Chapter 20
T he t-shirt dangled from my fingertips, its deep Covenant House red a stark contrast against my pale skin. The gold lettering emblazoned across the back seemed to mock me, the word "CONSORT" gleaming under the harsh morning light streaming into the dining room.
I had found the outfit of the day on my bed after I had gotten out of the shower this morning, and immediately stormed downstairs to where Logan, Ryder and Cole were eating breakfast with some of the other Covenant guys. Ryder's eyes had lit up as I came into the room, but I didn't give him a chance to say something as I waved the top in front of Logan's face
"You can't expect me to wear this," I spat, my voice sharp and edged with disbelief. Logan sat back in his chair, his posture relaxed but his eyes cold and challenging. He didn't even flinch at the venom in my tone. Instead, a small, cruel smile played at the corners of his lips, sending a chill down my spine.
"That is exactly what I expect of you," he said, his voice low and matter-of-fact. "Until everyone knows exactly who you belong to." The words hit me like a physical blow. I felt my cheeks flush with anger and humiliation as the reality of my situation crashed over me once more.
"I'm not your property!" I retorted, my voice rising with each word. Logan's eyebrow arched, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips.
"Vow and contract say otherwise, Princess." I wanted to scream, to throw the shirt in his face and run. But where would I go? The weight of my grandparents' financial security, of my own future, hung in the balance. I was trapped, and Logan knew it.
My head throbbed, a dull ache that had been my constant companion since waking. My alarm had woken me this morning, and it had been hard getting out of bed. The heavy, clouded feeling still hadn't cleared from my brain. It wasn't like me to feel this way, especially in the morning. Had I slept poorly? I couldn't remember.
Before I could gather my thoughts, Logan's voice cut through the fog. "While we are on the subject of our contract, your class schedule has been adjusted." I blinked, trying to focus on the paper he was now holding out to me. My eyes scanned the page, widening as I took in the changes. My carefully crafted schedule, the one I'd agonised over for weeks, was gone. In its place was a nightmare of overlapping classes with Logan, Ryder, and Cole.
"Law?" I read aloud, my voice thick with disbelief. "I've never studied Law. I can't possibly keep up-" Logan cut me off, his tone dismissive.
"You're not expected to excel, Princess. Just be seen." I opened my mouth to argue, but Cole's voice interrupted, smooth and placating.
"Hey, my schedule's changed too. I'll be tagging along to some of your English classes. Consider yourself lucky, Pet." I turned to face him, taking in his charming grin and the mischievous glint in his mismatched eyes. His attempt at lightening the mood only served to fuel my anger. Did he think this was a game? That his presence in my classes was some sort of consolation prize?
"Lucky?" I echoed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh yes, how fortunate I am to have my entire life rearranged without my consent. Thank you so much for gracing me with your presence, Cole. Whatever would I do without you?" Cole's grin faltered for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable passing across his face before the mask of easy charm slipped back into place.
Logan's face contorted in fury as he stood up from his chair and advanced on me. I stood my ground, fists clenching at my sides, refusing to back down. With a vicious snarl, Logan grabbed me, fingers digging into my upper arms as he slammed me back against the table. The air left my lungs in a rush, a whimper of surprise escaping my lips. He loomed over me, eyes blazing with something dark and dangerous.
"You need to learn your place, Princess," Logan growled, his voice low and deadly. "You belong to the Regents now." His hands slid down my arms, rough and demanding. With cruel intent, he yanked the towel open, exposing my bare flesh to his hungry gaze.
I tried to grab at the towel, but he snatched my arms above my head in one hand as a mocking smirk tugged at his lips. "And when I say belong, I mean that if I wanted to fuck you right here, on this table, in front of everyone." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against my neck. "You'd be damn well grateful for the privilege. Grateful for every fucking stroke of my cock pounding into your tight little pussy." His free hand pushed between my bare legs, forcing them open enough to push a knee in. I tried not to look around, knowing that every pair of eyes were on us right now. my face flushed with embarrassment and shame as the feeling of his jean clad, hard cock rubbed against my leg sparked a flutter of feelings way too low for my liking.
Logan moved away from me with a smirk and sat back down in his chair, picking up his phone like nothing had happened. "And you will be grateful for the clothes on your back, before I decide you don't need them. Now go and get fucking dressed. I do not want to be late again."
I scrambled up from the table and grabbed the towel and the damn t-shirt, rushing from the room as I avoided looking at anyone. I got to my room and slammed the door shut with the memory of the way Logan looked at me.
There was a sure sign of attraction that was clear, but underneath I saw something in his eyes that felt dangerous, so dangerous that it scared me. As I pulled the offending t-shirt over my head, the fabric clung to my skin like a brand. I avoided the mirror, not wanting to confront the image of a Consort staring back at me. The word seemed to echo in my mind, a relentless reminder of my new reality. With a deep, steadying breath, I braced myself for the day ahead.
The walk to campus was a silent affair. Each step I took felt heavy, weighed down by the knowledge of what, or rather who, awaited me there. Flanked by Logan on one side and Ryder on the other, with Cole trailing behind, I was very much aware of the eyes and the whispers that followed our movements. I flinched as Ryder's hand found the small of my back, his fingers splayed possessively as he leaned in, his voice a low purr that made my skin crawl.
"How'd you sleep last night, Poison?" His question was laced with something like excitement, and I felt like there was some inner joke that I was missing. Instead of responding, I kept my gaze fixed straight ahead, ignoring the smirk that I could feel playing on his lips.
I could feel the tension radiating off Logan, his presence both a silent warning to anyone who dared to challenge his authority, and to me, not to fuck up and embarrass him. Ryder, on the other hand, seemed to revel in the attention, his enjoyment of the situation evident in his cocky grin and the way he so openly touched me.
As we approached the entrance to my English Literature lecture, Logan and Ryder broke away, leaving Cole and me to continue alone. I could feel Cole's eyes on me as we walked, his gaze heavy but not unwelcome. It was a stark contrast to the leering attention I had received from Ryder, or the oppressive silence of Logan's company.
The first thing I saw as I walked into the lecture hall was Luce waving madly at me with a grin on her face. I smiled and waved back, excited to see her. Then her face slipped, and I realised that she had noticed Cole at my back.
"Hey," Luce greeted me as I slipped into the seat beside her. "How was your weekend?" I could tell that despite the casual tone of her question that Luce had a thousand questions, but there was no way we could even begin to unpack the fuck fest of my life, not with the looming presence of Cole on my other side. I forced a smile, acutely aware of Cole's presence.
"Oh, you know... eventful," I replied, my voice tight. Luce's eyes darted between Cole and me, her brows furrowing. She nodded quickly, which made me wonder how much she did know about what had gone on. I had been told that the Hunt and everything that went with being the Consort was to be kept confidential. As far as most of the students of the school were aware, it was a traditional title like head girl and afforded the title holder extra responsibilities, but that was all.
"So," I said quickly, desperate to change the subject. "How was your weekend? How was home?" Luce glanced at Cole again before forcing her own smile.
"Oh, I didn't see them," she said, "I pretty much spent the weekend prepping for classes." I narrowed my eyes on her. I distinctly remembered her saying she was going to see her family on Friday. But as I mentally replayed the memory of our conversation that night, I realised that Ryder was there at the time and Luce had been about to tell me something before he had interrupted. Had she known Ryder's plans? I glanced quickly at Cole to see that he was watching both of us carefully. I shook my head, I needed to figure out how to get Luce alone and find out what she knew.
But my concerns were quickly pushed aside as the class began and Mr Brownson talked us through the syllabus for the year. I found my attention divided between his words and Cole's unexpected engagement with the lecture material. His eyes were focused, his posture attentive, and there was an intelligence behind his gaze that I hadn't anticipated. Part of me had been looking forward to seeing how Cole would deal with Mr Brownson.
I had hated the English teacher at the beginning of last year. He was so particular about students being involved in the discussion, and had a talent for students who were trying to coast under the radar. A quality that after being the subject of his attention a few times, I realised that he was just wanting to get the best from each of us. A quality I had come to enjoy. As expected, he zeroed in on Cole. But instead of squirming under the teacher's scrutiny, Cole simply smiled.
"Mr. Bowers, I understand you're new to our class. Have you had a chance to look over the reading list?" Brownson asked, his tone challenging. Cole's smile widened.
"Actually, sir, I've already read through the entire list." A hushed murmur rippled through the classroom. I glanced at Luce, seeing my own shock mirrored in her expression.
"The whole list?" I whispered to Cole, unable to hide my disbelief. "There are over twenty books on there." Cole turned to me, his eyes glinting with something dangerous and alluring.
"Don't judge a book by its cover, Pet," he whispered with a wink before giving his attention back to Brownson. I felt a shiver run down my spine, my mind reeling with questions. How had he managed to read all those books in such a short time? Even with my love of reading, I still hadn't gotten through the whole list over the summer. So how did Cole get through it all, in at most a weekend? Unless he had somehow knew he was taking the class before the weekend. As the lecture continued, I found myself stealing glances at Cole, my curiosity warring with the fear that still lingered in my chest. The more I learned about these three guys, the more questions I had.
Before I knew it, English class had finished. As usual Luce and I packed up our belongings and filed out of class along with the other students with Cole at my back. Luce had Business Studies next while I had Creative Writing, so we prepared to part ways.
"Lunch in the square?" Luce asked, confirming our usual plans from last year. I was about to nod when Cole interrupted.
"Cade will be having lunch with the Regents from now on," he said in a matter of fact tone as my eyes widened.
"I'm sorry, what?" I asked. This was the first I had heard of it.
"You know the rules, Consort," Cole said, his voice holding a warning, not subtle enough for Luce to miss. Then he grinned at Luce. "But of course, you are welcome to join us." Luce looked terrified at the idea, but nodded her head quickly before excusing herself to get to class. I watched her go, a heavy weight settling in my stomach as I realised I was now alone again with Cole.
"Come on Pet, we are late for class," he said as he took my hand and pulled me in the direction of the next class.
"What, you are in that one too?" I asked, "I thought that you were just in English with me?"
"You are doing the English Writing and Publishing track," he said, "It aligns with my Media Studies more than you think. Come on, Logan won't like us to be late." He didn't give me any more chances to voice the million questions in my head before pulling me through the door of my next class.