Page 70 of A Cruel Kindness

Good. I want blood. The more the better. Well, it seemed that I’d finally appeased the Bond.

I calmly dabbed the corners of my mouth with my napkin, before placing it gently on the table. I stood slowly, the extent of movement my body would allow.

“Bellamy, what are you doing?” Freya asked, and I assumed her expression matched her confusion. I could hear her again. I guess it was because my eyes were focused on something else.

“Excuse me,” I said, my voice wavering with barely controlled rage. My breaths were coming in such hot pants, I was sure I would start to spit fire.

“What are you—oh, shit,” Freya said when she looked behind her, right as I stepped away from the bench and pushed back from the table.

Oh, shit was right, I guessed. I should probably warn her to contact the medical tent.

That thought was fleeting as I took measured steps forward, bringing me closer and closer to the scene commanding my attention and blurring my vision.

My steps faltered for a second, tripping over the weight of my own rage, when the nurse standing in front of Soren moved her hand to his forehead, right across his cut.

Give. Me. Her. Hand, the Bond yelled, bloodthirsty.

She was pretty. It was a latent thought, though I hadn’t really had many of them since I’d seen her walk up to Soren and smile at him. My mind went blank, save for a low, ominous buzzing.

It was the step she took towards him that sent me over the edge. He didn’t move away, retreat and put distance between them. He let her invade his space. My space.

And now she was touching him. Still smiling, too.

That wouldn’t do.

Make it so she never smiles again. The Bond was rather cruel when I let it speak freely.

I could see people watching me out of my peripheral vision, and caught quite a few people track my line of sight then take several large steps away from me. At least they were smart.

When I got within two feet of the woman, she finally noticed me. I didn’t have time to fully absorb how wide her eyes went or the fact that her mouth opened to say something.

My hand went right for hers, twisting it away from Soren’s head in a brutal grip. The Bond was telling me to squeeze harder, twist farther—anything it took to make her understand that she had just touched what was mine.

The nurse cried out in pain, a shriek so high-pitched it could have broken glass.

“Get away from him,” I growled, twisting her arm further so that it was pinned behind her back. I shoved her forward, unable to care whether she tripped and fell face first in the mud.

Actually, that sounded like a great plan. Smart, the Bond agreed.

A distant part of my mind, the one that had controlled me for my life prior to this, noted that my capacity for violence had doubled since I’d been Matched with Soren. Well, actually it was violence where he was concerned, but it had doubled nonetheless.

Right as I was about to shove that bitch who dared touch Soren to the mud, arms wrapped around my waist and lifted me off the ground. My hand was wrenched off the nurse’s and everything around us exploded.

She started screaming, tears sliding down her cheeks as she yelled about how much pain she was in. Dramatic, if you ask me. It wasn't like I broke her wrist.

I just twisted it so hard her skin was blooming with a red mark. Fair treatment in my book.

People started running up to us, all with a different goal in mind. Someone went to go check on the nurse’s arm, while someone else yelled at her to calm down. Everyone gave me space though, letting Soren deal with me.

He hauled me against him, restraining me as my blind rage made me fight him, needing to go after her one more time. When the nurse had the bright idea to yell, “Soren!” with a whimpering, pleading voice, like he would drop me and go help her, I nearly blacked out from possessive anger.

She thinks Soren is hers, the Bond purred, like a rumbling engine. Prove her wrong.

“Bell,” Soren growled in my ear in warning, but I barely heard him. I was too focused on trying to wrestle myself out of his hold so I could grab that nurse by her stupid ponytail and wrench her head back so that I could punch his name right out of her mouth.

“Get her out of here,” Soren barked to someone. Even though my hands were on his corded forearms, trying to get them off me, that statement made my hands tighten around his. If he though for one fucking second he was casting me aside to some nameless soldier so that he could tend to his nurse, I would find a way to lock him in our cabin until he learned his lesson.

A moment later, someone picked the nurse off the ground and carried her away from us. Well, good fucking riddance.