I swatted at his hand and pushed him away. “You’re so weird.”
“Okay, Smurf.” His dimples deepened.
I smacked his hand away from my hair. “You talk a lot of crap for a man who shares a name with unidentified corpses.”
He arched a dark brow. “Oh, please, like Aran is much better. Who even spells it with two as? You don’t see me spelling my name J-o-n or G-o-n.”
“That doesn’t even make sense.” I rolled my eyes.
The rich scents of bergamot and musk were the only warning I got.
Fingers squeezed the back of my neck.
Nails dug into my skin.
Scorpius sneered into my ear, “Shut the hell up, Arabella. Lothaire is speaking and some of us are trying to listen to what’s being said.” His warm breath made me shiver.
“Don’t talk to her like that,” Orion whispered as he tried to pull his psychotic mate off me. It didn’t work.
With John in front of me, no one could see the way the king gripped me.
His fingers were warm against my cold skin.
Scorpius tightened his grip. He touched me like he owned me—held me like I was his.
“How about you shut up?” I tried discreetly to pull my head out of his grip, but it was like wrenching against a steel wall. “And don’t call me that.”
“Don’t touch her,” John said darkly.
Scorpius’s nails gouged me harder.
Orion was suddenly inches away from my face. “Are you okay, sweetheart?” he mouthed. His gaze flickered to where his mate held me, and his pupils expanded.
His tongue snaked out.
I’d never noticed that his upper lip was fuller than his lower lip, and it gave him the appearance of a perpetual pout.
I stared at his mouth. The remnants of raspberries and chocolate still lingered on my tongue. The urge to lean forward and press myself against him was overwhelming.
A few days ago, he’d kissed me.
I ripped my gaze away from temptation and forced my expression to harden.
Everything had changed.
“Your mates are calling me a slave,” I whispered back. “I’m not your sweetheart.”
His pouty lips furled into a snarl, and his pupils dilated until he didn’t look soft. He looked mean. Angry.
Orion grabbed Scorpius’s arms and ripped his grip off me. The blind devil’s nails scratched down the side of my neck.
Pain streaked across the letters on my back.
I moved closer to John.
The royal students sitting closest to us weren’t blocked by John, and they stared up at us with open mouths.
We ignored them.
Scorpius bared his teeth as he backed up, and the harsh shadows on his sculpted face made him look like an animal.
“Simmer,” I said patronizingly.
He made an obscene gesture with his hands, and Orion stepped in front of him so the rest of the hall wouldn’t see.
“Stop being so obsessed with me,” I whispered as I turned to John. “Some people are so rude, interrupting other people’s conversations.”
John tsked under his breath. “You just can’t teach class these days.”
We grinned at each other.
Respectfully, we were hilarious.
Malum, who’d been standing in formation and paying attention to everything Lothaire said like a good little soldier, leaned toward us. “He’s right. You two need to shut up and pay attention.”
He shuffled to the side.
The demons glared over at him, confused why he was pushing out of formation.
It became clear what he was doing when he inserted a fat thigh between John and me as he tried to push himself between us.
John yanked me to his side so we were pressed against each other.
There was nowhere for Malum to go.
I whispered in John’s ear, “At least we’re not named Corvus Malum. Talk about a mouthful. His mother must have hated him. I think the name Mitch suits him better.”
John furrowed his brow and asked, “Why, Mitch?”
I smirked. “Male bitch.”
We both chuckled.
Flames crawled up the sword tattooed on Malum’s neck as he glared down at us.
Lothaire looked over midspeech, and we all snapped our backs straight and looked forward like we were paying attention.
Sweat streaked across my temple.
Malum was uncomfortably close on my other side, and his skin was burning up, little flames multiplying and spreading across his skin.
Steel eyes flashed as he glared down at me.
Turning my head discreetly to the side, I stood on my tiptoes and whispered loudly in John’s ear, “Have you noticed that Malum’s looking very bloated today?”
When I stood on my toes, I was over six feet tall and John was the perfect height for gossiping.
Something sizzled.
It took me a moment to realize the arm of my sweatshirt was on fire.
I patted it out with a smirk on my face.
Pissing off Malum was quickly becoming a hobby. There was something about upsetting a bully with control issues that made me infinitely happy.
He swore viciously under his breath.
I stared forward.
He might call me his slave, but the tattoos bound all of us together. The poor egotistical megalomaniac couldn’t see the obvious.
I was better at battle analysis.
By the end of this, one of us was going to be on their knees.
It wouldn’t be me.
I tuned back into Lothaire’s speech as he said, “We will now welcome the other legions to our academy.”
Damn. That was quick.
Servants rushed from the shadows and pulled open the heavy iron doors.
Five lines of people waited in the hall, and even from a distance, I could feel the power radiating off them.
“The angel legion,” Lothaire announced.
One line walked forward into the silent hall.
Four men and four women sauntered forward. They each had a different hair and skin color but were all built tall, lithe, and gorgeous. Broadswords were strapped across each of their backs.
As they marched forward, shimmering wings erupted out of their backs.
Students oohed and aahed.
Gaped at them with wide eyes.
From a purely sexual standpoint, I’d do them.
Their weapons matched their shimmering blue wings. Feathers clattered loudly as they walked forward, and the sound was something between the tinkling of bells and gemstones rattling together. It was expensive. Dangerous.
They stopped in front of Lothaire and bowed their heads. He gestured for them to fall into line facing forward, and they marched into position like well-trained soldiers.
A large tan angel with shoulder length dark hair stood in the front.
He slowly turned his head.
I inhaled sharply.
He had heterochromia. One of his eyes was so dark it looked black and the other was neon yellow. With his catlike sculpted features, the effect was startling.
Even more shocking, his blue wings had streaks of black.
His sword crackled and steamed, and I leaned closer to get a better look. The smell of frost hit me before cool air nipped my face.
Their swords were made from ice.
The angel with the mismatched eyes looked over, and I realized I was staring.
I grimaced. His entire persona was menacing.
“Form a line, academy legion,” Lothaire hissed like he was embarrassed.
We’d completely fallen out of formation when we’d been arguing with one another, and we quickly reassembled.