Her nervousness and unease stemmed primarily from one source: Cyrus’s presence was simply too overwhelming.
"Yeah..." She shifted under his gaze. "There was no other choice. Given the circumstances, if I hadn’t bonded with Liam, both of us would have died."
Cyrus silently studied the seemingly absent-minded woman in front of him.
A woman...
He corrected himself. It had been seven or eight years since any of them had seen a living female. In this godforsaken wasteland, there wasn’t so much as a female animal.
Yet there was something strangely... naive about her. Her eyes were almost painfully clear, carrying an innocent, straightforward quality that made her seem completely alien to the Federation.
He finally spoke, his voice low and deliberate. "Do you even know what forming a bond means?"
Bunny searched her mind for the information embedded in her memory chip. According to the handbook, didn’t it simply mean the Sentinel became the Guide’s exclusive partner? From that moment forward, he couldn’t be separated from her. Everything he possessed—including his life—belonged to his Guide.
She straightened her posture, adopting a solemn expression. Deep down, she was still a traditional woman raised on old Earth values.
Word by word, she made a solemn vow: "I know. And I will take responsibility for him."
Take responsibility for him?
Hearing those words spoken so earnestly by a Guide was... startling.
Bunny immediately caught the shift in the room. The way the Sentinels looked at her altered instantly; their sharp, analytical expressions dissolved into something far more peculiar, laced with barely concealed amusement.
Poor, clueless Bunny had no idea she had just dug a pit and jumped straight into it.
The ratio of awakened Sentinels to Guides was an astounding thousand to one. Under the brutal conditions of the interstellar era, human genetics had clearly favored evolution toward physically dominant Sentinels. As for Guides—who possessed only purification abilities and were far weaker physically—evolution seemed to consider them an afterthought.
As a result, Sentinels clung to Guides like starving dogs. Since Guides held all the leverage, they were notoriously fickle, adoring one Sentinel today only to shower another with affection tomorrow. Countless Sentinels were routinely abandoned and neglected even after forming a bond.
In this ruined world, the phrase "take responsibility" sounded downright absurd.
Yet none of that mattered to the men in the room. Sentinels driven to the brink of madness by survival, mental degeneration, and endless slaughter would still instinctively crawl toward a Guide the moment one appeared. They would fight viciously for the privilege of becoming her "good dog."
It was an instinct etched into their very DNA—absolute and irresistible.
Under the razor-sharp, silent scrutiny of so many eyes, Bunny grew so nervous she wanted to melt through the floorboards. Had she said something wrong? Did they think she was some shameless woman who took advantage of their teammate just because he was handsome?
Unable to endure the suffocating silence, she added hastily, "I... I mean it."
The moment the words left her mouth, several Sentinels burst out laughing. They found this newly arrived Guide far too innocent—and dangerously endearing.
Brandon, who had been lounging at the foot of her bed, planted his hands on the mattress and slowly slunk up toward her pillow. Propping his head in one hand, he sprawled beside her with an utterly shameless lack of boundaries.
The audacious grace of his movements made it seem as though it were his bed rather than hers. With his silver wolf-tail hairstyle and sharp jawline, he looked like a wild, rebellious blend of high-fashion models.
He regarded her with a lazy, roguish grin. "Miss Bunny, I’m very well-behaved, too. Why don’t you take responsibility for me while you’re at it?"
As his solid, muscular frame sank into the mattress, the bedding dipped noticeably under his weight. Bunny’s gaze involuntarily darted to his torso. He was wearing a revealing black fishnet tank top that left little of his ripped physique to the imagination.
And, inexplicably, the massive young man was wearing a leather dog collar around his throat.
Oh God. Look away. Look away right now!
Bunny fought to drag her eyes away from the teasing glimpses of skin beneath the mesh, swallowing instinctively.
They’re coworkers. Just coworkers. Don’t entertain inappropriate thoughts. Workplace romance is strictly forbidden!
Steeling her heart against the onslaught of male beauty, Bunny remained entirely unmoved. She was a woman of principle.
She yanked the blanket higher, her tone firm. "Sorry, but could you please get off my bed?"
She absolutely could not tolerate a man climbing onto her sheets in his street clothes.
Brandon’s long lashes fluttered, the corner of his mouth curving into a delighted smirk. "And what if I don’t?"