Tragic Bonds (The Bonds that Tie Book 5)

I wake to the booming sound of someone’s shoulder hitting a door.

I’m disoriented, dehydrated, and a little dizzy as I blink open my eyes, the grainy feeling of them like sandpaper. The room spins around me, and it takes me a second to realize that the ceiling hasn’t been painted here yet. I’m definitely no longer in my own bed.

I only have to inhale to recognize Nox’s scent covering everything.

I’ve always wondered what part of being Gifted has made me so sensitive to the scents of my Bonded Group, because I haven’t really noticed any of my friends acting this way around their Bonds. Sage doesn’t cover herself in Kieran and Felix’s clothes like a little hoarder. Even while she was still nesting, she was reasonable about shit, not at all a psycho about demanding to sleep in their beds and steal their clothes.

The next booming thump on the door startles me out of my existential crisis.

Try as I might, I can’t find the energy to get out of the bed.

Rolling onto my side is hard enough, and I let out a terrible groaning sound, something a dying manatee might make, and when I meet Nox’s eyes, he raises his eyebrows at me in a very sarcastic and unwelcome way.

I brought him back from the dead, dammit. I’m allowed to feel like shit after that amount of work!

“They’re here to rescue you from me.”

Right.

Now isn’t the time for dramatics because, well, shit is already dramatic enough.

I swallow, my throat still drier than the Sahara, and nod slowly. “Do I… need to be rescued? I can just leave if you don’t want me here.”

Fuck, how did I even get in here in the first place? Why would Gryphon and North put me in Nox’s bed with him and then leave us alone while we were both unconscious?! That feels like a bad idea no matter what the circumstances are. Unless my bond came out and told them to, but I can feel it still sleeping away inside of my chest, peaceful but drained.

Nox stares at me for a second, his eyes so dark that I think for a second that maybe his bond has come out, and then he says slowly and oh-so-carefully, “If I didn’t want you here, I wouldn’t have brought you with me.”

Well.

That makes a whole lot of sense while also making none whatsoever.

I finally heave myself into a sitting position to find Nox sitting on the floor in front of the door as though he’s bracing it.

His shadow creatures are everywhere.

Rahab, Mephis, and, of course, my precious Azrael. He still looks more like a Brutus to me, but when he pads over to bump his nose against my chin in a very affectionate greeting, I suddenly can’t imagine calling him anything but Azrael. Things are different now.

I know all of their real names.

The names given to them by that little boy with a dark halo of curls around his head who sat far too still when there were adults around. The boy who used the library of that dilapidated house as his only escape, reading whatever books he could get his hands on to keep his mind busy and away from the abuse he faced when his mother came calling.

No wonder the names of avenging angels called to him.

Azrael bumps my chin again, and I bury my face into the soft wisps of his shadowy fur, my tears falling straight through his body as though there’s nothing solid that I’m leaning into even though I can feel the warmth of him against my face.

“If you don’t open this fucking door, I will take the whole fucking wall down, Draven! This is your last warning.”

Oh shit.

Atlas really does sound as though he’s going to start with the demolition, and I tear my face away from Azrael to shoot a look at Nox.

He’s back to staring at the ceiling as though this is all so boring to him and not at all troubling that his life and the integrity of this room are being threatened. I groan a little more as I move to the edge of the bed, trying to lever myself up and into action, and he looks over at me.

Keeping eye contact with me, he calls out to Atlas to egg him on like a complete asshole. “Gabe will be furious if he has to fix your mess, Bassinger. You might want to rethink that plan of yours.”

Oh my freaking God, that is not helpful.

My brain feels as though it’s going to explode, but I reach out to the rest of my Bonded Group, casting out my bond to feel them all and speak to them all at once. Gryphon, Gabe, and Atlas are all at the door, but North is in the kitchen with a bottle of bourbon, no glass.

That’s deeply troubling.

I’m fine. Please don’t take out a wall, because I’m not in any danger.

The relief from them all is overwhelming, and when it floods through the mind-connection to me, I groan again and clutch at my head. Whatever I’d had to do to get Nox’s soul back into his body, it has messed me the hell up. My Gift feels exhausted inside of me, my bond is still sleeping, and every inch of my body feels heavy and achy.

If anyone attacks the Sanctuary right now, we’re screwed.

Nox’s eyes are still bright on mine and he nods at me, already completely aware of this fact, and his shoulder bracing the door suddenly becomes just a little bit more sweet.

He’s guarding us both right now.

North needs to sober up; we’re exposed right now.

I hate thinking it. I hate that it even crosses my mind, because he’s always the responsible one for us. Clearly watching his brother die in front of him has rocked him, but the fact of the matter is that we’re being targeted, hunted, and our Bond Group is already two Gifted down.

We can’t afford to lose a third to inner demons.

I’ve already spoken to him, there’s no getting through to him right now. I’ve… never seen him like this.

Nox speaks directly to me, keeping the others out of this because it feels like something within the family to deal with. The family I’m very much a part of now, in Nox’s mind, and though I get the feeling he’d allow Gryphon to help him with North, there’s no way he’d open up to Gabe and Atlas about this.

Progress, not perfection, I guess.

Oli, come back to your room where we can all be with you and know you’re okay.

I feel a pang of guilt at Gryphon’s words, but I also don’t want to do that. I’m absolutely sure of where I stand with each of them, even North in his spiraling freak-out. It’s Nox that I need to be with right now, it’s with him that I need to find stable ground.

It’s him that I need to be with.

I’m staying here tonight. We’ll come out tomorrow and debrief.

I feel Gryphon hesitate, but he accepts it. Gabe is the same, happy enough to hear my voice and let me do whatever I need to do.

Atlas does not want to leave me here.

In fact, he raises a fist like he’s going to get to work tearing the wall down, and I have to take a calming breath to not get angry about it. The last… however many hours this has been going on have obviously been hard on them all.

I work at keeping my voice level and calm. Am I not allowed to make my own decisions about MY Bonded?

There’s a very uneasy sort of silence in my head back to that, and I glance back over at Nox to see something wondrous and magical.

He smiles at me.

An actual smile stretches over his lips without a hint of sarcasm or derision. He just enjoys the hell out of me calling my other Bonded out on his hypocritical actions.

You are, but I’m not sure you’re thinking straight right now, Sweetness.

I huff at the sound of Atlas fussing over me and stretch back against the pillows. I’m a big girl; I can get up and walk out of here the moment I choose to. Now, leave me alone for a bit so I can sleep. I feel as though I was hit by a bus.

It takes them a minute, but eventually, they all move away. Gabe and Atlas both head back into my room to sleep, each of them grabbing one of my pillows and surrounding themselves in my scent just like I do with theirs. Gryphon, though, heads to the kitchen to sit with North in silence, watching over him as he gets royally wasted.

Please don’t do anything dumb while I’m sleeping. I need you whole and happy, Bonded.

He doesn’t answer me except to send through a snapshot of what he’s feeling. Regret, devastation, and a lot of pain at the thought of losing Nox and I. I think that’s all he’s capable of saying to me in his current state, and even though I’m desperate to go to him, I know there’s nothing I can do for him right now.

Tomorrow I’ll be with him again, hold him until he’s reassured that I’m not going anywhere. That, and I’ll have to try to talk Nox into spending the day with him as well, for long enough that he remembers how much his little brother can get on his nerves.

“I don’t, though. He’s never once gotten pissed off at me.”

“Not even when I showed up?” I say with a smile, trying to delicately start the conversation we so desperately need to have, but his face stays solemn.

“Not even then. He just sunk deeper into his loathing for his aunt… my mother.”

Ah.

The woman who has always stood between the two of us, invisible to me but so clear to him. I find that I might join North in that loathing, because that woman deserves to be cursed by every last one of us, every day until the end of time.

“You saw everything.”

Deep breath. There’s no point trying to lie to him. “I did.”

The room is so quiet that I can hear the very slow and controlled way that he’s breathing, the way that he’s forcing himself to stay calm. I already know that if he loses control right now, he’s going to lash out at me, and he’s trying not to. Funny, now that I understand it more than ever, he’s finally trying to break the habit, but that just makes my heart ache even more.

“Why aren’t you looking at me any differently?”

I swallow and shrug slowly, carefully thought-out movements so as to not ruin this moment. “Why would I? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

His head rolls on his shoulders until he’s staring at the ceiling, avoiding my eyes, even though there’s nothing in them for him to be worried about. “The shadows could have killed her. They could’ve killed her years before North came for me. I… never did protect myself like I could’ve.”

I hate that he thinks like that, and I can’t stop my words from coming out soaked in sorrow and sympathy. “You were a child.”

His words are like ice. “So were you.”

The air gets knocked out of my lungs. Knocked out in that permanent, I’ll-never-breathe-again sort of way where I think that I’m actually dying.

I could’ve handled just about any answer, except that one.

My vision blacks out a little as I attempt and fail to get oxygen into my body, until I feel hands on my cheeks, long fingers framing my face as a low voice speaks to me softly. The bed moves next to me as a large body lies down beside me, but even with my eyes open, I can’t see who’s attempting to soothe me.

I assume that it’s North, finally here to rescue me, that finally Nox’s brother, the man who knows almost all of his secrets, has decided to put an end to this, and he’s taken down the door to get to me because my panic has broken down his restraint.

Except it’s not North.

Nox murmurs quietly, nonsense things that don’t really string together to form proper sentences but slowly, painfully, begin to calm me down anyway.

A shuddering breath ekes out of me, and he presses in closer, still not quite touching me other than the hands framing my face. It all feels deeply intimate though, the way that we’re sharing our breaths and staring into each other’s eyes so openly. There’s nothing hidden between us, our souls have been stripped bare to each other, and I have no questions left about this man.

Every broken and scarred inch of him is known to me.

And I love it all.

Even when he tries so hard to break me open just to soothe the demons in his head and the parts of him that could never trust a Bonded, not ever.

His eyes drop down to the tears still streaming down my cheeks unchecked, but he doesn’t move to wipe them away. He’s not afraid of seeing the raw emotions. If anything, it’s comforting to him to see the way he’s unintentionally hurt me.

To know that I have the capacity for remorse and guilt is comforting.

He’s arguably more messed up than I am… or maybe not, because knowing this about him isn’t a red flag at all. It’s a sign that he’s just as jaded as I am. There’s no rose-colored glasses skewing his view of things, and he would never let someone take advantage of him again.

I’ve already forgiven him, even as my chest aches so badly that every breath burns as though my lungs are on fire. It takes me a minute to get myself under control, but Nox’s fingers don’t stop stroking my face, his lips still move with the low, comforting murmurs. He stays with me until I can breathe again.

When he does finally explain himself, it’s in fractured pieces that are strung together haphazardly. “I didn’t… mean it like that. I meant that you protected yourself. You were young, but you did it. I… didn’t.”

Tears spring into my eyes, the trauma of what he went through still so fresh in my mind, and I’m careful about moving slowly as I cover his hands with my own. “She was all you knew. You had no one else, not that you knew of, and you would have died in that house without her. I murdered my parents. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t mean to… that’s exactly what I did.”

I stop talking because every word feels as though it’s a razor blade, slicing me up and bleeding me out as they tumble out of my mouth. Nox doesn’t push for more, he just stares at me for a second longer, then slides his hands away from my face, breaking that small connection between us as he rolls onto his back beside me. “I’ll take it to my grave, Oleander.”

It’s an oath I can trust, one that I don’t feel the need to say back to him, because of course I would never breathe a word of any of his past. The thought of betraying his trust like that, a trust he’s been forced to give me thanks to his death and our soul-bonding, leaves me feeling sick to my stomach.

I also know that it would make my bond feel nothing but bloodlust and violence, all of its most dangerous feelings.

We fall into a charged sort of silence, one where we’re both clearly stuck in our own heads, dealing with all of the information and trauma we’ve been forced to delve into and dredge up from the deepest, darkest hiding places within ourselves. The longer the silence goes on, the more uncomfortable I get. Nox doesn’t make a move, and his face gives away nothing, but the guilt of what I did to my parents has rattled me. I want to climb out of my own skin the longer the silence stretches out between us both.

When I can’t take it any longer, I blurt out, “Should I leave?”

Nox lets his eyes fall shut, his head dropping back against the pillows. “Do whatever you want.”

It’s a very nice way of letting me off of the hook, and I don’t deserve such kindness. Instead of taking the pass, I poke at him a little more. “What’s changed? What did you see in the soul-bond that changed… all of this for you? Or are we going to walk out of this room tomorrow and forget that all of this ever happened, go back to you hating me for ever existing?”

He lies there with his eyes shut, his face turned up towards the ceiling as though he’s praying to some god of his own design, without speaking for so long that I assume he’s never going to answer me. I let myself snuggle back into my own pillows, telling myself that I’ll get up and leave him alone in just a minute. Just a minute longer of enjoying this space with him before I leave him alone.

He shouldn’t have to put up with me like this.

“You saw every part of me, and I, you. I have no questions left, no unknowns. You can leave now if you want to, but don’t go for my sake because… I’d rather have you in here.”

Jesus.

Okay.

How many times am I going to force this man to tell me he wants me here before I believe him?

“Being Bonded to you isn’t… what I thought it would be. It messed with my head a lot, brought up things I didn’t want to have to deal with all over again, but the soul-bonding answered the questions that I wouldn’t— couldn’t— just ask you. I would’ve never believed you anyway, no matter what your answers were. That fact that we’re Bonded isn’t… the worst thing imaginable anymore.”

I nod slowly, my stomach curling, but not because of what he’s saying to me. He’s not being cruel or mean with what he’s telling me. This is honesty, pure and raw and terrible.

The more I think about it, the more I feel like puking, and I scrunch my nose up. The word ‘Bonded’ for the two of us is now poison in my mouth, acrid and bitter to the point that I want to go find my toothbrush to clean the taste away.

“I don’t want you to call me that word. I know you probably weren’t ever going to, but I need to say it. I’m fine with Oli or Oleander. ‘Poison’ is also fine—if that’s what you need.”

He shrugs. “I’m the poison. I’m the one who will seep into this group and destroy everything I touch. I told North that. He won’t listen, even now that he’s drinking himself into a grave because of me.”

It’s then that I see, more clearly than ever, that no matter how much Nox Draven has hated me in the past, no matter how much he might still resent me now even despite himself, that the person he hates the most is himself.