Chapter 3 Felicity
CHAPTER THREE
felicity
Isettle into the hard-backed chair of the lecture hall for Comparative Political Legacies, tapping the tip of my pencil against the desk in front of me.
The professor—some wizened old fart in a gray pea coat—drones on and on about the importance of bloodlines and dynasties, and how those families helped form the Paranormal Council—the same council my grandfather is gunning for the human seat on.
I fight back a yawn, letting his voice fade into an irritable buzz, flying in one ear and out the other.
I’m not sure why, but I expected it would be harder to settle back into the routine of things than it is. I thought I would miss Dizzy, that I’d be miserable, and hate how my family continues to see me as nothing but a commodity to increase their social standing and political power.
But it all just feels the same.
My days are filled with lectures and monotony, leaving me drained and listless, wishing I was anywhere else. All the other students have been giving me a wide berth, acting like if they breathe too closely to me, they’ll be the next ones pulled from the school.
Honestly, it all feels just like it did before Dizzy, so I guess it shouldn’t be such a shock.
The only break from the overwhelming gray scale of it all has been the feeling of someone watching me. I’m not sure how much of it is paranoia, but I can feel their gaze fixed on me, the skin on the back of my neck warming, each hair standing on end.
Sometimes, I’ll turn and look, searching the dimly lit hallways. But there’s never anybody there except dense shadows that refuse to give up their secrets.
Every time it happens, I can’t help but think of the warlock with the golden eyes. Even a week later, I can still hear the echo of his low voice rumbling in my ear, that icy touch stroking over my back.
He’s a stranger, so I don’t get why I’m so certain he’s the one watching me. It sounds crazy, but it feels like him. Yet, whenever I whirl around to catch him in the act, he’s never there. Instead, there are only shifting shadows—murky and deep, like they’re concealing hidden truths.
It’s tempting to ask around about him—a tall warlock with golden eyes is a memorable sight—but I keep my mouth shut, knowing it will only take one wrong question for rumors to start spreading.
A gut instinct warns me that the guy is trouble, and I can’t afford to invite anymore drama into my life.
Not with my family’s threats hanging over my head.
If I play my cards well, I might be able to get complete control of my trust fund, and I can just leave. If I do this right, I can get through the punishment and disappear, never looking back.
I’m startled out of my thoughts when a large body slips into the seat next to mine, a thigh brushing up against mine as they spread their legs, taking up far more room than socially acceptable.
I press my knees together to try to eliminate the contact, but the leg chases mine, pressing tighter against me. The person is scorching hot, searing my skin, even through the layers separating us, and a tremor runs through me.
“Do you mind—” I break off with a gasp as I look up, my stare clashing with sharp green eyes. Connor. His blond hair, shaved around the sides and longer on the top, is flopping over his forehead as he watches me, something savage and intense in his stare.
Wild.
Resentment fills my chest as I remember the last time I saw him, his eyes wide as he barged into my locked dorm room. I can hear my mother’s voice in my head, insisting that I need to bridge the gap between me and him, but there’s nothing in me that wants to do it.
“Morning, Felicity.” He flashes his white teeth in a smile, his canines slightly longer—sharper—than the rest of his teeth.
I slide a glance down at the professor, making sure he isn’t paying any attention to us, and then focus back on Connor. “What do you want?” I hiss nastily. “Don’t you think you’ve done enough to me?”
Any sign of congeniality falls away from Connor’s expression, his eyes hardening, something feral slithering through his stare.
Most supernatural species look wholly human, meaning it’s almost impossible to tell what they are and what they can do unless you are already in the know.
But my grandfather makes it his business to know, and if there is one thing he’s ever given me, it’s that skill.
The Thorntons—Connor’s family—are a prestigious wolf shifter family that have held their seat on the Paranormal Council for the last hundred years.
Connor leans right into my personal bubble, his face filling my vision, blocking everything else out. “You haven’t seen anything yet, Flick,” he says, the baritone of his voice deepening, sending a shiver running through me, a wisp of something curling tight low in my stomach.
I narrow my eyes, pretending to be impervious to the danger emanating from him. “Leave me alone,” I order coolly, lifting an imperious eyebrow. “We have nothing to say to each other.”
He leans back in his seat, his thigh still pressed firmly to mine, and slings his arm over my chair. Connor’s fingers trail over my arm, tracing the hem of the short sleeve of my shirt. I jerk away once more, trying to shake him off, but all it does is make his smirk grow.
I resolutely turn away, focusing on the professor’s droning voice, ignoring the way Connor keeps touching me like he has a right to.
When the lecture is over, I clumsily pack up belongings and make a run for the door, desperate to get away from him.
As soon as I hit the hallway, a large hand wraps around my upper arm, drawing me to an abrupt halt.
“What’s the rush, Starling?” Connor’s chest presses against my back, his fingers pulsing against my arm. “We have so much to talk about.”
Other students are spilling out of the lecture hall, parting around us like a current. They shoot us a mix of curious stares and suspicious glances, and my face goes hot.
If this last week has proven anything, it’s that everyone knows what went down with Dizzy. Everyone. And being seen with Connor Thornton wrapped around me right now is only going to make everything worse.
I duck my head, hiding behind the dark fall of my hair. “Let me go,” I demand breathlessly, eyes desperately dancing around, searching for an excuse, an escape.
The crown of my head only just reaches Connor’s shoulder as he wraps his other arm around my chest, yanking me against him so tightly there’s no space at all. I freeze, my breath catching in my throat as I feel something hard pressing into my back.
He bends down, his lips brushing against the edge of my ear. “I don’t think I will.” Connor exhales, his breath hot, and something dewy settles between my legs. He rolls his hips in a sensuous movement, making sure I don’t miss what’s happening—as if I could.
I shake my head—a denial, a plea. “Connor,” I gasp out. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.”
He chuckles darkly. “We’ll see, Starling,” he murmurs affectionately, his hand sliding up my arm to my neck, cupping my throat, fingers gently stroking my rapidly fluttering pulse.
My mouth opens, the argument on the tip of my tongue, but then he’s untwining himself from me. I turn just in time to catch him blatantly adjusting himself, lodging the head of his dick behind his belt buckle. He sees my wide eyes and winks.
“Can’t be advertising the merchandise, can I?” Connor asks as he pulls his shirt down to cover the bulge. “After all, I’m no longer for sale.”
I don’t know what that means, and I give a wild shake of my head. A throat clears, pulling my attention around to find Selena Thierra standing there, her hazel eyes glowing as they laser in on Connor.
My stomach clenches, but when I try to step away, he grabs me again, his fingers uncomfortably tight as he holds me prisoner. Connor tuts his tongue, his expression full of mocking disappointment. “I didn’t say you could move away.”
My face is so hot it feels like it’s on fire.
Selena’s brows furrow, her eyes darting between the two of us before dropping to where his hand is locked on my arm with bruising force.
She shakes it off, a coy smile lifting up her pink-glossed lips as she steps closer, dismissing me as she focuses on Connor.
“Hey, handsome,” she coos. I scrunch my nose up, irritation bubbling at the sound of the sugary-sweet tone. “I’ve been looking all over for you. I wanted to see if you’ve thought any more about my offer.”
Selena juts out a hip, chest pushed forward like she’s presenting herself for his inspection.
Her nipples poke brazenly through the thin fabric of her crop top, and my stare drops like it’s being pulled by a magnet.
I’m not attracted to her, not even a little bit. But there’s just nowhere else to look.
I bite back a scoff. Bartholomew University has been around for longer than most people have been alive, and the architecture feels like it was designed to trap the cold in. It’s colder in this drafty hallway than it is outside, but Selena clearly dressed with an agenda today.
I desperately drag my eyes away and find Connor staring down at me, a gentle smile on his lips, a flash of fang showing. Inhaling sharply, my lungs fill with his scent—wood, smoke, and lust—and it sends a pulse shooting through my body, landing right between my legs.
I can’t deny that there’s something between us—attraction, chemistry—but that doesn’t mean I want him. It’s just—God, he smells like ambrosia wrapped in chocolate. Saliva pools in my mouth.
“Connor?” Selena prompts, her expression falling slightly before she smooths it out.
“I’m sorry,” he says politely, sending her a brief, bemused blink. “Who are you?” He doesn’t even wait for her to answer before looking back down at me.