I desperately want to push it and ask him a million questions, pry into him and his reasoning for everything that he's ever done, but I also know that he is speaking civilly to me right now only because we're discussing work. While he might not trust me on any sort of a personal level, I might just have proved myself to him on an operative level, something that I am incredibly proud of myself for.
I didn't want any of them giving me leeway just because I was their Bonded. I want to be able to carry my own weight and be an asset to them, to be more than just the ability to kill people on a whim, and maybe, just maybe, I've done that.
“Unser will get through the torture.”
His eyes finally flick up to mine, the deep blue of them so much like North's, but so much colder than his brother’s have ever been.
I swallow in case I've pissed him off, but continue anyway. “It's hard to survive that sort of thing but, if he's strong enough to be in a TacTeam and to lead people, strong enough to be a Trigger and cope with taking that amount of lives at a time, then he's strong enough to push through the pain and get through it. If I can do it, then anyone can.”
Nox picks up his coffee cup again and drains the last of the black liquid inside of it. “I don't think there are many fourteen-year-olds who could survive that amount of pain. Some of that was your bond, yes, but it also took a certain amount of strength in you.”
Holy shit.
Was that a compliment?
That felt like a compliment.
I nod and duck my head, shoving a spoonful of omelet in my mouth before I say something stupid to him, and he gets back to the book in front of him, flipping the pages slowly.
I hear my bedroom door click open and hurried feet heading in our direction until I find a half naked North Draven standing there with wild eyes as he stares us both down as though he’s caught us doing something illicit.
I chew on my mouthful slowly before swallowing, waiting for him to say something, but he is too busy glaring at his brother.
What has he said to you? he sends directly through our mind link, and I get weirdly defensive about it.
Nothing. We’ve been talking about Unser. Nothing bad. I can be trusted with my own Bonded.
His eyes finally flick my way and he eases up a little bit. It's not about whether or not I trust you, Bonded. I was making sure that he was behaving himself.
He's not a child, and I've told you before that I can handle him. Either you trust me with that, or you don’t.
Nox flips another page and then says out loud but quietly, “He doesn't trust me. He won't ever trust me with you, and that's not something to blame him for, Bonded.”
Gryphon, North, and Nox all leave to go to the meeting with the TacTeams soon after my surprising conversation with Nox. I decide that maybe I can stomach some more food and make myself the fruit salad, carrying the bowl back to bed to climb up between Atlas and Gabe.
Neither of them have any motivation to get up, and I don't particularly blame them.
I have a couple of text messages from Sage and Sawyer, both of them having heard about Gabe shifting into a dragon and desperate for more details. I giggle over Sage's commentary and try not to get jealous or defensive at how much Sawyer wants to know about the anatomy of said dragon.
I will never get comfortable with how many details about my Bondeds’ dicks that boy wants.
By the time I finish up with my food, Atlas has gotten up and showered, dragging his feet in a way that I haven't seen out of him before, and he makes himself a protein shake before coming back to bed. He picks up a pillow from where it’s fallen onto the carpet and throws it at Gabe to get him moving.
He snarks at him, “If we're going to get dragged out again to go look for Unser, you're going to regret not showering.”
Gabe groans as though he's being murdered. “Shifting and flying and breathing fire is hard, okay? You wouldn't understand.”
I scoff a little under my breath, but when he looks at me all betrayed, I school my features into something much more contrite. “Of course, it sounds very difficult. So much more difficult than tearing souls out of people left, right, and center.”
Gabe glares at me and then pulls himself up, groaning as his back cracks in about four different places. “Why?! Why can't we just stay in bed for one day? This is fucking stupid.”
I bite my lip and stop myself from pointing out that we're going on a rescue mission because someone's literally being tortured right now. I'm only glad that it's just the three of us here, because Atlas is good about keeping his mouth shut as well and just letting Gabe have a gripe about it.