66. Thea
Thea
Of All the Mornings to Wake Up Pants-less
Iwake to warmth. Too much warmth. The air is thick and stifling, and as I blink into consciousness, I realize that Zair is pressed up against me from behind, his arms wrapped around me in a protective embrace.
His chest is flush against my back, and I can feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing, the heat radiating from him like a living shield.
B is sprawled across the other side, one hand holding mine as I sleep on his other arm. I hesitate, not wanting to disturb the peaceful silence between us. There’s something soothing about their warmth, about being surrounded by their presence, even if it’s a little too close for comfort.
For a moment, I just breathe, letting the sensation wash over me. A rare, unfamiliar contentment hums through my chest, soft and deep, as if some fractured part of me is finally piecing itself together. My soul feels steadier somehow. I could stay here forever.
Reality slowly creeps in. I really need to pee.
I carefully begin to untangle myself from the mess of limbs, my movements slow and deliberate as I try not to wake them.
Crawling over Zair’s body feels intimate, and my cheeks flush with heat, especially when I remember I’m not wearing any pants.
He stirs slightly, but doesn’t wake. B grumbles in his sleep, shifting a little, but remains blissfully unaware of my careful escape.
I shuffle toward the bathroom, breathing a quiet sigh of relief once I’m alone.
When I return, I decide to make myself some coffee.
I use the little Keurig machine I found while snooping around yesterday.
As the hot liquid swirls in my cup, I take a deep breath, letting silence settle over me.
There is a note on the counter from Mavrik that he went to run.
I wander to the window, hoping to catch the sunrise.
I nearly drop my cup when I notice a very large jaguar is curled up in front of the door, his sleek form unmistakable even in the faint morning light.
Ollin. I assume he’s sleeping until his head lifts, golden eyes meeting mine.
I smile, lifting my chin in a small, wordless invitation.
The scent of coffee fills the room as I settle onto the recliner, cradling my mug. Dylan’s snoring softens. His breathing shifts, and a moment later, his eyes blink open. I offer him a soft smile.
“Morning,” I whisper.
“How are you feeling today?” he asks, his voice thick with sleep.
“Safe,” I say with a smile. “Hard not to when you wake up in a dog pile.” I gesture to the bed where Zair and B are still sleeping.
Dylan’s smile spreads across his face, and I catch a glint of mischief in his eyes.
“We should mess with them.”
I shake my head, grinning. “Nah, they’re sweet.”
We fall into conversation about nothing.
Dylan and I don’t get much quiet time like this, and it’s nice, refreshing, even.
It feels different from the chaotic rush of everything that’s been happening.
We share little stories about our lives, and for the first time in a while, I feel like I’m breathing a little easier.
Just as we finish our first cup of coffee, a knock sounds at the door. Dylan stands, stretching, and opens it to find Ollin, now human and holding a small cardboard tray of to-go cups.
“I figured you might want something stronger than whatever that sad Keurig spits out,” Ollin says with a crooked grin, handing the cups over like a peace offering. “Also, they found your phones in the warehouse.” He passes them back to us.
B and Zair finally wake up, and the sight of them dazed, confused, and realizing I’m no longer in bed with them makes me chuckle under my breath. B looks completely normal after a good night’s sleep, his magic spark restored.
After coffee, we head to my dorm, tension creeping in as we brace for any traps Anita might’ve left behind.
“What’s with the tallies?” Dylan asks, eyeing the marks on the wall. I’m three short. I’ll add them after they leave.
“How many times I’ve stopped myself from killing you,” I reply sweetly.
The search takes longer than expected. My room’s small, but apparently full of potential hiding spots. Dylan, of course, insists on being a menace.
“I should probably check the underwear drawer. You know, for toys,” he says with a wag of his eyebrows.
I ignore him and stand to add the missing tallies.
The guys all laugh.
B is going through my books and I get a little frantic as he starts flipping through the books on the bottom shelf.
“Seriously, Thea,” he asks. “How can you sleep with all these books on massacres.”
“It’s only one massacre,” I counter. “And it soothes me to picture killing the Ashgraves.”
Ollin snorts. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that so I don’t have to report you.”
Once the place has been thoroughly torn apart, the guys head out to sweep B’s room, leaving me to clean up the wreckage.
I take my time. I’m surprised by how calm I feel, how not-tense I am, and I know exactly why.
It’s because of whose arms I slept in last night.
How broken am I that after just a few hours of peace I feel perfectly content?
When I walk into the library a short while later, I’m not surprised to see Zair already waiting. His eyes light up when he spots me, and he can’t hide the warmth in his smile.
“Should’ve known you wouldn’t go anywhere else,” he says, voice soft and teasing.
I spend the day digging deeper into soul magic. I’m trying not to let it show, but my little display at the warehouse terrified me. What am I? That was terrifying. I hope that B thinks he imagined it.
He and Dylan show up at our nook with lunch; looks like my secret spot is officially known now. Zair apologizes, but I get it. He needed somewhere to find me without drawing too much attention.
When Zair and Dylan go to look for a book, I can’t stop myself. I glance toward the doorway, my mind elsewhere. Wondering how Zair would feel if he knew I what I was. Wondering how Lazlo would feel.
I guess I understand now why I have a banshee for a mate.
“He said he’d wait,” B says quietly. I jerk my eyes to him, confused.
“I told him last night that I thought you weren’t the girl for him. And he said, ‘this isn’t a temporary thing.’” He shrugs a little, as if trying to downplay the weight of it. “I know Lazlo saved your life… but maybe you should give Zair a chance.”
His words hang heavy in the air, echoing in the back of my mind all day.
Not a temporary thing.
I don’t know what to do with that.
It keeps ringing in my head the rest of the afternoon. It only gets worse when the guys drag me to a pickup game, insisting that I’m not allowed to be alone.
I’ve been sitting there for a while, lost in my thoughts, barely pretending to read, when the bleachers rattle as someone approaches. I glance up quickly and audibly groan.
“I heard about your kidnapping,” Ethan’s voice slithers into my space, low and oily.
“Well, as you can see, I’m fine,” I tell him simply, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave me alone.
“If you hadn’t rejected me, you never would have been taken,” he drones, his tone darker now, almost gleeful at the idea.
“Really? What would you have done with magical cuffs on? You would’ve been useless. Well, more useless.”
“They put magical cuffs on you?” I can feel him recoil from the idea, but it isn’t concern — it’s offense, as if the insult was to him personally. “I would’ve killed them for touching you.” His voice drops, thick with dangerous promise. “I should kill them.”
A chill prickles at the back of my neck.
“Aren’t you glad I rejected you now?” I ask with a forced smile, knowing it’ll rattle him and hopefully push him away.
The silence stretches too long, taut and heavy. I almost think he’s gone.
We he speaks again, his voice scraping low and raw.
“You think those boys on the field can protect you?” he spits, venom curling his words. “You think they’ll keep you safe?”
He stalks away without waiting for a response.
I watch him go, my skin crawling. Ethan isn’t just angry. He’s cursed. Like B was.
Dammit. I have to save his sorry ass.
When I look at the field, I see B watching me. I give him a thumbs-up, trying to signal that everything’s fine. He doesn’t look convinced. It takes a shot nearly getting by him to finally pull his attention back to the game.
Unfortunately, after Ethan’s interruption, a stream of people trickles in. Spiritbornes asking about the kidnapping, hungry for gossip. Nightblinds whispering about me and B. By the time the boys head for the showers, I’m ready to set something on fire.
“You guys want cafeteria food or head down to the diner?” B asks, jogging up with wet hair and an easy smile.
“Diner,” I say immediately. “I’m tired of people.”
He laughs. “Yeah, I noticed you had an audience.”
We change direction, heading downhill toward town.
“Your eyes should’ve been on the game,” Dylan scolds. “Even Carter got one past you.”
“Well, excuse me for almost dying yesterday!” B retorts, then grins to show he’s mostly joking.
“I only saw two get by him,” I add. “So which of you didn’t score?”
Zair and Dylan start bickering even though I know they both did. I wink at B, and he falls into step beside me.
“What did Ethan want?” he asks under his breath.
“Same as always,” I mutter, brushing it off.
“He didn’t do anything like Friday, right? I didn’t see him touch you.”
“No. He didn’t bind or kiss me.”
The words taste like ash.
“He what!”
Mavrik, Dylan and Zair spin toward me. I wince. I guess with everything that happened I’d completely forgotten about Ethan till he showed up.
“Ethan hit me with a body-bind. Then kissed me.”
The silence that follows is sharp and loaded.
“I stopped him,” I add quickly, feeling heat rise in my chest.
Mavrik’s shadows grow more agitated than I’ve seen them. Dylan’s eyes flash gold. Zair turns red, like something inside him just broke.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Dylan’s voice comes out garbled around his canines.
Zair doesn’t speak. But his expression twists like I’ve betrayed him.
My pulse hammers as I glance at B, who’s already grimacing.
“I zapped him,” I say quietly. “I didn’t think it mattered. Not with everything else. I only told B because I ran into him right after.”
“Do you think he had anything to do with the kidnapping?” B asks.
“No. I actually think he’s cursed like B was. I need to figure out a way to get him to Professor Tennant,” I tell them.
“You want to save him?” Dylan asks, skeptical.
“Better than continuing to deal with him,” I reason.
We reach the diner, the neon buzzing overhead. B slides into a booth with Dylan, and I hesitate, glancing at Zair, who looks like he’s ready to murder someone. I slide in next to him as Mavrik pulls up a chair.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, eyeing the way he glares a hole through his menu.
“Just—” he grits out, “give me a moment.”
His moment takes most of dinner. But I can see the wheels turning. He’s definitely up to something. I want to reassure him that it was just a kiss and didn’t mean anything. But after I’ve so vehemently rejected his advances, I know he knows how much a kiss means to me.
After dinner, we split from the boys by my dorm because Zair insisting on walking me to my door and checking inside. However, once inside, he just pulls me into a hug.
“Don’t keep things like that from me, Thea. I can’t help you if I don’t know you’re in trouble.”
“I didn’t need your help,” I tell him. He still hasn’t let go.
“I know, but I needed to help you,” he says like it makes perfect sense. And strangely it does. He kisses my forehead and leaves me with butterflies.