Page 80 of A Cruel Kindness

Arthur slipped out of the tunnel alongside her, and anyone who looked on would be none the wiser that he’d spent the night in a hidden bunker.

Bellamy’s eyes blinked open sleepily, the brown in them hazy with exhaustion. God, she was fucking cute.

I still felt shell shocked from the day before, and not just because I’d only managed a few hours of sleep.

I’d now be counting down the minutes until I could finally give the Bond what it wanted, rather than pushing it off indefinitely.

When I’d first realized how Bellamy had been maneuvering, I’d been mad.

It took me no longer than a minute to realize I was just pissed because I hadn’t known what was happening. Then I shifted to being impressed.

While Elijah did his very best to come across like a cocky asshole, I could hardly focus on anything else than what Bellamy must have gone through to get those letters here. To throw herself into war just because she couldn’t stand by with that knowledge.

I’d told her my thoughts on the matter. Her decision had brought her to me.

That was gift enough.

Even as dread started pooling in my limbs at the thought of going home for the first time in six years … the Bond cut off my thoughts.

Bellamy will be there. That sounds fun.

Good God, it was obsessed with her. I couldn’t say I entirely disagreed, especially after a night of her nestling into my side like a kitten seeking warmth.

Esme woke up with a bit of a start at the commotion. I focused on Freya to hide any sort of reaction to the memories associated with her doing that.

“How’d that go over?” I asked while I reached into my pack to grab the thermos of coffee I’d stashed there the night before.

Freya made grabby hands towards the cup I was pouring as she explained, “Good. Peter ended up writing a letter saying…” she trailed off as she pulled the copy out of her back pocket as cleared her throat in preparation to replicate Peter’s deep timber. “Soren and Bellamy’s Match has settled in spectacularly. I recommend a trip back to Florus to demonstrate the strength of their Match.”

Ah, the good old propaganda excuse. That would be like catnip to the Royals.

Bellamy groaned, and I realized that was the first time I’d heard such a hoarse sound come out of her sweet throat. “They are going to run us around like animals.”

“Ah, come on,” I said, nudging her with my shoulder. “We get to drink their fancy champagne and watch Royals get drunk in public and try to hide it.”

Now that I said it, that actually sounded very fun.

“WAIT!” Esme yelled loud enough to send birds fleeing from the surrounding trees. “Please bring—”

“Gold?” Bellamy asked, cutting her off. Esme nodded excitedly. “Already done. Though, I expect some Muli jewelry on my arrival.”

Esme would probably pass out if she saw the Royal jewel stores.

Once we had the word that the Royal guard would be coming to grab us, everything happened very quickly. It felt like mere minutes passed between the moment Freya passed along the good news to Peter and the moment we returned to the Bridge, packs in hand.

Normally, there was a big spectacle about Crossing, especially where there were often over fifty Matches ushered across the Bridge at a time. This round, it was just me, Bellamy, and Freya.

The less people there, the better, especially when there wasn’t the element of chaos to hide the bait and switch Freya and Arthur did, or the way his twin Adam jumped into place on the other side.

This time, as Bellamy and I stepped through hand in hand, the pain hit, but far less severe.

It felt like we’d been locked in a tight room together, the darkness and isolation able to terrify you if you focused on it too long. But if you focused on the person in front of you, on their eyes, their scent, the feeling of their skin under yours, it wasn’t as bad.

The most jarring part of it all was leaving the nature of the camp on Muli and going back to the industrial, war-time base on Vir. It was necessary, favoring function over aesthetics so that we would be protected if our defenses failed and Muli launched an attack on us.

It didn’t mean I didn’t miss the towering cliffs and crystal blue water of the Rystrom islands, or even the beautiful urban architecture of the capital, surrounded by icy rivers that trailed from the crater it was built on out to sea.

While the Matches were back on Muli, the base was riddled with antsy, busybody soldiers stationed there under the threat of invasion.