Blood Bonds(The Bonds That Tie #3)(96)
The man should trust me a little more.
Oli, who is with you right now? Don’t say anything out loud or react, you need to be discreet.
I fight to keep a scowl off of my face at Gryphon chiming in. I still don’t fully understand how this mind-talking thing works, and the fact that they both talk over each other makes me sure that they’re both hearing each other.
Atlas glances over to me and that confirms it, they’re all in my head right now, talking to me, but at each other as well.
I glance up to where Kieran is holding Sage, petting at her hair and murmuring to her quietly about the blood he’s covered in. She doesn’t actually seem phased by it at all, she’s more worried about getting as close to him as she can get, and my heart does a little tug at my own Bonded.
I’m in the medical center, exactly where North told me to be. I have Gabe and Atlas with me. Kieran, Sage, and Felix are too. I’m safe.
There’s a pause and my stomach begins to churn. It’s only Gryphon’s warning to stay discreet that keeps me in my seat. If I’m being watched somehow, like a hacker in the security system, then I can’t just run out of here like my ass is on fire.
But what if one of my Bonds has been hurt?
Would I know? I’d have to, right?!
Tell me now. Whatever it is, tell me now.
I send it to both of them and I attempt to sound firm, but I’m not sure how well that translates to them when I’m met with silence.
I could scream.
“What’s wrong? Your heart rate just hit the roof,” Felix murmurs, obviously trying not to startle me in my entirely freaked out state.
I swallow roughly as I try to figure out how to warn him that something is going on without speaking about it, in case the room is bugged. It’s impossible. There’s no way without Gryphon’s Neuro ability to do it. So I just sit there and wait, trying not to lose my shit.
Then Gryphon sends me through a perfect image.
I don’t know how the hell he does it, it almost killed me to send North the image of the shadow pups, and yet Gryphon is sending me through a series of images that play in my head like a film reel.
My palms break out in a sweat.
I can handle a lot of things.
So I already know how much bullshit I can survive.
Seeing Sage slit our first Shield, Dara’s, throat and then opening the gates to the Resistance, might not be one of them.
Also by J Bree
The Mounts Bay Saga
The Mounts Bay Saga
The Butcher of the Bay: Part I
The Butcher of the Bay: Part II
* * *
Hannaford Prep
Just Drop Out: Hannaford Prep Year One
Make Your Move: Hannaford Prep Year Two
Play the Game: Hannaford Prep Year Three
To the End: Hannaford Prep Year Four
Hannaford Prep: The Complete Series
Make My Move: Alternate POV of Year Two
* * *
The Queen Crow Trilogy
All Hail
The Ruthless
Queen Crow
The Sins of Our Fathers
Vanth Falling Vol I
* * *
The Unseen MC
Angel Unseen
The Bonds that Tie
Broken Bonds
Savage Bonds
Blood Bonds
Forced Bonds
About the Author
J Bree is a dreamer, writer, mother, farmer, and cat-wrangler. The order of priorities changes daily.
She lives on a small farm in a tiny rural town in Australia that no one has ever heard of. She spends her days dreaming about all of her book boyfriends, listening to her partner moan about how the wine grapes are growing, and being a snack bitch to her two kids.
For updates about upcoming releases, please visit her website at http://www.jbreeauthor.com, and sign up for the newsletter or join her group on Facebook at #mountygirlforlife: A J Bree Reading Group
CONTINUE READING FOR AN EXCERPT FROM
Just Drop Out:
Hannaford Prep Year One
* * *
Available now on Kindle Unlimited
Prologue
The forest at the edge of the Mounts Bay, California, city limits are well known for being haunted.
The kids at the local high school have spent generations whispering about the bodies buried in shallow graves, waiting for the wolves to scent them and dig them up for food. There’s even more legends about the souls that walk amongst the towering redwoods. It’s quiet, not silent, but compared to the ever-present sounds of traffic and human experience, it’s eerie and adds to the haunted feel.
While I don’t believe in ghosts, I can feel the souls that linger here.
It’s probably just my guilty conscious giving me the heebie-jeebies as I look over the corpse of my opponent. His blood is still fresh on my hands, cold and congealed, and I wipe them uselessly down my jeans. My clothes are just as stained as my hands, even my face is spattered with the red stains of his life ending. I look like something out of a horror movie, which is about right considering I’ve just bashed a man’s skull in with a rock while a whole crowd of people looked on in sick fascination. There isn’t a person watching that dares to make a noise. The vise-like grip of the Club holds their tongues.