Chapter 27 #3
I keep my eyes fixed on her alone, talking over the noise her disciples make. “Food shaming seems beneath you, but it’s also not the reason you’re here. What gives?”
By her reaction, I can tell that she thought I wouldn’t dare answer her.
A flash of danger and cruelty races across her features before she masks her true feelings behind an angelic smile.
Which is weird because I’m pretty sure everyone here knows or has experienced firsthand her unique brand of harassment.
She waves her hand around, and like a conductor, her supporters fall quiet. “What gives? I’ll pray for you. Hopefully, then one day, you’ll get a better handle on the language we use.”
“No need to pray for me,” I interrupt her, spurred on by a blaze of inner confidence. It seems my mouth is running faster than my thoughts. “I don’t think our faith or morals are in sync.”
Michael’s hand wraps around her arm, in support and warning. He takes a protective step in front of her, while her other most loyal supporters adjust their stances too. Do they seriously think I would take them on in a fight?
“Come on, Maya, let’s go,” Orion says quietly, knowing each word I say is only making things worse.
But bad is bad, and I’m already going to be facing her wrath. So I wave him back, finally glad to have the crowd’s attention on me so they realize what type of person she is. And if she attacks, the more witnesses the better.
She scoffs, shaking her head as she sidesteps Michael. “I heard you were quite the actress and all this,”—she waves her hand—“only confirms it. Besides, I was simply coming over to give you a friendly heads-up that the auction is done. I’ll introduce you to your new owner at the party.”
“The fuck you will,” I hiss.
“Ugh, and you’re vulgar. What a surprise.” She makes a noise, like I’m testing her patience. “And before you get all caught up in semantics, all Noms are now expected to attend tomorrow’s full moon party.”
Behind me, from the entire Nom section, a wall of shock rises. I don’t get the time to twist around to see what’s going on, because I’m more worried about myself. Seraphina turns and walks off, and like the sheep they are, her flock follow her, hurling abuse as they go.
It takes a while until the space around our table clears, but it doesn’t truly empty, because at the back—or maybe they were in the thick of it and I simply didn’t see them—stand Arlan, Emrys, and Bael.
I read their emotions using their auras. Bael’s darkness pools on the floor, spreading its reach far and wide, and the intense color of it and his eyes reflects his mood.
My pulse quickens, spurred on by the first time we met, but also by the malevolence he does little to disguise.
He stands next to Arlan, who is drinking me in.
When he grins, he makes sure I see the tip of his gleaming white fangs.
The threat in the gesture is as obvious as when he actually carried through and bit me without permission.
I move from him to Emrys, who is right next to him, holding his phone in his hand. His energy is like a storm—disappointment and contempt swirling above him.
Clearly, he blames me for something.
Despite his roiling emotions, the purple strands of his aura close the distance between us and curl around my ankles.
I should freak out that he’s touching me, but despite his obvious disdain, his aura settles me.
Which makes no sense, and all it means is that I don’t focus my attention on the smaller details.
I keep it locked on the bigger picture—on them.
“Why are you all looking at me like that?”
“I was right all along,” Emrys says quietly. “I didn’t want to be, but a video is worth a thousand words.”
Any confidence I feel plummets at the way he speaks. It’s cold and controlled, despite the low volume being seductively intimate. I’ve seen him angry, felt his rage rain down on me, but this is something else entirely. It also makes no sense.
“What do you mean by video? I haven’t done anything!”
His eyes don’t move from mine. “And yet this clearly suggests differently.”
I shake my head, not agreeing, trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about. “You’re freaking me out, Emrys.”
I talk like there is a connection and history between us, which is not true at all.
While I know that fact with every fiber of my being, it’s like we have something between us, which is illogical.
They’re holding my belongings ransom, for shit’s sake.
These are not men I can trust, but like nearly everything at Thales, including them, there’s a hidden knowledge that not everything is as it seems.
Emrys breaks the moment we share, his focus moving back to his phone. Whatever he’s watching, he doesn’t like what he sees.
Without looking up from his screen, he walks away. Whatever was between us has changed.
My gaze jumps to Arlan, who shrugs. “Don’t flatter yourself. It’s in my nature to take. I over exaggerated how you tasted, though.”
His words strike as intended, and I fight not to raise a hand to my chest. The tightness there somehow grips even more painfully.
Bael’s reaction is purely his own; he’s enjoying every second of the tension and conflict. Unlike Emrys he’s very aware of his essence, and he makes sure I know it too. The void he wields slashes like a smoky whip so close to the tip of my nose, my hair moves.
His parting shot is as easy to understand as Arlan’s and cuts as deep as Emrys’. My knees tremble under the weight of their loud, public rejection.
The spectacle of Thales’s best students cutting me down to size draws a crowd. I know the celestial duo is involved on some level. I also know they wouldn’t have missed watching their delivery or my reaction.
It takes a moment to find both Seraphina and Michael, and when I do, I wish I hadn’t.
Michael is all smiles as he claps Emrys’ shoulder before shaking hands with Arlan.
He quickly falls into conversation with them both.
Bael is already at Seraphina’s side, his smoke wrapped around her.
She squeals as the darkness pulls her across the very short distance that separates them.
For some inexplicable reason, Bael checks over his shoulder, making sure I’m watching.
That is my limit.
Not them hooking up; it’s not my business.
But Bael wishing to witness my reaction comes from a place of callous intentions or demonic desire.
I won’t waste my time trying to understand his motivation, but removing myself from the situation is something I can do.
It’s also the first step in regaining my power that everyone is so keen to strip.
So I turn so fast my head spins. “Orion, I’ve lost my appetite, I’ll meet you back at the dorms.”
I don’t give Orion the opportunity to respond, but he does anyway. He grabs me mid-step and tugs me into his arms, holding me tight as if preventing me from falling apart. “I’m right behind you, May-May. I’ll just grab us something for later.”
Though I force myself not to run, everyone knows that’s exactly what I’m doing. Humiliation pounds in my ears, but not loud enough for me to miss the angry taunts from every person close by. And considering I only pass other Noms, it’s the final straw.