Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LEO
She was so fucking stubborn.
I watched her from across the living room, pretending to read a book while she sat curled in the corner of the couch, as far from the rest of us as physically possible.
Three days since Mason had held her through the bond-separation symptoms. Three days since her body had betrayed her and forced her to accept our touch.
She'd learned her lesson about avoiding contact entirely.
Now she allowed the minimum—a hand on her shoulder at meals, sitting close enough that our knees might brush.
Just enough to keep the symptoms at bay.
She was still fighting. Still resisting.
Still looking at us with those fierce green eyes like she was planning our murders.
God, I loved her.
"You're staring," Ethan said from beside me, not looking up from his tablet, his voice low enough that only I could hear, his green eyes fixed on whatever data held his attention.
"She's worth staring at," I replied, equally quiet, my gray eyes tracking every micro-expression that crossed her beautiful face.
"You're making her uncomfortable," Ethan observed, his tone clinical and matter-of-fact.
"Good," I said, a smile tugging at my lips. "Uncomfortable is better than numb."
Ava had been numb for too long. Going through the motions, following the rules, eating her meals and sleeping in her nest and allowing the bare minimum of physical contact. There was no fire in it. No spark. Just hollow compliance.
I missed her spark. I set down my book and stood, stretching deliberately, letting her see the movement. Her eyes flicked to me immediately, wary, watchful, before darting away. Through the bond, I felt her tension spike.
"I'm bored," I announced, my voice carrying across the room, loud enough for everyone to hear. Mason looked up from his laptop. Caleb, standing sentinel by the window as always, turned his ice-blue gaze toward me. "Let's play a game."
"A game," Ava repeated flatly, her voice dripping with disdain, her green eyes narrowing with suspicion.
"Yeah, a game. You know—fun? Entertainment? That thing people do when they're not sitting around glaring at each other?" I crossed the room toward her, watching her tense with every step I took. "Come on, Red. You used to love games."
"Don't call me that," Ava snapped, her jaw tightening, her hands clenching in her lap.
"What, Red? But it suits you," I said, dropping onto the couch beside her, not touching, but close enough that she could feel the heat of my body. "All that gorgeous hair. All that fire."
"I said don't call me that," Ava repeated, her voice hard as steel, her green eyes blazing with familiar fury.
There it was. There was the spark.
"Fine, fine. Ava, then," I conceded, holding up my hands in mock surrender, my gray eyes dancing with amusement. "Ava, would you like to play a game with me?"
"No," Ava refused immediately, the word sharp and final.
"You don't even know what game I'm suggesting," I pointed out, letting a hint of wounded feelings creep into my voice, my lower lip pushing out in an exaggerated pout.
"I don't care. The answer is no," Ava said, turning her face away from me, her red hair falling like a curtain between us.
"What if I said the winner gets a prize?" I offered, leaning closer, dropping my voice to something intimate and conspiratorial.
"I don't want anything you could give me," Ava replied coldly, her shoulders rigid with tension.
"Not even information?" I asked, watching her carefully, noting the way her breath caught, the slight hitch in her heartbeat that I could feel through the bond.
Slowly, she turned back to face me, her green eyes guarded but curious. "What kind of information?"
"Anything you want to know," I said, spreading my hands wide, my smile turning sharp. "Ask me any question, and I'll answer honestly. No evasions, no half-truths. Complete transparency."
"And if I lose?" Ava asked, her voice wary, her eyes searching my face for the trap she knew was there.
"Then you answer one of my questions," I replied simply, my gray eyes holding hers.
"Same rules. Complete honesty." Ava was silent for a long moment, clearly weighing her options.
Through the bond, I felt her mind working, calculating risks, considering possibilities.
She wanted information. Wanted to understand us, to find our weaknesses, to look for cracks she could exploit.
"What's the game?" Ava asked finally, her voice careful and measured.
"Two truths and a lie," I said, my smile widening, satisfaction purring through my chest. "I tell you three things about myself. You guess which one is the lie. If you're right, you win. If you're wrong, I win."
"That's not fair. You could say anything," Ava protested, her brow furrowing with suspicion. "I have no way of knowing what's true about you."
"You have the bond," I pointed out, tapping my chest where I could feel her presence humming alongside my own heartbeat. "Pay attention to what you feel. The bond doesn't lie, even when I do."
Ava's eyes widened slightly, something clicking behind them. I could practically see the gears turning, the realization that the bond could be a tool, not just a cage. That she could use it to read us, just like we used it to read her.
"One round," Ava agreed, her chin lifting with determination. "One round, and then I'm done."
"Deal," I said, extending my hand for her to shake. She stared at my hand for a long moment, her lip curling with distaste. She took it, a brief, firm grip that sent electricity crackling through my veins. God, even that tiny contact was enough to make my heart race.
"Okay," I said, settling back against the couch, arranging my features into something neutral.
"Here are my three statements. One: I was expelled from two different prep schools before I turned sixteen.
Two: I once broke a man's arm for looking at you too long.
Three: I've never been in love before you. "
Ava's eyes narrowed, studying my face with intense concentration.
I felt her reaching through the bond, tentatively probing, trying to sense the truth beneath my words.
I let her feel what I was feeling. The amusement.
The anticipation. The deep, abiding love that had lived in my chest for over a decade.
"The schools," Ava said finally, her voice uncertain. "That's the lie. You seem too... controlled to have been expelled."
I laughed, a genuine sound of delight. "Wrong. I was absolutely expelled from two prep schools. Fighting, mostly. I had anger issues as a teenager."
"Then which one is the lie?" Ava demanded, frustration bleeding into her voice, her hands clenching in her lap.
"The arm," I admitted, my smile turning sharp-edged and dark. "I didn't break his arm. I broke both his arms. And three of his ribs. And his jaw." I paused, letting the words land. "He touched your hair at a coffee shop when you were nineteen. You didn't even notice him. But I did."
Ava's face went pale, her green eyes widening with horror. "You—what?"
"He was a stranger. You were waiting for your order, reading something on your phone, and he walked up behind you and touched your hair," I continued, my voice calm and conversational despite the dark satisfaction coiling in my gut.
"Said something about how pretty it was.
You smiled politely and stepped away. Forgot about it five minutes later. "
"And you... you attacked him?" Ava breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, her hand drifting unconsciously toward her hair.
"Not right then. I followed him home first. Learned his name, his address, his habits," I explained, watching her face, drinking in every flicker of emotion. "Then I paid him a visit one night and explained, very thoroughly, why he should never touch what doesn't belong to him."
"I wasn't yours then," Ava said, her voice shaking with anger and something else—fear, maybe. Or fascination. "I didn't even know you were watching me."
"You've always been mine," I corrected gently, reaching out to tuck a strand of red hair behind her ear.
She flinched but didn't pull away. "You just didn't know it yet.
" Silence stretched between us. Through the bond, I felt her emotions churning, horror, confusion, and underneath it all, a reluctant flicker of something warmer.
Something that responded to the intensity of my devotion, even as her mind recoiled from it.
"That's insane," Ava finally said, her voice flat with shock. "You're insane."
"Probably," I agreed cheerfully, my gray eyes crinkling with genuine amusement. "But I'm also honest. Which is more than most people can say."
"You hurt someone. For touching my hair," Ava repeated, like she was trying to make the words make sense.
"I'd do worse for less," I said simply, my smile fading into something more serious. "I'd burn the world down if anyone tried to take you from us. I'd kill without hesitation, without remorse. You're everything, Ava. Everything."
"That's not love," Ava insisted, her voice rising with desperation. "That's obsession. That's possession."
"It's all three," I acknowledged, unfazed by her accusation. "Love and obsession and possession, all tangled together until you can't tell where one ends and the others begin. That's what you are to me. What you've always been."
Ava stared at me, her green eyes huge in her pale face. I could feel her heart racing through the bond, feel the conflict tearing her apart, the part of her that was terrified and the part of her that was drawn to the intensity like a moth to flame.
"I won," I reminded her softly, reaching out to take her hand. She let me, too stunned to resist. "That means you owe me a question."
"Fine," Ava said, her voice hollow with defeat. "Ask." I considered for a moment, turning her hand over in mine, tracing the lines of her palm with my fingertip. So many questions I could ask. So many secrets I wanted to uncover.
"When we were kids," I said finally, "you used to bring me books. Fantasy novels, adventure stories, anything you thought I'd like. You'd leave them outside my door with little notes tucked inside." I looked up, meeting her eyes. "Why did you stop?"
Something flickered across Ava's face, pain, maybe. Or grief. "I presented," she said quietly, her voice barely audible.
"And?" I pressed, my thumb still tracing circles on her palm.
"And everything changed," Ava continued, her green eyes growing distant with memory.
"You all looked at me differently after that.
Like I was... prey. Like you'd been waiting for it.
I realized that everything—the kindness, the attention, the way you made me feel special—it was all just.. . preparation….for this."
The word hung in the air between us.
"It wasn't just that," I said, choosing my words carefully. "We did care about you. We do care about you. We love you."
"That makes it worse," Ava whispered, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. "Don't you understand? That makes it so much worse. Because I loved you too. All of you. And then I found out it was all a lie."
"It wasn't a lie," I insisted, tightening my grip on her hand when she tried to pull away. "The love was real. Is real. The only thing that changed was that we finally had permission to show you how much."
"Permission from who?" Ava demanded, her voice cracking. "Not from me. Never from me."
"From biology," I replied quietly. "From fate. From whatever force in the universe decided that you were meant to be ours and we were meant to be yours."
"I don't believe in fate," Ava said bitterly, finally yanking her hand free from mine.
"You don't have to believe in it," I said, watching her retreat to the far corner of the couch, wrapping her arms around herself like armor.
"It believes in you." She didn't respond.
Just sat there, trembling slightly, staring at nothing.
Through the bond, I felt her grief and rage, her horror at what I'd revealed and her reluctant understanding of what it meant.
We weren't going to let her go. Ever. No matter what she did, no matter how hard she fought, no matter how much she hated us, we would never, ever let her go. Most people would find that terrifying.
I found it comforting.
"Same time tomorrow?" I asked, my playful tone returning, my smile sliding back into place like a mask. "I've got plenty more truths to share. And lies."
"Go to hell," Ava muttered, not looking at me, her voice thick with exhaustion.
"Only if you come with me," I replied, standing and stretching, my gray eyes never leaving her huddled form. "It wouldn't be hell without you, Red. Just boring eternity."
I walked away before she could respond, feeling her gaze burning into my back. Through the bond, I felt her hatred, bright and hot and beautiful. Underneath it, buried so deep she probably didn't even know it was there, I felt something else.
Curiosity.
She wanted to know more. Wanted to understand us. Wanted to find the cracks in our armor so she could exploit them. Little did she know, there were no cracks. We were solid. United. Bound together by our love for her and our absolute refusal to let her go.
I'd let her keep looking. Let her keep playing the game.
It was more fun that way.