant, and his hand stills to dig thick fingers into me as if he wishes for them to pierce my Avri suit and slice through to skin and bone, encouraging a baring of teeth from me which goes ignored—“you trained them. I admit, I did not expect that. I was counting on you loathing them. I became jealous . . . lost track of my goal.”
“Which was?” I grind out, fists clenching at his tedious explanation.
“To have you win the Games, of course,” he drawls.
“Then I would take you away from the public eye once you were free. You could not disappear without reasoning, so you would win, and you would have your excuse. Then, I would relieve you of those Evots, and anyone would think twice about asking what happened to my grieving daughter. I would take you away, look after you and nurse you back to health. This was the best way considering you can only win if you are bonded.” A pause as he regards me like I am his favourite treasure.
One he likes to tarnish or polish based on his whims. “I was so sure you did not want to be claimed . . . But then I was not so certain as I watched you over the days, and I admit, my temper got the best of me. So I sent my Exots after your Bonds.”
As I watched you over the days.
I was right to be concerned about hidden cameras.
I tuck that information away for later.
“But then,” he seethes, face reddening, “you went and saved them! I only needed one to remain alive to ensure you still escaped the Games, but you saved the entire lot of pathetic weaklings!”
My eyes internally roll at his dramatics.
“Pity,” I deadpan, and he pins me with a mightily furious look, no doubt thinking up all sorts of exciting punishments for my insolence.
Continuing after a breath to regain his composure, Father’s lips then twist into a vile smirk, filled with a smug satisfaction.
“My jealousy only rivalled that of the shock of my realisation: you cared for these Evots.” His expression darkens again without warning.
“In a way you have never cared about me.”
“I wonder why—”
“Keep. Your. Mouth. Shut.”
My lips press together hard enough that I am sure they are snow white. I hate myself for conceding so easily simply due to the familiar tone of voice.
Sometimes, I purposely piss him off so badly that he hurts me enough to bring me to the brink of death. He never nudges me that final inch, but I know he would do so if I truly pushed him too far.
I have never figured out what the magic button is.
And now . . . now I have something I think I may want to live for, and I am not so sure I would like to know anymore.
“But then I thought . . . ‘how could this help me’, hm?” Father runs his hand through my hair in a way that feels nothing like my sensible Bond’s does, and a shiver of pure disgust creeps down my spine.
“How could I use this to my advantage? And then it hit me: leverage. The deeper you fell, the more leverage I would have over you. And if I have leverage, I can make you do whatever I want . . . be whatever I want.”
Everything stops, and my blood runs cold as my minds slots all the pieces of the puzzle into place.
I have been so stupidly blind, and the gravity of the situation is only now catching up to me.
With the cameras, of course he knew when I would visit these chambers, no matter how little I did so for the very reason that I suspected he would explode if he discovered what I was doing.
But he did not. Because he was playing smart, thinking about the bigger picture. And I . . .
I fell right into his trap.
It is humiliating. It incenses me.
It is devastating . . . some part of me whispers, but I shrug it off.
Feelings, I realise, are what got me here in the first place. They are that which brought me to such obliviousness. I would have noticed the Game Master’s motives the moment they were decided if it were not for those Evots.
And yet they still will not leave me. Not their scents, not their unique personalities and behaviour, and most notably not the effects they have on me. No matter how hard I try to be rid of them as that realisation hits.
What have they done to me?
Father knew I had been with my Bonded that day I first let one of them touch me.
A day I can never forget, cannot remove from memory.
This is why he did not punish me when I returned to the penthouse way past the time expected of me, why he was already asleep.
He did not want to discourage me from going back to them, from falling deeper—
But I have not fallen.
He is wrong.
Those Evots are mine in the way that I am possessive of them because I have decided they belong to me, because they make me feel good, have new and strange, yet mostly thrilling, effects on me, and give me what I deserve. Nothing else.
I cannot love.
I ignore the deceiving falter of my black heart when I think those facts and focus back on my father. “And you believe you have the leverage you wished for now?”
“I do.” He grins like a madman. “And now you will give me what I want.”
“Or w—”
“Or I will kill your Bonded with just a flick of my thumb.”
Everything sharpens.
“What?” I demand, forgetting to keep any damning emotions hidden and shrugging myself out of his hold in a flash, bolting to my feet.
His smile grows, and my heart sinks.
He did not even try to stop me.
As though he believes I am trapped either way.
I, too, feel bars closing in already, my mind scrolling at top speed— Before crashing to a halt on the only explanation I can rationalise, just as he reveals—