SAVAGE BONDS

Chapter 3: Inside Joke

Loren’s pov

“Ouch, it burns!” I hissed, flinching away.

“Don’t be a baby, Lore. I haven’t even touched it yet,” my brother chidded in annoyance.

Silence settled in our living room as Bryce adjusted his glasses and brought the alcohol soaked cotton wool to my bruise again.

This time, I sat perfectly still as he rubbed the antiseptic all over my bite wound.

“See? That wasn’t even half bad,” he announced, inspecting his work.

“Why don’t you get bitten by a vampire and see how that works out for you, smartass.”

“You see, unlike you, I know how to keep my mouth shut,” he finished in that chidding tone of his, taking off his gloves and chucking it in the trash. “I told you it’d get you in trouble one of these days.”

I didn’t want to argue. Not because he was right — but because it was easier than hearing that tone again. But I blurted indignantly, “I didn’t even speak this time! Ask Ella!”

“It’s true,” Ella chimed from where she was sitting cross legged on our kitchen counter, hunched over her laptop.

“What are you even looking at?” I asked, trying to peer over her shoulder.

“Those boys that showed up at the diner? You won’t believe who they are.”

“Who are they?”

“Well,” she turned the laptop so that the screen faced me. Bryce came and squished in beside me.

“That’s the guy that bit me!” I pointed an accusing finger at the figure on the screen.

“Yup. That’s prince Nicolas, the second son of the Lycan King. Used to be crown prince but he got dethroned and turned into a vampire as some kind of punishment for disrespecting his father. Hates humans because one took his mother’s place and is cursed to have halfblood for a brother.”

Halfblood was the term used for human/veilborn hybrids. In a way, they were even worse than veilborns, they couldn’t let out their frustration of not being quite there yet on veilborns, so humans were always always the target. I used to think there was some good in them but after repeatedly getting burned by the ones I thought were my friends, I knew better than to expect kindness or humanity from the likes of them.

“No wonder he hates humans.” I mused.

“Yeah. A spoiled brat like that? That’s got to hurt his ego.”

I remembered the burning hateful gaze in his eyes when he confronted me, the paralyzing fear and every sensible cell in my body screaming at me to run and hide. Hate was putting it lightly.

I shivered and changed the subject. “What about Redhead. I think he said he works for the Morgensteins.”

“Close. He’s actually the heir of the entire organization.”

“What?” Bryce exclaimed. “So you’re telling me you had not one but two veilborn princes show up at the diner today?”

“Three actually.” Ella explained. “The third one? The quiet one, that’s Misha Fairthorne. Bastard prince of the Seelie court.”

At the mention of the boy I had a massive crush on, my senses came alive and a blush rose to my cheeks. “He’s kind of mysterious isn't he? There’s not a lot about him.”

Luckily, they didn't question how I knew that about him.

“Mysterious?” Ella scoffed. “More like boring. Besides his pretty face, there’s nothing else he has going for him.”

That’s not true, I wanted to argue. Unlike the others, he’s nice!

But I realized that my argument wouldn't suffice when I have to confront the fact that he stood and watched his best friends terrorize the restaurant and feed on me, ruining the earlier impression I had of him.

He’s not like that, I wanted to argue. He’s not like them… But the only evidence I had to support my theory were a few intense eye contacts and a few white roses.

“So, let me get this straight.” Bryce straightened up, a hard look in his eyes. “You had not one, not two, but THREE veilborn princes at the diner today.”

“Yup.” Ella replied before I could stop her.

Bryce slammed his hands on the dingy dining table, rattling the cutlery. “You can’t go back there, Loren.”

I glared up at him indignantly. “Sure I can! I haven't even gotten my paycheck yet.”

“I can make enough for the both of us. And I’ll talk to Miguel about this precious little paycheck of yours but you can’t go back to the diner anymore! It’s not safe.”

“Bryce!” I protested. “This was just a one time incident. Miguel fired Julio and gave the other staff a warning–”

“It’s final, Loren. Do I need to remind you why you should not be on any Veilborn’s radar or have you forgotten what happened to mum and dad?!”

At the mention of my parents, my very dead parents, I fell silent.

“You didn't need to bring them up, Bryce.”

“Apparently I do because you seem to conveniently forget why you need to be more careful.”

“I don't forget,” I hissed, standing to my feet, “so you can stop bringing it up every goddamn time!”

“It was your mistake that got them killed in the first place.”

He stopped himself a little too late. The instant look of horror and regret washing over his face was like bandaid over a bullet wound.

Every now and then he lets it slip that he still resents me for my mistake.

And every now and then I remember why I can never be truly comfortable around him.

It could be his grief talking but for me it was a painful reminder of survivor’s guilt.

“That was low. Bryce.” Ella muttered under her breath.

He ran his hand through his hair and let out a breath. He looked up at the ceiling and counted under his breath and when he looked back down at me, he wouldn’t meet my eyes. “God, I know. I'm sorry, Loren. I’m so sorry.”

Ella rolled her eyes. “Wanna sleep over at my place to escape the grinch for a while.”

I nodded and walked into my room to grab my overnight bag.

“Hey! Hey! Don’t leave, come on, talk to me.!” Bryce protested, grabbing my hand.

“Relax, Bryce. I'll be back tomorrow. I just can't stand your s**t right now.”

Bryce dropped my hand, a defeated look coasting across his face.

“Cmon, baby girl,” Ella chirped, taking my hand.

It was quiet as we walked to her beat up chevy truck. She opened the passenger side for me with a flourish and a ‘milady’ that elicited an eyeroll and giggle from me.

I settled into the worn leather seats and pulled open the dashboard drawer where she kept her stash of candy and snacks.

“He’s probably stressed from work. You know how there’s a lot of racism and discrimination involved. He probably didn’t mean what he said so don't overthink it.”

“I’m not overthinking it,” I lied, unwrapping five candies at the same time.

“I know you, Loren.”

I didn’t give her a reply because well, she was right. I rested my feet on the car seat and rested my cheek on my knee, chewing quietly.

Ella was quiet for a while. “Sooo will you be ‘working’ tonight?” She made air quotes to signify the kind of work she meant.

“Yeah,” I sniffed, crushing sweets in my mouth.

“I admire your dedication, Lore. I mean, sure, you could use the distraction but you also won't let anything stop you from getting your money Up.”

I nodded in agreement with her but that was only part of the reason I kept up my side job.

While the cash was a huge bonus, the real reason I danced every night at Club Nuit had nothing to do with the paycheck. It was the eyes. The attention. The desire and admiration I evoked from the eyes of the people that watched. It was the love. The stares. The roses. I liked the way they looked at me — not with pity or disdain — but with hunger. It made me feel seen, even if it wasn’t for the right reasons.

When I was on stage, I was more than human. I was seen.

There was no disgust. No hatred. No reminders of where I didn’t belong.

Only desire.

It was the closest thing I could get to being loved. And I’d take it.

Contrary to popular opinion, I really liked attention — for all the right reasons.

It was the bad attention that made me wither and retreat.

But the good kind?

I’d give an arm and a leg to remain in the limelight.

“We’re a little early. Do you need a change of clothes or…”

I shook my head. “Nah. Just drive. Petro will take care of it.”