to do much anyway," the woman snaps.
I'm a stubborn girl, the quickest way to get me digging my heels in is to throw those sorts of insults at me.
So I stand there in front of the mirror and I brush out my hair, slowly and meticulously, until it's knot-free and then I braid it. I do the most complicated braid I can manage with only one hair tie to secure it. I have to focus to make sure my hands don’t shake at the sight of the silvery strands, I don’t think I’ll ever really get used to this color.
She huffs and puffs under her breath but I ignore her. She doesn't know what I can do, so she's hesitant to actually try to drag me out. That's a good thing because I can't use my abilities, so I'd be forced to punch her in the throat.
And I would.
I would enjoy every freaking second of it too.
Finally, when I can't procrastinate any longer, I follow her back to the tiny interview room that is now my hell on Earth. Nothing has changed, the file is still sitting there, waiting for me. The woman leaves me there without another word.
I finally crack and open the file.
Fuck.
Big mistake.
There's updated photos of my Bonds in there. Hell, if my life weren't such a giant freaking mess, I'd be ecstatic. Every photo just gets hotter and hotter. They're all ridiculously good looking, too good looking for someone like me.
Okay, I know I'm not, like, hideous or anything, but the photo of Gabriel is of him jogging shirtless and I think the guy has an eight-pack. I have to tell the bond in my chest to settle the hell down because I can't have him. I certainly can't complete the bond with him.
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.
Nope.
I also didn't realize two of my Bonds were brothers. That's going to be... different. The Councilman and his scholar brother. Hell, this entire thing is a fucking mess.
I sift through the other photos, hellbent on finding some sort of escape route. I mean, the killer GPS tracker means it'll be tricky but I've gotten out of shit before. I'm sure I can figure it out, and I need to do it soon. It takes me a second to realize there’s something vital missing from the documents and I scour each page just to be sure.
Their gifts aren’t listed.
There’s a field on each of the documents that says ‘gifts’ but on each and every page, it’s been left blank. There’s not even a clue to tell me what any of them is capable of, and I suddenly find myself insanely desperate to know what they can do.
I’m still fixated on the documents when the lock on the door turns, and I feel the tug in my chest that tells me one of my Bonds is here. Every muscle in my body turns to stone as I wait.
My entire body is practically vibrating with tension as the door opens and I glance up, making eye contact with the eight-pack hottie himself, but he looks away immediately.
Hell.
I had always assumed they'd be upset or disappointed in me, but I am not at all prepared to see the pure, unadulterated loathing in their eyes when four of my mates walk into the interview room.
Freaking loathing.
I swallow and duck my head.
One of them scoffs at me but I ignore it, keeping my eyes glued to my hands where they lie folded on the table in front of me. I don't need to see more of their hate. I hate myself enough for all of us, any more and I might end up finding a fucking bridge to jump off of.
Murderer.
Nope. Can't think about it right now, not when I'm already on edge and freaking out. Where had the fire in me gone? It's like it was sucked out the moment they all stepped into the room.
I hear the scraping of chairs and I grow a spine, glancing back up. I stare around at each of them, slowly taking them in. It’s easy to distinguish them all from each other, even without the photos spread out in front of me on the table.
Gryphon is scowling and grumpy looking, the scar running through his eyebrow standing out even more. He looks exactly like