Tragic Bonds (The Bonds That Tie #5)(67)

There’s a tension in the silence that wasn’t there before, every man and woman at the table stewing in the notice North just put them on.

Jeremy casts a look down the table at the General before he addresses the group. “The Resistance are taking hundreds of Gifted a day. I don't know whether they chose to amp things up because they’re ready to or whether they're becoming desperate, but that's the reality of what life outside of this place is like. I suggest you all think about that before you start throwing around accusations baselessly.”

Hundreds a day.

I feel sick to my stomach, and there's a small trickle of guilt in me that we're not doing more for everyone. I have to remind myself that we're planning to go back to the Wastelands again to wipe out more of our enemy in the coming days.

“The best way to keep people safe is to get rid of the enemy entirely, and we’ve moved from the defensive position that we have been in for years, decades, at this point, to now taking the fight to the Resistance. We will be heading back to the Alaskan Wasteland in the coming days.”

Alaskan Wasteland. I can't wait to be tits-deep in snow while fighting for my life; the Resistance sure knows how to pick a great place for a fight. I wonder whether they have snow leopard shifters or something running that division, because I can't think of many Gifted who would be able to use the snow as an advantage. I also wonder if Sage can set people on fire if they're surrounded by snow. An important question for my bestie, but it would be incredibly rude to pull my phone out right now while North is talking, so it'll have to wait.

“Is the Alaskan Wasteland the best use of our resources? Could we not go after the smaller Wastelands and shut them down before moving to the larger one?” one of the council members asks.

I have no idea who she is, but she doesn't seem to be asking in an antagonistic way. Her face is open and clear, and the men who sit on either side of her watch North carefully, clearly interested in his answer.

Surprisingly, Gryphon is the one who speaks up. “The Alaskan Wasteland is going to be very difficult to win and shut down because of where it is and the size of it. The strongest of their Shields, the one not being utilized at the camps, is currently manning it. If we leave it till last, there's the potential that we will never get it shut down. Newer and less experienced recruits could potentially deal with the smaller camps, and we're hoping to be able to utilize those resources there.”

‘We're throwing everything we have at the Alaskan shithole’ would be the translation of his words, but I try to look confident from where I'm sitting. This entire meeting is becoming a test of my patience and how far I can be pushed before I lose my shit.

I’m proud of how far I’m making it.

“Couldn't your Bonded walk in and empty them for us?” one of the men says, though his voice is very careful.

He's obviously trying to convey a respectful sort of questioning, but Nox leans forward in his chair anyway.

“Maybe we should just send your Bonded in. It’d be the most that she's done since getting the seat from her useless mother,” he mutters under his breath, though loud enough that the entire table hears it, and I have to bite my lip at the scandalized looks on their faces.

I'm not sure what they were expecting from Nox, but clearly they haven't interacted with him enough to know that you don't poke him without catching the brunt of his acidic tongue.

“What about the camps? Why are we focusing on the Wastelands when there are still camps full of prisoners that we could be focusing our efforts on?” Councilman Hannity says, his fingers fidgeting nervously in front of him as he deflects away from Nox’s quiet outburst.

I’m not sure if he is moving the attention away from Nox as a favor to North or whether he is just naturally opposed to conflict, but he looks nervous as he practically squirms in his seat. His eyes keep darting across to North—it’s as though he is an excitable puppy looking for approval.

I have to bite my lip from smiling at that image in my head as well, just as clear as the last.

“The largest camp was dismantled by Shore and his TacTeam on their way in,” North says, and it takes me a second to realize that he means the General and not Gryphon.

Hannity looks shocked. “I had no idea that that had taken place, but I'm glad to hear it. How many survivors were brought in?”

A muscle on North's cheek flicks as he grinds his teeth. “Eleven.”

“Eleven people?” The words shoot out of my mouth before I have the chance to bite them back, and the General shoots me a filthy look.

The one that North gives me is a lot softer, something that almost feels too private to be happening in this room, but he can feel the way my stomach has given way. “Yes, Bonded. Eleven people.”

My mind is empty for another second of shock, but then the information really soaks in. The rage I am flooded with is so consuming that my bond wakes up inside of me and a ripple flows through my Bonded Group and the entire room as it does. The General has not been around my bond, so he has no idea of the danger that he's in as I peg him with a look of my own.

How dare he come in here with accusations about Gryphon, his own goddamned son.

“You walked into the biggest camp of the Resistance, shut it down, and only brought out eleven prisoners?”

The General doesn’t even bother to look sheepish about it. “Everybody knows that you don't bring back survivors from the camps. Most of the people in there are already broken shells. The people we got out were hard fought for.” He says it all as though I'm supposed to be congratulating him. Here I was, thinking that I couldn’t find much else to hate the man for. Boy, was I wrong.