Chapter 34
The past twoweeks have been a whirlwind of sweetness that comes in the form of two men. My mates. The men I am lucky enough to spend the rest of my life with. No matter how long that is.
Given what I am, it may not be long if anyone finds out, but we’ll make every minute count. That’s all we can really do.
A buzz seems to be spreading through the academy, every student exuding excitement over something. I just wish I was in the know so I could be excited, too. Or, you know, scared. Because it could go either way when it comes to me.
The chatter in the dining hall is louder than I’ve ever heard it before, and people are mingling at tables they don’t usually sit at. And all it does is confirm the thought that something big is going down. Someone is going to need to spill the tea soon before I combust.
There’s one person who will, and she’s currently sitting at our table, waving big arms around to garner my attention. An infectious smile lights up her face with whatever she has to share, and as much as I want to rush over there and let her tell me, I need food.
Barely anyone is waiting in line to hit the buffet, and I make it through quickly, my tray piled to the max with grub. Marion is practically bouncing in her seat by the time I get there, her need to tell me what’s going on overpowering her need to eat. Her tray is still full, and I think it’s the first time she hasn’t been through at least half of it by the time I’ve sat down.
I can see in her eyes that she’s begging me to ask what has her so excited, so I ignore her, slowly putting bites of food in my mouth and chewing slowly. Small moans slip from my lips, an exaggeration on my part just to piss my bestie off.
And damn, does it work.
“Dammit, Bails.” She smacks her hands to the tabletop. “Stop being a bitch and ask already.”
I snort mid-bite, the food catching in my throat. Coughs rack my body, tears leaking from my eyes before a hard hand smacks my back a few times, and the food clears.
“Thanks.” I peer up, thanking whoever saved me, only to come face to face with Professor Asshole himself.
“You’re welcome, mate,” he mutters, but before he can leave, I hiss, “You don’t have the right to call me that.”
“I know,” he murmurs sadly before taking his leave, heading back to his side of the dining hall.
A shiver that I wish was more disgust than excitement nips down my spine, but before I can analyze why, I turn back to Marion, forgetting he was even here.
“Alright, fine, Mare-bear,” I rasp, my throat dry and scratchy. “What has you so excited?”
She squeals, bouncing in her seat once more. The nearby tables turn toward us, causing me to duck my head so they’ll ignore us. When they return to their own breakfast, Marion lurches across the table, grabbing my hands.
“The annual gala is coming up!” A few people cheer at her words, and the dining hall chatter ramps up once more.
The what? This is the first I’ve heard of it.
“Bails, please tell me those yummy men of yours have mentioned the annual veil-shattering gala.” I shake my head, wisps of hair falling from my high ponytail. She gapes at me before mumbling, “I’m going to beat their asses.” Then, louder for me, she says, “It’s a big party at the council building we hold every year to celebrate the day we came out of the shadows. Everyone attends, and the party lasts well into the next day.”
“So then, why don’t they just call it a party? Gala sounds too… formal.” I shrug, not all that interested in attending something where there will be so many people.
“Because it is formal, silly. The men wear suits and tuxedos. The women wear fancy gowns. It’s the one time of year when all the big designers showcase their work while we celebrate.”
I grimace. “Is it mandatory? Cause that really doesn’t sound like a good time to me. I’m not into all that stuffy shit. Plus, you’ll have your date, or you know, dates…” I trail off, nodding toward the table with the shifters listening intently to every word we’re saying even though we’re talking quieter than most. “And I don’t want to feel like a sixth wheel.”
“Those assholes?” Growls from the next table over punctuate her words, only confirming my suspicion. “Nope. I’m done with them. They need to learn how to treat a lady.” She fluffs her hair. “And I don’t mean like a damn weak princess. I’m stronger than all of them, yet they treat me like I’m fragile and can’t handle my own shit. Jokes on them, though.”
“Okay.” I lean closer, and so does she. “So if you’re not going with them, who are you going with?”
“Hudson.” I rear back, not expecting that to be her answer.
“Your brother?”
“Yep,” she pops the P, stuffing what looks like a piece of sausage in her mouth. After swallowing, she continues. “He isn’t taking a date,” she levels me with a pointed look, “and neither am I. He’s family, so why not?”
Um. There are a million reasons why I can tell her why not, but I swallow them down along with the bacon I was chewing on.
“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to go. I haven’t been in this world long, and I don’t know. I’ll feel like an interloper celebrating something that has nothing to do with me.”
“An interloper? Dude, you should have been here the whole damn time. You should have grown up in this world. Just come. Please.” Marion puts her hands together in prayer form, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout.
“We’ll see, Mare-bear. But if the guys don’t ask me, I don’t want to go alone.”
She snorts, waving her hand. “They’ll ask you. I have no doubt about that. They’ve been glued to your ass more and more recently, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Plus, being who they are, I know they’ll be there. But if they don’t invite you as their date, I’ll knock some sense into them.”
Now that’s something I’d love to watch. Not that she’d get far. She’s strong, I’ll give her that. But my men, they surpass her by leaps and bounds.
The bell rings overhead, and almost every person in the dining hall groans, knowing they need to head to class. That chat time is over, and they’ll have to wait until the end of the day to continue their excitement over the upcoming festivities.
“Shit. Gotta jet. Forgot we have Combat this morning. Text me later, and we’ll talk about what we should wear.”
Before I can reply, she bustles out of the dining hall, grumpy shifters following every step behind her. The door slams behind her, and I snicker when the guys clamber over each other, trying to shove out the door at the same time.
Idiots.
As I head toward my first class of the morning, all I can think about is if going to something like this is a mistake. I understand that I should have been in this world from the beginning like Marion said. But something about it just feels insanely wrong. Maybe it’s because, for the longest time, I was against the supernaturals being present in the first place. Or that I had an insane hate toward them. Things have changed since then, but still.
Now, I just don’t feel like I belong because I’m so damn different.
Finally.
I breathe a sigh of relief as the professor dismisses us from what is technically my last class of the day. Self-study should take me to the library, but I just can’t do it today. Everything aches, and my feet drag across the stone floor, wariness and tiredness fighting for dominance over my mind.
All anyone can talk about is this gala, and class was no different. Even the professors showed their excitement over the upcoming event. The more they spoke about it, the more it solidified in my mind that I was not going to attend.
Students shoot past me in the halls, their phones in their ears as they make preparations for what they’re going to wear. Who they’re going with. How they’re getting there. It’s all just becoming too much.
Every time I hear the world gala now, I cringe, rushing to get away from it. But that just wasn’t possible in class, so I was forced to listen to it all. Not anymore, though. Now all I have to look forward to is the silence of my room and the absence of that damn word.
It isn’t until I stop out front of my dorm room that I realize something is wrong. There’s a crack in the door when I know damn well I shut and locked it before I went to breakfast. An ominous glow seeps from around the crack, sending fear zipping down my spine.
Instead of retreating like I know I should—or, you know, calling someone to deal with this—my feet take me forward, and I reach out, slowly pushing the door open. This could be the dumbest or bravest thing I’ve ever done. Probably both.
I swear if a bad guy pops out and kills me, someone better put ‘should have known better’ on my gravestone.
With every inch the door opens, the glow from within brightens, illuminating the semi-darkened space. During the middle of the night is the only time I think I’ve ever seen my dorm cast in so many shadows. Not during the day. Not when the sun should be shining from the windows.
I don’t pass the threshold, knowing that if I need to run, it’s better not to already be inside the space. Someone could be hiding behind the door, and they’d slam it shut the moment I fully entered the room. I may not be the wisest person in the world—ergo, the stupidity I’m exuding now—but I’m not that stupid.
“Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me,” I mumble under my breath as my magic coils under my skin, ready to strike. And this is the first time I’m not afraid to use it. If someone gets burned, well, they should have stayed the hell out of my room.
My eyes slowly adjust to the semi-darkness permeating the space, and it’s then I can make out lit candles scattered over almost every surface, while rose petals in pinks, reds, and whites litter the floor, making a trail toward the middle of the room where my mates stand, dressed in slacks and nice shirts, each holding a single red rose.
A sob catches in my throat as my hands fly to my face, covering my mouth and trying to hide my emotions. But I should have known better that it wouldn’t happen. Tears well in my eyes and track down my cheeks as they step forward, each with a hand stretched out, beckoning me to come to them.
My magic slowly slithers back into its place behind my heart with each step I take toward my mates. Axel’s shirt matches his blood red eyes—not that I’d expect anything less from my sweet vampire. His blond locks are pulled back in a bun on top of his head, and his fangs are front and center as he smiles widely at me.
Luka’s smile is just as bright when my gaze trails to him next. Like Axel, Luka’s upper body is encased in a dark navy shirt that matches his eyes, and his black hair is spiked up instead of brushing across his forehead.
Damn. I’m one lucky girl.
All tiredness from before flees me as I come to a stop in front of them. But I must still be too far away as they reach for me simultaneously. In their arms, sandwiched between them, is the one place where I truly feel like I belong. I can’t hold back the sobs as they rip from my chest over the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.
“What’s all this?” I choke out, fisting their shirts and holding them against me.
“Well.” Axel steps back, but I don’t let him get too far away. Luka tries to follow, but I band my arm around his waist, holding on for dear life. “Cor meum, we couldn’t think of a better way to ask our mate if she’d be our date to the veil-shattering gala.”
I groan and then wince when I see Axel’s face fall. “I didn’t mean it like that.” I shake my head, reaching out for him. He comes willingly, even though he’s lost the smile on his face. “It’s just that that’s all I’ve heard about all day, and I swore my room was safe from any gala talk.”
“If you don’t want to go, it’s okay, goddess. Axel and I will completely understand. We just wanted to take our mate out and show off how proud we are to be with you.”
Well, damn. Now, I feel like the biggest asshole.
What would it really hurt if I went to this thing? It’s not like someone will take one look at me and know that I don’t belong. Even though I truly do in a normal sense. Plus, getting to see my mates all dressed up like that? I’d be stupid to say no.
“Ask me again.” I shove them both away, backing up a few steps.
“What?” Axel asks incredulously, darting his gaze to Luka and then back to me.
“Ask. Me. Again.”
Luka chuckles at my words and smacks Axel on the chest before dropping to a knee and holding the rose out. That kicks Axel into gear, and he drops, too, his rose clutched in his white-knuckled grip.
“Bailey, will you do us the honor of attending the annual veil-shattering gala as our date?”
More tears trail down my cheeks as I tap my lip, playing like I’m contemplating my answer. Axel starts to fidget from where he’s kneeling on the floor, but the smile on Luka’s face never slips. I swear that man can read me better than I can read myself.
“I guess.” I shrug a shoulder, feigning nonchalance when, really, I’m squealing inside. This morning, I wasn’t excited about the prospect of the gala, but all it took was two handsome men to change my mind.
“You… you guess?” Axel sputters, his blood red eyes wide with disbelief.
“Silly vampy.” I drop down in front of him, cupping his chilly cheeks. “Yes.” I look over at Luka. “Yes, to both of you.”
“Mmmm, I knew you couldn’t resist all this.” Luka makes a show of running his hand across what I know is an impressive 8-pack beneath his blue shirt. Axel chuckles as leans over and smacks the back of his head. “Ow, fucker. Not the hair.”
A watery giggle slips out before both men sandwich me between them, raining kisses down all over my face.
It’s a moment like this that makes me want to go back to that lagoon, smack my human self upside the damn head, and tell past me to lose the horrid thoughts when it comes to supernaturals. They’ve always been depicted one way to those in the human sectors, but I’ve come to learn that they’re nothing like what we’ve been taught. They’re, dare I say, better.
“My mother is going to be so excited to meet you.”
Ex-fuggin-scuse me?
Is it too late to retract that better statement?
Yeah?
Damn.