Broken Bonds (The Bonds that Tie, #1)

by J. Bree

What I did… running away from your Bonded, the people fated to be with you, that isn’t something that happens a lot. Or ever, really. Running away from the people that complete your soul, only a fucking crazy person would do that. I am that crazy person.

I definitely don't have an eight-pack. I have a little pouchy tummy that says I enjoy chocolate too much when I'm hormonal and let me tell you, I'm not ever giving it up for a flat stomach.

Gryphon is scowling and grumpy looking, the scar running through his eyebrow standing out even more. He looks exactly like his photo, right down to the frown.

Gabriel fusses with the coffee cup in his hands, just as nervous about this as I am, apparently. The smiling hottie is nowhere to be seen. I mean, he's still hot but he looks... miserable.

North, the Councilman and the reason for my GPS chip, sits there in his perfectly tailored suit. He's the only one who's trying to mask the loathing a little. He's failing at...

Nox just keeps staring at me like I'm the worst thing that has ever happened to him. And, fuck, maybe I am, but at least I won't be the worst thing to ever be unlea...

His eyes narrow at me in a glare and he mumbles, "Cold-hearted fucking bitch." Yeah, that's totally me. So cold that I ran away from the people fated to love me to try to stop the end of the freaking world as we know it. Total fucking bitch.

Of course I’d have to end up with Bonds who are super freaking hot and popular, pillars of our society and renowned for their acts of service. Of course I’m the villain.

Better to be hated and alive, better to be in pain than a murderer, better to be alone and safe.

He Shifted and ran here.

I’m left standing there in the locker room as it clears out, my hoodie clutched in my hands, as everything I thought I knew about these Bonds of mine is questioned.

He pulls me back into his chest so that I’m laying a little more on the bed, and then one of his hands splays out on my bare stomach underneath my thin nightshirt. His palm is warm but it becomes scalding hot as his power flows through his skin and into mine. The pain stops.

“Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. This pain is nothing compared to that.”

“The two of you better not start fucking on the table here in the dining hall because this all feels like really angry foreplay to me and, honestly, I just want to eat my pizza in peace.”

How do I tell him that the nightmares are horrible but the least of our problems? If only they were the worst thing I can do.