Chapter 16 Avery
AVERY
After not so pleasant dreams of running through the dark streets of the city, being chased by jackals and trying but failing to reach a pair of glowing hazel eyes, I dragged myself to the dining hall with the usual crew.
Said lynx had brought a few pals with him this morning, so Mal and I were crammed between some friendly Support Squadron trainees and Allen’s wolf friends.
“I don’t know, Avery,” Mal said, biting her lip. “You would think that after how you fared yesterday against the Ashtons, everyone would’ve gotten the message to leave you alone, but I worry.”
Ash spun one of her many rings around on her finger, her dark gaze sweeping the room like she was assessing it for threats.
“It’s typical. Half the student body will think it was high time those assholes got put in their place, but the other half are the type who are still engrained in ‘tradition’ and freaked out by females who can shift. They’ll have to get the hell over it.”
“Well, I’ve never claimed to be able to shift,” I replied with a shrug, but then her words registered. I narrowed my eyes at Mal. “Have people been targeting you?”
She waved a hand. “No. Well, not that much. Especially now that I’m always with Allen. He only associates with the wolves who think shifting females are cool and normal, and they make for good backup.”
Unease leached into my stomach. In some ways, I’d lived a sheltered life down in the city, away from the heart of the region’s shifter community.
I’d known a few women with beast souls, and I’d never seen any of them directly targeted by hate.
Those of us who lived where we did tended to be the types to eschew shifter norms, so strong beliefs regarding Moon curses or any of that bullshit weren’t really a thing.
I still took great pains to avoid shifting in front of others, but that was a me problem.
And yet here I was, bulldozing my way through the college and inflaming the zealots. My actions could make things worse for girls like Mallory, and I did not like that.
I pointed at her with my fork. “If something happens, don’t be a hero. Shift and scurry your little cat butt away.”
“Says the lady who was literally underneath a bear less than twenty-four hours ago,” she retorted, and then her gaze snagged on something over my shoulder, a sly grin forming on her face. “And not in the fun way.”
Wyatt had just breezed into the room, dressed to kill in a dark green Henley and his usual distressed denim.
Heath and Aiden entered behind him, deep in conversation with each other.
Heath wore a long-sleeved black T-shirt sporting the Guardian logo and snug blue jeans.
Aiden’s dress shirt was navy blue today and tucked into fitted gray pants.
Behind them walked Elijah, wearing only a loose cream-colored tank top with his jeans, the inked snake wrapped around his neck on full display, the thin gold hoops in his ears and nose glinting under the light of the chandeliers.
I had to tamp down the little thrill his presence elicited. I’d yet to see him in the dining hall, and by the blatant staring of 80 percent of the room, it must not have been a regular occurrence.
“Ooh, if Elijah’s here, does that mean—”
Shrieks from the tables near the entrance answered my question.
“Oh, fuck no,” Allen said, grabbing Mallory and lifting her on top of the table like she was a doll. He scrambled up after her, while Chance and one of Brody’s friends stood on their chairs.
A seven-foot train of sparkly purple scales wound its way into the room. Elijah and the rest of his quad went about piling their plates with food in the buffet lines, blatantly ignoring the fact that people were crawling on tables and fleeing the room behind them.
George slithered under our table. Ian laughed, and Brody, to his immense credit, had gone only slightly pale. Ash pulled her feet up underneath her body on her chair but otherwise seemed unaffected.
“Yes, hello to you too,” I cooed at George as he climbed into my lap. “Who’s the prettiest snake in the world? You are, that’s who. Did you have a nice long nap after your daddy fed you?”
“Avery, why?” Mallory moaned.
“Did you know snakes only eat a few times a month, and they have to nap for several days afterwards while they digest, depending on the size of the prey?” I asked her. “Fascinating.”
“Avery, we are eating,” Allen whispered urgently. “Put the snake down.”
George slanted Allen a snakey glare, and then he continued his climb to his favorite spot, wrapping himself around my shoulders, where he could sniff my hair.
“Pythons aren’t venomous, Allen,” I said. “You guys all need to calm down.”
“No way, I’ve seen him choke a guy out,” Chance said, still standing on his chair. “That thing is vicious, and I don’t know if you realize this, Avery, but he is wound around your neck.”
“George won’t harm her,” Elijah announced, popping up behind me and jump-scaring half the table. He stroked George’s head with one long finger, and the snake made a pleased sort of hissing noise. “He’s partial to our dove.”
“Hi,” I said to him, lamely. His yellow-gold eyes were full of mirth as he observed me wearing his snake like a scarf. “Do you want George back? Or can I take him to Aiden’s class with me?”
He grinned. “You think I can tell him what to do? He’ll go where he wants to, and right now, I suspect that’s with you.”
“Aiden will be thrilled,” I said.
With that thought, I darted a glance at the faculty dining area, set apart from us by a wide arched doorway.
Aiden was sitting next to a young female professor, who looked like the polished version of a teenage boy’s hot-for-teacher fantasy.
She gazed at him adoringly, but his eyes were on me—or my situation, at least. He appeared as exasperated by George and me as he had been on the first day of class.
I fluttered my fingers at him in a wave, and he shut his eyes like he was praying to the Moon for peace.
“Don’t let Aiden fool you,” Elijah said in a conspiratorial whisper. “He and George are practically best friends.”
“Who wouldn’t want to be your best friend?” I crooned at the snake. “You’re so pretty and smart and cuddly.”
“Avery, honestly, I think you may have hit your head when that bear crushed you,” Mallory said. “Did Dr. Lee check you for a concussion?”
Heath and Wyatt strolled up, plates in hand. “Dude, we only have, like, fifteen minutes to eat,” Wyatt said to Elijah. “I’m sure the wildcat will take good care of George while you scarf down a sweet potato bowl or whatever vegan bullshit you’re eating today.”
A jolt of adrenaline sizzled through my veins. “Wildcat?”
Wyatt’s grin was wicked. “What, Elijah can have a pet name for you, and I can’t?”
“Uh—”
“How are you today, Avery?” Heath asked diplomatically. “Any lingering problems?”
“I’m well, thank you for asking, Heath,” I replied, matching his tone but adding one dash of sarcasm.
His hazel eyes blazed, but he snuffed it out instantly. “Good. We have training this afternoon, and you’ll want to be in full health for that.”
I resisted rolling my eyes and turned back to Elijah. “Heath thinks he’s my dad,” I told him.
He barked out a laugh. “I can promise you, Dove, that he does not.”
Heath shoved Elijah. “Table. Food. Now.”
As they shuffled off to join the elite student tables, Wyatt cast one heated, lingering look at me over his shoulder, sinking perfect white teeth into his lower lip before he turned around.
I ate the rest of my breakfast pretending that there wasn’t a python wrapped around my shoulders, that the entire room wasn’t staring at me, and that my dear brother wasn’t laughing at me with his eyeballs.
George stayed with me through Aiden’s class and then took off for parts unknown. Then it was Shifter History and Culture, which I found to be much less tense and much more boring than it’d been the first day, thanks to the lecture topic on shifters in medieval times.
The fact that Heath and Wyatt had to find open seats much further away from me also helped. My beast was aware of them, though, ears perked and tail flicking, but I did my best to ignore the heat of their stares on the back of my neck.
When class ended, I packed my stuff away unhurriedly, so my butt was still in my seat when Phoebe swanned by and gave me a hateful look, her perfect little nose turned up.
I got it. I really did. Girls like Phoebe had been raised to believe that their ultimate purpose in this life was to become the central bond of a power quad like the Blackwells.
She seemed to have some kind of connection with Heath—or a serious crush, at the very least—which meant he represented the thing she wanted most. Heath was also powerful, dominant, and stunning. A Prime-blooded girl’s wet dream.
But then I showed up out of absolutely nowhere, swinging my swords and being otherwise annoying to half the campus, and I had Heath marching me to the infirmary and stopping by my table in the dining hall like he gave a shit. I wouldn’t be my favorite person, either, if I were her.
Since it was all our backwards-ass culture’s fault, I’d let the mean-girl behavior slide. I was proud of my maturity.
The patting myself on the back lasted all of three minutes, until I’d finally packed my bag and exited the classroom.
“Hey, new bitch.”
I whirled. There was Callista, the Veronica to Phoebe’s Betty, her arms crossed over her black cashmere turtleneck and her lips—colored dark red and perfectly lined—pursed.
Great.
I blew out a resigned breath. “Can I help you?”
“You sure can. You can keep your claws off Wyatt and the rest of his quad.”
I pasted on a confused face. “Shouldn’t you be addressing your concerns to Phoebe and maybe that hot professor lady I saw pawing at Aiden earlier? They’re the ones who seem to have their eyes on your prize. I’m just here to become certified to kill wraiths.”