Page 62 of Lost and Bound

Bugby returns to sit with me on the floor. I draw my knees up and hug my arms around them, which gives him a place to roost. He faces me and tips his head, and I swear I see in his golden-colored eyes a world of camaraderie where my pain is his, and our future isn’t controlled by others.

The other four are talking among themselves, and I tune out what they’re saying while I assess the situation. God knows why everyone is in my room. It’s only when I flick through my foggy recollection of what happened yesterday—before Arlan reminded me not to trust anyone here—that I remember they use this room as their ‘safe room’.

It seems odd that they need such a space, considering all the gossip surrounding them being at the very top of the food chain, but it’s on point for Cane being an Alpha. I look over at the demon, who is apparently part of their group, and I guess I see the reason they need a place like this. His jet-black hair is swept back off his face, and it highlights both his extraordinary looks and how pale he is. His coloring isn’t from staying out of the sun; it comes from dealing with pain so vicious it consumes you. He looks like I did in the months following the car crash.

I don’t pretend I wasn’t watching him when his eyes move away from Cane. Since I’m already shocked to the core, I don’t visibly react in the slightest when I see only swirling pools of darkness where his eyes should be. Something in my chest twinges, aches almost, but I shove that in the too hard basket, along with everything else I need to unpack when I’m alone. He stares at me like he’s expecting me to scream or something, so I keep watching him.

But I definitely react when his eyes change. I can’t help but gape in wonder as the black melts away, leaving behind the most luxurious deep brown eyes ever. Of course, he ruins the wonder of the moment with a scowl that deepens the longer we stare at each other. It’s pretty clear he’s one of those others with a disparaging view of Noms. The negative energy rolling off him is sharp and cutting, stealing the beauty and reminding me of my crappy situation.

“Professor Cane, I think it’s painfully obvious that I shouldn’t be here.”

My sudden interruption means the other three stop their chatter and turn toward me. A mix of expressions stare back, but I don’t let them sway my confidence; if anything, I use it to bolster myself as I look into Cane’s eyes. Like, really look into his eyes. The effort to hold his gaze is immense. Almost as big as the fight I have inside.

Being in the sights of a shifter is scary, but intentionally putting yourself in the path of an Alpha adds another level to our interaction. It feels like a truck is slamming into my defenses, trying to wrench me into submission, but I’m well and truly past that point.

“You all might truly believe you are the dominant beings here, perhaps you are, but it’s irrelevant in a lot of ways. I don’t feel safe, Professor Cane. I’m sure in the endless rules and regulations Thales has regarding Noms, there’s nowhere for me to turn, so I’m appealing to you, as the Alpha. The issue is consent. Or is that exclusively a human concept?”

I can literally feel the moment he absorbs my words, and the room shrinks. Yet my fear is warranted. They might not agree with what I’m saying, but at the same time, given the apparent bond they share where they’d protect each other without thought, I’m banking on them having personal experience with the concept of consent.

Cane doesn’t relent his position of control, staring at me with the same force as before. But I see him accept what I’m saying too, begrudgingly of course, because apparently you can’t call out assholes for being assholes.

“Don’t get cocky, Maya, thinking you’re in any position to negotiate. You are a Nom, and as Arlan rightfully pointed out, your designation defines your role in our society.”

I roll my eyes. “How strange, while you are telling me that, others at Thales are saying I shouldn’t let it define me. Talk about mixed messages. I wonder if they’re the issue, or if it’s you and your friends.”

“That’s enough,” he growls in warning.

I bite my lip, hiding the smile that threatens. And yeah, it’s a triumphant, gloating smile, and well-deserved. “Of course, Professor.”

I stand up, refusing to be looked down upon, and take a seat at my desk. It keeps us all on a similar level, although the demon stays sprawled out on the makeshift bed.

“Let’s get the interrogation done so I can get some rest without all the noise.” He speaks with his eyes shut, leaning his head against the wall. He looks ruined, and his voice doesn’t hide how tired he is.

Bugby squawks like a foghorn and doesn’t stop until Bael opens his eyes. They stare each other down, and there’s definitely no love lost between them.

Arlan laughs. “Reminds you too much of home?”

“Something like that.”

Emrys’ purple energy pulses. “Is the bird one of yours?”

“I asked B the same thing.” Arlan laughs.

Emrys shrugs. “And clearly I missed Bael’s answer when you did. But I’m going out on a limb… see what I did there.” He grins quickly before continuing. “I’m thinking not because, as a rule, you generally don’t let your relatives live this long.”

“Not one of mine. To be honest, I can’t get a read on him to know who he belongs to.”

“He doesn’t belong to anyone,” I insist.

“No, Nom,” Arlan answers as he swivels his head unnaturally fast to face me, “that’s where you’re wrong. Everything in our world belongs to someone.”

“I claim him as mine, then. In the same breath, I want it known he’s free to do whatever he pleases. His life is his, and his alone.”

Emrys throws his hand up. “Every time you open your mouth, I ask myself the same question—how the fuck are you still alive?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Cane barks, adding a lot more dominance this time.

I guess I’m past the point of giving a shit, and I can’t help but laugh under my breath that they got told off by the big bad.