Sauter (Ironside Academy, #3)(29)

Isobel hadn’t looked away from Cian, and he noticed. He also hadn’t dropped his shirt. He wasn’t even sitting up straight or trying to flex, and she couldn’t make out an inch of softness. It made sense now that she had seen what Easton liked to put them through.

His skin almost looked gold-brushed in the soft spotlight, smooth and taut. He bit into his lower lip and then released it, forcing a flush to rush to the lush curve, reddening the flesh. His bright eyes became hooded the longer she stared at him, and Kilian’s smirk against the back of her head melted into an outright laugh, shaking through his body and into hers, jolting her out of the spell Cian had cast over her.

Cian dropped his shirt, but his tattooed fingers brushed his muscles on the way down, making her focus narrow on the rings littering his fingers as she wondered what the cold metal would feel like if he gripped her skin.

Properly.

Not the small brushes he usually gave her.

She shook her head, trying to dislodge the thought, but it burrowed in deeper, digging claws into her and making her press her thighs together tightly. Kilian stopped laughing immediately, tugging her back until she was flush with his warm chest, his chin notching onto her shoulder again.

“Spade,” he said, his tone deeper than usual as he fixated on one of the comments. Gabriel tilted forward in his chair to listen to Kilian. “When are you going to debut a dance? We’ve been watching you and Reed practise for two years. Why are the Alphas being so secretive about their specialisations?”

“Pass.” Gabriel sat back, looking at the camera in a disapproving way. The comment section filled with immediate scoldings for whoever had asked such a “pushy” question. They were protective of Gabriel for some reason. Or maybe it was just the Alphas in general.

“Hart.” Isobel spotted Niko’s last name, holding her finger on the screen to keep her place since the comments were now flowing in much faster than she could keep up with. “Are you planning on specialising in tennis next year?”

“Nah.” Niko shook his head, tossing the platinum locks that slipped over his vision. He brushed both hands through his hair, pulling the bleached waves back as he shared a warm, secretive smile with the camera. “Next question.”

The comment section exploded.

@reed’s_rhapsody: NIKO HART HAS A SECRET SPECIALISATION? WHAT IS GOING ON?

@kannoisseur: Why does Sato look like the only snack he’s playing for is sitting in Gray’s lap? Can’t tell if I’m turned on or terrified.

@wildestdreamer: Not Niko Hart over here playing 3D chess and making even the fifth-year Icon contestants look unprepared.

@tune_tracker: Niko Hart can specialise in me if he has nothing else going on.

“Carter.” Kilian found a question for her amidst the chaos. “Are you being bullied by the Omegas?”

“No.” Isobel forced a light laugh, wishing she was half as good of an actor as Theodore, or Niko, who seemed able to turn his charm off and on just as easily. “It’s all just normal, healthy competition.”

The comments immediately turned to questions about Eve and Aron, and what happened in Vermont, but Kilian quickly flicked past them all, pausing on one that seemed to be addressed to Reed instead.

“Reed.” She cleared her throat. “Why do you think they let Eve Indie back into Ironside? Wasn’t she there when Carter—when I was attacked in Vermont?”

Elijah blinked, looking down at the camera over the rim of his glasses. He hadn’t been wearing them when he sat down. Maybe he hoped they would be an extra barrier against the camera. “What does that have to do with me?”

“I think that’s a pass,” Kilian mumbled as the “cold” emoji started to pepper the comment section again, the rest of the comments admonishing the poster for such a triggering question. “Moses, what did you think of your kiss with Carter? People are saying you’ve never had a girlfriend before. Is that true?”

“My brother dated every girl in our year group back in the settlement,” Moses said blandly. “And I’m not into sharing.” His image on screen cocked a challenging brow. “Did I kiss Carter? When?”

Cue another onslaught of cold emojis.

“Answer or pass,” Reed inserted, his tone droll.

Instead of snapping at Reed, Moses relaxed further back into his chair, lifting a tanned hand to stroke his scarred chin. His stormy eyes narrowed in thought, one of his legs kicking up to notch against the edge of the chair, his knee swinging distractedly back and forth.

“Pass,” he eventually said, the shadow of a smile ghosting his lips, like he knew he had just driven everyone into a frenzy thinking he might actually answer the question.

Isobel squirmed on Kilian’s lap, realising the screen had switched to a split view again, showing her own face. “Sato,” she said quickly, picking a question and then pausing … wishing she had proofed it first. “Why did you …” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Did you offer to be Carter’s—I mean my surrogate?”

“Pass.” He answered instantly, giving the camera the same deadpan stare, his hood still up, his eyes slitted. He was going to lose the game at this point.

Isobel knew her face was bleeding red, but Kilian was already moving on.

“Theodore, who’s your favourite Alpha?”