Tragic Bonds (The Bonds That Tie #5)(44)

The possibility that my bond had done something to his when it’d demanded he shift into something bigger is terrifying to me. We already have three bonds with the potential to make their own personal brands of trouble. We can't really afford to have another. I can't stop thinking about the way that Gabe’s eyes had shifted to amber when we were together, and the way that his hands had changed from the consistent and desperate sort of touch to the branding demand.

I've been with North and his bond enough to know the shift between man and god.

What had happened with Gabe cut a little too close for comfort.

It's something I need to speak to Nox about. His research parameters need to be widened a little more because… well, he’s looking for ‘born’ gods.

What about ‘made’ gods?

All of this just brings up more questions. Where did the gods come from? And how were they made? Because if Gabe has been changed, then what's to stop it from happening again? What's to stop the Resistance finding out about it and finding a way to shift some of their own as well?

There's also the chance that they already know. They knew enough to have the breeding programs that have been going on for generations now, at least two, because the Dravens’ had been messed with, and there is the potential that Atlas’ parents had been selected rather than found with the blood tests.

The fact that the Bassingers just went along with the Resistance’s plan of abandoning who they were supposed to Bond with and ‘selectively breeding’ astounds me. The idea of building a life with someone who wasn't part of my Bonded Group makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I’d literally rather die.

When the elevator doors finally open up to the office, I find it dark, only the glow of North's television illuminating the room. It's playing the news, a non-Gifted woman is talking, though the sound has been muted. She’s standing in front of a grocery store that has been torn in half by either a hurricane or a very powerful Gifted. I know what my money is on.

There’s papers and boxes of files strewn everywhere, piles of books next to the couch that Nox usually sleeps on, and the clutter of a man refusing to leave everywhere.

I carefully make my way over to the desk where North is sleeping, his head slumped down onto the flat surface, and I’m grateful to see August sitting at his side.

At least he hasn't been alone here.

There's also a part of me that feels relief that he is finally trusting his shadows enough to have them watch over him while he gets some rest. I know that only a few short weeks ago, North wouldn't even trust them in my presence while he was awake. Me, his Bonded, who tamed all of the shadow creatures the moment I’d laid eyes on them.

Even Nox’s snarling, savagely perfect pups had loved me right away.

I stroke a hand over August's head and let him give me a quick sniff as he checks in with me, his bottomless eyes shining at me like a thousand stars in the inky black void. It's impossible to describe what the shadow creatures really look like or how they shine when every part of them is blackness, but they do, and they’re even brighter for me.

I press my face against his and coo at him affectionately until some of the tension leaves his body. He knows that I'm here to help North however I can, that finally the distance that he’s demanded between us is going to be bridged.

However I can possibly make that happen.

I move aside some of the papers on the desk and then slowly ease myself up onto it, careful not to disturb North until I can wrap myself around him a little more securely. It would be much easier if he’d have gone to sleep on the sofa. I could have just crawled up there with him, but, as always, he is determined to work himself to death. Quite literally, right now.

I stroke my hands down his back, feeling the tension in his muscles that isn’t just from holding this position. He doesn't immediately wake, but his body knows mine as surely as I know his, and he leans into me, breathing in deeply as he slowly awakens.

“What are you doing here, Bonded?” he murmurs, his voice a little broken and dry. When he lifts his head, his eyes are bloodshot with exhaustion and probably a little bit of a hangover too.

I scowl at him and mumble back quietly, “No more drinking.”

I don't mention the theory that Nox and I share about now being the perfect time for the Resistance to come after us, especially if North is down for the count. I also don't mention that it breaks my heart to see him this way, but this man always did know the innermost workings of my mind, even long before we had Bonded, and he groans as his forehead hits my thigh.

He’s slumped over once more and looking miserable. The words that tumble out of his mouth sound as though they’re being torn directly from the darkest depths of his heart. “Feeling your soul leave your body was the most painful thing I have ever felt, and I didn't think that was possible after I just watched Nox die.”

It’s hard for him to talk like this, even though he's refusing to meet my eye, so I bury both of my hands into the silky locks of his hair, massaging his skull until he groans again, this time in the sort of pleasure that borders on pain.

He’s done so much for us all, he deserves better than this. Better than anything I could ever give him, but I try anyway.

“I’m not going to apologize for saving him, the same way I'm not going to apologize for saving you if it comes to it. We're all getting out of this alive, North, no matter what it costs me. I’d give my life for my Bonded without hesitation.”