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Crush (Crave, #2)(179)

Author:Tracy Wolff

“His words, not mine,” he hastens to add when I turn on him, infuriated. “I’m just saying, that’s what he’ll be thinking. It’s not true, but that’s how he’ll see it.”

“Yeah, well, that’s ridiculous,” I mutter and glance up at Jaxon talking to Mekhi.

“Absolutely. But he’s a ridiculous man. Evil. Monstrous. But ridiculous. You’ll do well to remember that.”

He doesn’t say anything else, but then neither do Jaxon, Mekhi, or I as we take the last flight of stairs two at a time. The others are waiting for us at the bottom, looking a million times happier than I feel. Then again, the king probably doesn’t want to kill them.

“Looking good, Grace,” Flint tells me, holding up a hand for a fist bump.

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” I tell him, because it’s true. All the guys look amazing in their dress uniforms, especially since they get to wear blazers tonight instead of those absurd purple robes.

“Everybody ready for this dog and vampire show?” Mekhi asks as he holds an arm out for Eden. She looks a little surprised at the gesture—I’m guessing the combat boots and kick-ass attitude tend to limit the gallant gestures aimed her way—but then she smiles wider than I’ve ever seen her.

“Damn straight!” she tells him, taking his offered arm.

Xavier offers his arm to Macy, and she giggles like a schoolgirl before she also takes it. But I can’t help grinning at the way she and Xavier keep stealing glances at each other out of the corners of their eyes when they think the other one isn’t looking.

“Guess that leaves you and me,” Flint says to Gwen with a waggle of his eyebrows.

She looks at him like he’s a little strange, but she nods as she gingerly takes his arm. She’s doing so much better, but her arm is still badly bruised and cut up.

Jaxon reaches up and smooths my curls off my face. “It’s going to be okay,” he tells me. “I promise, I won’t let anything happen to you.”

“I know you won’t,” I answer as he takes my hand in his. But his words from earlier keep playing in my head.

Sometimes it feels like Jaxon tries to protect me from everyone but himself.

But as our palms meet, I can’t help but realize how drained he is. I fed him energy down the mating bond right after we got back from the Boneyard earlier, and he seemed to be doing better, but right now I’m not so sure.

We have to get the last item. We don’t have any time to waste.

“So anxious to get me out, huh?” Hudson asks.

So anxious to get your brother back to normal, I answer. It’s not the same thing.

I wait for the obnoxious comeback, and it doesn’t take long. “Jaxon doesn’t do normal, or haven’t you noticed?”

Says the guy who lives in my head, I shoot back, fed up with everyone at the moment. Hate to be the one to break it to you, but he’s not the abnormal one here.

Hudson starts to say something else, but he stops as we walk into the auditorium, which is already half filled with students, many of whom turn to look at us as we start toward the back row of seats.

There’s a purple carpet—a purple carpet!—lining the walkway up to the stage. It’s obviously for us, and I feel completely ridiculous walking down it, even though everyone else seems to think it’s totally normal.

Uncle Finn is waiting when we get to the stage, once again fiddling with the sound system. He grins at all of us and goes out of his way to send an encouraging little wink to Macy and me.

Still, there’s something in his eyes—they’re so serious, despite his smile and wink—that makes my stomach clench.

“Is it too late to run?” I ask, and I’m only half kidding. Something about this just feels off. Jaxon squeezes my hand.

“I told you not to come,” Hudson hisses at me. “I told you something bad would happen.”

Nothing bad has happened yet, I try to soothe, but my heart has started beating out of control.

Even Jaxon looks like he thinks running might be a good option, especially as the assembly hall doors swing open and the members of the Circle come parading up the walkway on the opposite side of the auditorium from where the rest of us entered.

Cyrus heads to the podium with all the pomp and flair of Mick Jagger at a Stones concert. Today he’s dressed in a black pinstripe suit with a purple-and-black tie and, not going to lie, he looks like a million bucks. Of course, his eyes are gleaming like a zealot’s, so it takes a little away from the whole picture.