Chapter 17 Gabriel
I made my way through the crowd of students and parents in the quad, irritation simmering just beneath the surface.
My focus remained on getting to Magus House to see Bechora.
After two days of keeping my distance at her request. Of fighting against every instinct in my body since I’d left my mating mark on her throat.
I was done with it. I still wasn’t sure how I’d ended up being kicked out when it was Zypher who’d kept something major from her, and I’d simply been there when Archer forced the truth from him.
My jaw tightened as I pushed past a group of chatting parents, their voices fading into the background.
As if being asked to give her space as well wasn‘t enough, I’d been subjected to Archer’s…
lecture. If it could even be called that.
I let out a humorless laugh as I recalled it.
He’d cornered both Zypher and me with an intensity that would’ve been laughable if not for the sheer conviction behind it.
Gone was his usual teasing edge and careless smirk.
In its place was something far more serious.
In his mind, we were failing her, and he made sure we knew it.
Then had come the insistence that we meet up so he could provide lessons.
Selir, the male was ridiculous. “The art of foot massage,” he’d called it, as if it were some sacred discipline that only he could teach.
“Why brushing your mate’s hair matters”, the subject delivered with a level of sincerity that made it impossible to mock outright.
I’d endured it, barely. Zypher hardly fared better, though the weight of guilt from keeping such a massive secret showed in the way his shoulders curled in on themselves.
And yet… My steps faltered for half a second before I forced them to continue.
The only redeeming part of the entire ordeal had been the absence of Archer’s usual innuendos.
There’d been no loaded remarks, no ‘pretty boy’ commentary.
None of that teasing edge in his voice aimed in my direction.
It should’ve been a relief. I tried to tell myself it was a relief.
But the absence of it sat wrong beneath my skin in a way I couldn’t explain.
As though something was missing, which was beyond absurd.
I didn’t want his attention. The male was insufferable, loud…
invasive. Entirely too comfortable inserting himself where he didn’t belong.
A flicker of something unwelcome curled low in my chest, and I crushed it immediately.
It was irrelevant and meant nothing. It was nothing.
I forced my attention back to Bechora, where it belonged.
Everything else was just noise. Easily ignored. Explainable.
I’d spent my life knowing exactly how my future would unfold.
What my father expected of me. I’d mate a powerful female.
Someone who’d strengthen our family's status and ensure our continued standing. A sardonic chuckle escaped me at the direction of my thoughts. The sheer irony that my father would see my mate as a deviation from the path he’d laid out for me, when she was so much more.
I’d fought the pull toward her so hard because I’d been afraid of my father.
Terrified of what he might do to my mother and younger sister just to break me for my inability to fall in line.
Selir truly had a sense of humor to destine me for a woman who not only surpassed my father’s expectations, but gave me the strength to break away from them.
With her, everything else just made sense.
Whatever this… distraction with Archer was, it was nothing more than proximity.
Circumstance. The strange, tangled dynamic she’d drawn around her like gravity.
That was all. It had to be because the alternative…
My steps slowed again, more subtly this time.
No. I shut the thought down before it could take root.
There was no alternative. There was just Bechora.
Archer Vale was nothing more to me than another of her mates.
My jaw clenched. Even if the memory of him standing too close, voice quieter, more serious than I’d heard, tugged at something inside me. Even if I caught myself watching his expression as he chatted with the others at meals, something almost like yearning unfurling between my ribs. Even if –
I exhaled sharply, dragging my hand through my hair, silently screaming ‘enough’ at my wayward thoughts.
They were pointless. It wasn’t how I was built, not what I was meant for.
Bechora was already more than I was ever supposed to want; there wasn’t room for anything beyond that.
The lie settled uneasily in my chest, but I ignored it, lengthening my stride as Magus House came into view.
“Gabriel,” a cold, familiar voice barked out, sending a chill down my spine and causing my feet to freeze in place.
My throat went dry as I forced myself to turn and face my father, trying to bury the panic that coiled in my gut. “Father,” I managed.
His lips were turned down in an angry scowl as he strolled toward me. Without meaning to, I stepped back until I was against the side of the closest building.
“What is this I hear about you mingling with a powerless nobody?” he hissed as he drew to a stop just in front of me. “And where were you between terms? I sent for you to return home.”
The words hit like a leash, familiar in their bite.
My spine wanted to bow, my instincts urged submission and compliance.
My palms began to sweat as my hands threatened to shake.
I’d obeyed him my entire life, in fear of what he might do, and I could taste the bile rising in the back of my throat as that fear tried to rise up inside me.
I curled my fingers into a fist, my nails biting into my palms as I forced myself to hold his gaze.
“I had other obligations,” I said carefully.
A mistake. His eyes flashed, dark and furious. “Your only obligation is to this family,” he snapped, the air around us shifting with the weight of his power. “Or have you forgotten your place?”
I hadn’t forgotten. That was the problem.
Every beating, every twisted threat, every punishment doled out in the name of discipline, against my mother, simply to keep me under foot.
All of it lived beneath my skin like a second heartbeat.
But something else lived there now, too.
Bechora. The thought steadied me in a way nothing else ever had.
My rising fear didn’t vanish, but it shifted, making room for a boldness I’d never dared show in his presence before.
“You forfeited your right to dictate my movements when you lost your leverage over me,” I said, my voice quieter than his, but certain in a way I’d never been before. “How are Mother and Dina? Oh, that’s right. You wouldn’t know since they’ve managed to finally escape you.”
The words settled between us for a beat.
Just long enough for me to straighten my shoulders and start to think I’d finally gained the upper hand.
Then, his hand moved, almost too fast to track even with my vampiric senses.
Pain exploded across my face as his grip locked around my jaw, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he forced my head back.
“Careful, boy,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something far more dangerous than his earlier anger. “You seem to be under the impression that you’ve escaped me.”
My breath hitched despite myself. A lifetime of conditioning, causing icy fear to surge through my veins.
“You haven’t.” His thumb pressed against my lower lip, forcing it down. “You think I need your mother and sister to control you?” he continued, almost conversational now. “That they were anything more than… conveniences?”
My stomach dropped.
“I am far older and far stronger than you. You are mine,” he said, his grip tightening as he pressed along my gums, forcing my fangs to drop. “And I will remind you of that fact as many times as necessary.”
My body reacted before my mind could catch up, muscles locking up, my breath growing shallow, as deeply ingrained fear slammed into place. Every cell in my body urged me to run, submit… survive. His fingers shifted to grip one of my fangs. Panic spiked, sharp and immediate.
“Perhaps you’ve forgotten the consequences of defiance,” he said, almost thoughtfully. “We can correct that.”
Pressure. A sharp, brutal tug. Then white-hot pain lanced through my jaw as he began to pull. A strangled sound tore from my throat before I could stop it, and my hands came up to grab his wrist to stop him. But my strength faltered against his. Against him. The way it always did.
“Hey.” The single word cut through the moment like a blade. Casual. Light. Wrong.
The pressure in my mouth paused, not a release, but a reprieve.
My father’s head turned slowly, his grip still locked in place, as his gaze shifted over his shoulder.
I sucked in a sharp breath, pain still throbbing through my skull as I followed his line of sight.
Archer stood a few paces away, hands shoved into his pockets as he casually rocked back and forth on his feet.
The wolf shifter’s lips were curled into a smile, but something in his expression seemed too tight for his normally playful demeanor.
His eyes flicked to me first, narrowing slightly as he quietly assessed the situation.
Keeping his body loose, smile firmly intact, he shifted his attention to my father and pulled a hand from his pocket, thrusting it out for a handshake.
“Archer Vale.” His grin was more teeth than lips as he spoke. “And you might be?”
My father’s eyes narrowed. “None of your concern, wolf. You’ve interrupted a private conversation with my son.”