Moses: And caramel chocolate, whatever types they have.
Theodore: They have like seven types.
Moses: It’s for Carter.
Theodore: I’ll get them all.
Oscar: Get some for me.
Theodore: No.
Oscar: Why the fuck not?
Cian: You aren’t cute enough.
Isobel smirked at her screen, casting a quick look around to make sure Sato wasn’t anywhere near her.
Isobel: It’s true. You aren’t.
“It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt,” Moses singsonged, a note of warning in his voice.
“Why is everyone so terrified of Sato anyway?” Isobel seized the opportunity to get more information on him from the Alpha who seemed to spend the most time with him, and to take her panicked mind off Eve. The guys were remarkably good at keeping cool heads in stressful situations … unless ferality was involved, and then all hell broke loose.
It was easier to mimic their forced ease—to distract herself with their interactions—than it was to confront what had just happened and what it meant for her moving forward.
Moses smirked, shaking his head. “I’m sure the fans appreciate your subtle attempt at gossiping for the cameras, but you’re going to have to try a little harder if it’s Oscar you want to gossip about.”
Her phone announced a new message, and she returned her attention to the screen.
Theodore: Oscar took the fucking snacks. I have to go back and get more.
Oscar: Flattery will get you everywhere.
Isobel: We’re sorry about before. You’re incredibly cute, Sato.
Moses: Incredibly.
Theodore: Gag.
Isobel: Can we have the snacks?
Oscar: Say please.
Isobel: Please.
Oscar: One more time.
Isobel: Please?
Oscar: Again.
Elijah: Stop it.
Gabriel: Are you two flirting?
Isobel: No.
Oscar: Yes.
Isobel: NO. Why would you even ask that?
Oscar: Because he doesn’t know what flirting looks like.
Elijah: What does flirting look like, Oscar?
Elijah: Here’s a hint: it doesn’t begin with “tor” and end in “ment”。
Moses: From here on out, I will be calling Oscar “kettle” and Elijah “pot”。
Gabriel: Moses has a point there.
Elijah: All three of you can shut up.
Isobel glanced up to find Moses biting back a smirk, his dark grey eyes swimming with humour as he read the messages. Cian stepped onto the platform before Isobel could glance back down at her phone, and he gave her a slight smile. His dusky golden skin was a little paler than usual, his hair pulled into a messy knot, his mouth tightening back into a hard line after attempting to smile at her.
“All good?” he asked her, dropping into the seat on her other side, even though it had Kilian’s name on it. His fingers played across her forearm, a gentle brush along the outside of her scar before his hand dropped to rest on his own thigh. It was almost like he wanted her to know that everything was normal with them, that all the tension in his expression wasn’t aimed at her.
She nodded, darting her attention over his shoulder for a brief moment, trying to catch sight of where Eve had situated herself. Instead, she saw Kilian and Niko trying to make their way through the crowd.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” Isobel lied, her eyes darting back to Cian’s sharp, sapphire gaze. “She’s back. Whatever.”
“Let’s not waste any time on her,” he agreed, a spark of satisfaction flashing across his angular features. “I’m sure the officials punished her suitably.” His eyes narrowed just slightly, several of the micro muscles in his face twitching before he wrestled his expression into something calm and unbothered. Despite all the effort, he couldn’t smooth out the deep dimple etched into his cheek, showcasing his displeasure. “And how about your bond? You haven’t been asking us to surrogate lately.”
She reared back an inch, wondering why he would bring that up with a camera staring at them head-on and microphones taped to the chairs.
“I’m surviving,” she hedged.
“You’re paler than usual, skinnier than usual, and Gabriel and Elijah both said you aren’t fulfilling all of your practice time. You keep leaving early like you don’t have the energy to keep going.”
She frowned at him. “I haven’t had much of an appetite and I’m a little weak at the moment. It’s no big deal.”
“What’s in your bag?” he asked, his tone combative.
What the heck?
“Stuff.” She frowned harder, and he tipped toward her, quickly tugging on the zipper until he could pull open her bag to peer inside.
“Tissues,” he noted. “Cough drops, pills—”
“Allergy medication and anti-inflammatories,” she corrected. “Not pills.”
“Who prescribed them?”
“Someone on my father’s team.”
“Exactly.” He zipped her bag back up, leaning away from her again, though he kept her trapped in his gaze. “But your bond specialist prescribed you something else, didn’t she?”
Isobel wanted to hit him.
He waited, and when she didn’t answer, his stern expression melted into a soft, wry smile. “We only have a bit over a week left until summer break. Have you thought about who you’re going to take home with you?”
She stilled. He was right.
They were almost at the end of the final term, and she had two impossible deadlines looming—deadlines she had conveniently forgotten about while she was getting over what Eve and Aron had done to her.
There was still the anonymous texter who had ordered her to find out how to get into the Icon club, and there was Wallis, whose life she was supposed to somehow ruin.
At first, she had naively hoped that Eve had been the texter, but despite Eve’s absence, the messages had continued. Usually, the texter just sent a number of days until the end of term, sometimes accompanied by an assurance not to fuck with them. Sometimes it was just a picture of her walking to class with her head tucked down. It was a constant effort to keep the pressure on her, to make sure she couldn’t forget.
“Wait.” She blinked away the heavy thoughts. “I can take someone home with me?”
“How else will you survive summer break?” Cian raised dark gold brows, his teeth flashing in a lazy smile.
“I hadn’t thought that far ahead,” she admitted. She couldn’t think past the impossible tasks ahead of her. “I’ll have to talk to my father about it.” Time was slipping away. She seemed to be stuck in the trauma of what Eve had done, unable to think too many steps into the future before the memories dragged her right back again, phantom pain shooting through her arms.
“Still hoping Prince Charming is going to walk into one of the settlements and report a funky eye colour?” Cian asked knowingly.
She rolled her eyes, trying to elbow him, but he only grabbed her elbow and then used it to pull her up to her feet. He tugged her onto his lap, his free hand quickly looping her legs to the side so she wouldn’t flash the cameras. She found herself sitting sideways, staring at Moses, who had glanced up from his phone at all the movement.
“Is that necessary?” Moses asked, sounding annoyed.