“Why can’t he learn to manage me, instead?” she grumbled.
Easton smiled—his first full, real smile since they had begun talking, and even though it twisted all his scars and made the shadows beneath his eyes even darker, she felt something in her chest flip, the hollow ache inside her turning just that little bit more painful.
“I’m afraid Oscar has a habit of breaking his toys,” Easton warned.
Isobel groaned. This again. “I’m not a toy.”
Easton’s smile dropped away, and he leaned forward again. “You’re a born and bred puppet, Carter. I’m not saying that to be cruel. I’m saying it because it’s the truth. You’re a toy to anyone who wants to play with you. Whether you let them or not—well, that’s the part that’s up to you. I’ll protect you from the other Gifted, from the psychotic bitch who hurt you, from your asshole of a father, and from the officials at Ironside … but you’re going to need to protect yourself against the other Alphas. Decide your boundaries. Make them clear. Learn how to manage the volatile personalities and find your space with the peaceful ones. Nobody else is going to do that for you. We have too much respect for each other to dictate how you interact with each of us. Those are our boundaries. Am I clear?”
“Crystal.” She chewed her lip, and his eyes flashed with amusement, as though he knew she had more to say. Eventually, she just blurted, “Everyone calls you Mikki.”
“You’ll have to earn that,” he said, standing, his eyes passing over her. “Floor exercises only for the rest of the session. I don’t want to see you back on that treadmill and if I catch you siphoning off anyone’s shitty mood, you’re in trouble. I think you’ve taken enough for today.”
She swallowed, waiting for him to walk away, but he didn’t. He waited. She ducked her chin, and he knelt before her.
“Nod if you’re going to obey,” he said gently, sensing that she was completely overwhelmed.
She nodded, her gaze still stuck to her legs.
“Good girl,” he said, low and soft, the words a caress that fluttered through her on a gentle breeze, lifting her chin as he stood and walked away so that she could watch him.
She had no idea what kind of man Easton—ah, fuck it. His name was Mikel. She had no idea what kind of man he was, but her chest ached with the need to trust him, to see what might happen if she became one of “his Alphas.” Though she would never be one of them, she still wondered what it would be like to be one of his.
Her entire life, people had claimed that they were protecting her. Doing things for her own good. But none of them ever looked like Mikel when they claimed it.
None of them ever made her feel like it was true.
9
Adorable Sex On A Stick
Elijah and Gabriel both came to her practice session that afternoon, using the other half of the room to quietly do their own thing as she picked her song and did a few stretches, sneaking glances at them from beneath her eyelashes.
They had said they wouldn’t intrude on her session, but she was still uncomfortable enough to surreptitiously spy on them for a few minutes.
They had paired both of their headphones with Gabriel’s phone and seemed to be working out the choreography for a song she couldn’t hear. It seemed complicated—too complicated for her to follow, until she realised it wasn’t just a dance for one or two people. It was group choreography.
She forced herself to tune them out, grabbing her phone and watching through the last recording she had made of her end-of-year piece for Dance Acrobatics. After identifying her problem areas, she restarted her music and cycled through the routine. Once, and then twice, and then three times.
With each repetition, she only grew more frustrated. The moves were good, but they weren’t great, and Professor Lye had announced that he would be grading their final performances over the last two days of class. He was restricting his third-year class to the top ten performers, which made it incredibly competitive, especially when most of the other students were pairing up to better their chances. She wasn’t sure if it was her slow recovery from the Vermont attack or not, but something was off with her dancing.
“Need a hand?” Gabriel’s quiet tone made her head whip up.
She focussed on the bench where he and Elijah had relocated to at some point without her noticing.
She spun on her heel, approaching them, and hitting Pause on her music. “Is it that bad?”
“It’s a little forced.” Elijah leaned up against the wall, his posture relaxed. “But you’re still healing.”
Gabriel shrugged, apparently agreeing with the other Alpha.
“Forced how?” she demanded, a little too quickly, before focussing on Elijah. “And what are you doing for your final performance?”
“For Lye?” he asked, cocking his head. “I choreographed a dance, but I’ve run into casting issues.”
“Casting issues?” she asked, as Gabriel snorted.
“He doesn’t want to dance with anyone,” Gabriel supplied. “But since Lye’s third-year class is a partner class, he still prepared partner choreography.”
“Oh.” She glanced between them, waiting for Elijah to get upset that Gabriel was teasing him, but Elijah remained relaxed, a small smile hooking at the edges of his mouth. “I didn’t realise. You barely come to class. I don’t know how you get away with it.”
“I send Lye weekly recordings of my progress.” Elijah leaned forward an inch, a spark lighting up his gaze. “He seems … content. Are you scoping me out, Sigma?”
“You are my competition.” She sniffed, crossing her arms. “I want to get into Lye’s class next year too.”
“Why?” Gabriel cocked a brow. “It’s an Acro Duo class. Duo being the key word.”
She widened her eyes at him in mock horror. “Are you saying I don’t have any friends?”
He smirked, but it wasn’t cruel. It was … weirdly intimate. And it was Gabriel, so that added a whole other layer of weird to the intimacy.
“He’s saying you’re very selective about who gets close to you.” Elijah sounded almost bored.
“Yep,” Gabriel’s lips popped on the word. “And Acro Duo work is a whole lot of getting close.”
“Are you on the wait list?” she asked, because it really sounded like he was, which was surprising. She couldn’t picture Gabriel dripping in sweat, with chalk-dusted hands, tangled up with a dance partner.
Gabriel crooked his finger at her instead of answering. She glanced at Elijah, but he only dropped his head to the side, his eyes sweeping over her, a challenging glint entering his expression. She stepped toward Gabriel, stopping between his knees.
“Come here,” he muttered, tilting his chin up.
She ducked down, assuming he didn’t want his words overheard, her eyes flickering nervously between his.
He was showing her that spark of personality again, that little hint of interest that he usually buried behind a wall of cool, calm, and collected.
“Closer, Puppy.”
She made a face at him. It probably looked scared.
Elijah chuckled, and the sound urged her to quickly duck her face beside Gabriel’s, his dark blond hair brushing her nose. His scent was soothing and gentle, so subtle it made her want to press her nose to his skin and inhale. He was clean and crisp like fresh linen hung out to dry in the sun. It was so comforting it almost made her toes curl as she imagined slipping into a bed with fresh cotton sheets drifting against her skin.