Kilian pulled his phone out, resting it on Isobel’s thigh as he pulled her tighter back against him, notching his chin on her shoulder to look at his screen. He brought up the live broadcast and scrolled to the chat, where the comments were flooding in. Isobel pretended to be reading them as well, but her mind was already wandering.
Maybe Moses wouldn’t make her go through with trying to ruin Wallis’ life?
She cut her eyes past Theodore, taking in Moses’ lounging posture and dark, brooding expression. He sighed out an unhappy sound, diverting his attention from the movie and tipping his head forward to peer down the line of chairs. He seemed to be looking at Sato, but then his eyes slid to her. She quickly looked away.
“Hands off snacks, people. Pile them in the middle,” Moses suddenly ordered, unfurling from his chair, and setting down the food he had brought over.
The others followed suit without question, and Kilian put his phone down, releasing Isobel. She added her paper cones to the growing pile, Kilian dropped the one, small cardboard box he had brought over, and then he scooped her up again. The movement was so effortless, making her feel light as air as he sat down and cuddled her into his lap again.
“Okay, so winner gets all the snacks,” Cian said, reading his phone. “Loser has to give everyone massages through the second half of the movie.” He glanced up at Moses’ scoff. “That one came from the comments, not me. Who wants to MC?”
“We’ll do it.” Kilian pulled up his phone again, tapping back into the comments section. “First confession is for Kane.” He lifted his eyes to Theodore. “When are you going to sing again?”
“I didn’t realise anyone wanted me to sing again,” Theodore answered, smiling right at the camera aimed at his face.
Kilian scrolled back up to the live video, and Isobel swallowed at the image of Theodore on the screen. He looked beyond flattered. Touched. Ecstatic. His wide, perfect smile and twinkling eyes had her stomach flipping all over the place, his stormy gaze so beautiful she wasn’t even surprised to see links to the Gifted contact store popping up in the comments. They had released a special edition contact called Kane – A Perfect Storm （Light Edition）。 She guessed Moses would be the “dark edition.”
“Crushing much?” Kilian whispered, the words stirring her hair gently.
She tunnelled her elbow into his gut, making him grunt and almost drop the phone. He chuckled, skipping through the comment section as it flowed with overenthusiastic responses to Theodore’s answer. Several of them mentioned Consolidation Day, which marked the end of their final term and the start of the summer break. They were begging him to give them a concert even though the Consolidation Day concert was always hosted by the fifth-year Icon contestants.
It was also in ten days. Another reminder that her time was running out.
“Your turn,” Kilian muttered.
She picked a question at random, seeing Kilian’s last name. “Gray: Is physical touch your love language?”
Kilian chuckled, his arm wrapping even tighter around her. It was actually kind of … adorable.
“Is it that obvious?” he asked his camera. Isobel kept her attention on the phone but scrolled up to see that her and Kilian had replaced the image of Theodore. Kilian was pouting at the camera, his beautifully curved lips making her heart skip a few frantic beats before melting into a pathetic pile of goo.
“He’s a clingy motherf—uh … guy,” Cian said. “I’m surprised he didn’t immediately pass on the question just so that he can lose and give us all massages.”
A few of the other Alphas chuckled, but Isobel was too distracted by the comment section, and just how many people were saying that Kilian was the most precious, most adorable man in the world, that he had to be protected at all costs, and that all the other Alphas must secretly love when he clings to them, because you would have to be dead inside to not love Kilian.
Wow.
“Okay, next.” Kilian flicked past all the comments, uncaring of the overwhelming praise aimed at him, weeding out the questions in between the compliments. “Sato: Do you have a Gifted ability?”
“Pass.” Sato stared his camera head-on, and the comment section filled up with emojis.
Isobel laughed before she could help herself because everyone was using the same emoji. The blue frozen face with ice dripping from it. It must have been some kind of inside joke that the Ironside fans had started, because suddenly, the comment section was a wall of blue. The Sato on screen was looking to the right, and the screen was split to also show herself and Kilian … who were sitting to his right, with only Cian separating them.
She could feel Sato’s attention like a physical caress against her cheek. It was hot. Searing. Kilian hid a smirk against her hair, but she could still see his eyes smiling on screen.
“Okay, next.” She cleared her throat, ignoring Sato. “Ashford: How many tattoos do you have now, and do you plan on getting more?”
Cian lifted his shirt, revealing ink covering his side, stretching so far that she couldn’t see the top of it, the base of the design disappearing beneath the waistband of his pants. The slightest hint of his nipple piercing glinted at her before he covered it with his knuckle. She could make out geometric patterns and other designs woven between, with random objects hidden in the details—like falling bullets, twisting snakes, a hanging birdcage, or a constellation of stars—but she was too shocked at the sheer amount of ink on display that she barely even categorised a single one of them in detail.
“I added a few over the break,” he said. “The officials gave me special permission to have the rest done at the parlour on Ironside Row. It was a reward for agreeing to become Carter’s main surrogate.”
Moses scoffed loudly. “Her main surrogate?”
“That’s not a thing,” Theodore said, sounding calm. Mildly amused. “What about everyone else?”
“Not all of us are her surrogates.” Niko cleared his throat, sounding uncomfortable. “Better clear that up.”
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.