18 #2
I’ve slept with a couple girls in the past, but nothing more than that, and admittedly only to try and combat the loneliness I felt when I had to wait three years to be reunited with Tiger again in third school.
Unfortunately, it didn’t do anything but make me feel even more alone, especially because I just didn’t find it that enjoyable when I didn’t feel anything for either girl.
It was clear I couldn’t and wouldn’t be the kind of guy who sleeps around, so I’ve not been with anyone since and left it at that, honestly not thinking much of it.
But now . . .
I watch Ezla’s every move, her toned body gliding through the air with a vicious grace, those curved Avri daggers she favours relentlessly decapitating the orange men that just keep coming and coming at her while she shows no signs of tiring or slowing down.
Throwing stars come at her from three different directions, and the stiffening of my spine is unwarranted as she launches herself high, twisting mid-air at an almost horizontal angle to have each and every one of them missing her by inches as they slice through the air where a limb was only moments ago.
Gods . . .
My heart gives a hefty thump, and my throat goes dry.
Stunning.
Evidently, Tate thinks so, too, because he adjusts himself so obviously that it momentarily yanks my attention to him beside me.
“Fuck me,” he groans. “Look at her go. I just wanna bend her over, tear open her suit, and lick her greedy little cunt—”
“Bloody hell, man. Do you have no shame?” Cooper cuts him off, face scrunched up.
“No,” he snaps without taking his eyes off Ezla. “And stop looking at my girl.”
My eyes roll so hard they take a trip to the back of my brain, but I refrain from pointing out that she’s technically not even his, no more than she was before Game 1, despite the Bonded status.
“But she’s really hot. And impressive as fuck. Scotty, we gotta woo her— AHHH! brOTHER, SAVE ME!”
Cursing, I jump on Tate, struggling to tear him off my brother when he’s got a good bit of muscle on me, even though I’m by no means lacking in that department from my years of training.
“Oh gods!” Alby yelps, eyes huge and his hands waving about like he doesn’t know whether he could be any help and where to even begin to try to give it.
“A little help here?” I grit out through clenched teeth to the only other man available as I try my hardest to yank the fucking animal backwards to no avail.
Cooper scowls mightily but steps forwards, grabbing a hold of Tate’s neck with one hand and his thick bicep with the other. Then he tugs with enough strength that we all shift backwards . . . Tiger included.
Fuck’s sake.
“Let go, you rhinoceros!” my brother bellows.
Said rhinoceros roars, “She’s mine!”
This is exactly what I meant about Tate—he’s too fucking volatile when it comes to our Bonded.
Robotically modified, a throat clears.
I freeze along with the other four men, every muscle locking up tight.
Then, very slowly, I turn my head to the right.
Somehow, her helmet conveys the unimpressed look beneath.
Fuck.
We all scramble to stand up straight, and I catch Alby’s eye along the way, seeing the mortified look on his pale face.
Then Tate, the moron, takes a step towards her, eyes darkened with that crazed look of obsession. “Havoc, baby—”
The hand that had been reaching for Ezla is trapped in her unforgiving grasp in under a second, and before I can blink, Tate’s on his back with the dark crimson blade of an Avri dagger at his throat, the glow illuminating his helmet.
And still, he doesn’t heed the warning.
Eyes half-lidded, his free hand reaches for her ass as he thrusts his hips up right into where she straddles him.
The dagger moves from his throat to his wrist in a flash.
“Do not. Touch. Me.”
I swallow thickly as that low, lethal voice rolls over me. My body is tensed, prepared to intervene if things go even further south. But I’m acutely aware of the fact that I couldn’t stop my Bonded if she decided to slice Tate to pieces right now.
“I will slit your fucking wrists and dance in your blood as it spills from your severed veins.”
For once, Tate obeys, eyes widening a fraction as he recognises the promise in her words.
Although I suspect he’d let her kill him without argument and die happy if it weren’t for the fact it’d take him away from her considering the way there’s also even more hearts in those eyes after her threat.
“I’m your Bonded—you can’t kill me, Havoc.”
Her glinting, Avri-adorned helmet leans right into his face. “It would benefit you to know that I do not care for rules or expectations unless they suit my needs. I will gut you like a pig without hesitation if I see fit.”
Tate licks his lips like the threat tastes delicious, but he’s playing nice because he’s either enjoying himself too much to stop this or is possibly smart enough to know his life is currently on the line and could very well end with a flick of his obsession’s hand.
“And I will never, ever call you mine.”
His expression falters, and I almost feel bad for the guy as I catch the brief flicker of hurt and confusion in his grey stare.
Ezla shoves to her feet, then directs her next cold statement at all of us as a group. “You made a mistake in bonding me.”
Spinning on her heel, she strides out of the room without a backward glance.
None of us follow, but Tate’s features harden into what can only be described as a deadly determination.
He hasn’t been deterred at all. Quite the opposite.
And I’d advise him to proceed with caution here if it weren’t for the fact I think he wouldn’t at all mind being burned by Ezla’s scathing flames in his mission to make her his.