The back of my neck prickled with awareness.
Tension tightened in my gut.
Something was wrong.
“No. Leave us,” I snarled at the woman as I tried to concentrate on my surroundings. She said something else, but I ignored her and swore because I couldn’t hear Arabella’s annoying breaths.
The slave tattoo wasn’t acting up, so she couldn’t be far away. It didn’t make me feel any better.
I picked up my table knife, and it creaked as the metal bent.
The room buzzed loudly.
How was I supposed to monitor the idiot and protect my Revered if I couldn’t hear her?
I forced my jaw to unclench and asked Orion, “Where did she go?”
He immediately replied, like he’d been tracking her, “She’s sitting at the shifter table with that pathetic woman she had sex with.”
Corvus growled, and I stiffened.
“Arabella!” Corvus shouted loudly across the hall, and students quieted. “As your team captain, I didn’t give you permission to sit at another legion’s table.”
I loosened my grip as I located her.
Arabella whispered with exasperation, “No, you can’t infect them with your blood. No, it’s fine.”
“You gonna let them treat you like that? Pathetic,” the child they referred to as Jinx countered.
Arabella snapped, “Be careful sweetie, you won’t always have Jax around to protect you.”
“You can’t hurt me,” Jinx said with a finality to her voice that was odd.
From the way Arabella murmured about garden gnomes as she stomped away, she’d missed the strange inflection.
I rolled my eyes at how oblivious she was as she huffed and threw herself into the seat across from me.
My shoulders relaxed, and I resumed counting her breaths.
Ten minutes later, all calmness was gone, and I seethed with rage.
“You’re not eating,” I snarled at her.
There was a pause, then she said vehemently, “I will shove this fork so far up your ass if you even think about trying to force-feed me again.”
I choked on a piece of meat and tried to ignore the way my body came to life at that statement.
If only she knew, she was talking to a sadomasochist.
She’d watch her words more carefully.
“Also,” she said haughtily, “If you try any more food bullshit, you won’t just have me to deal with. Sadie will interfere and destroy you.”
Her fiery words sent a shiver down my spine. The urge to hurt her until she whimpered meekly overwhelmed me. Would she moan breathily, or would she screech with outrage to cover her whimpers of enjoyment?
No.
I wouldn’t think about it.
The fork bent beneath my grip, and I dug my nails deeper into my palm. The sharp bite of pain calmed me. “You still need to eat,” I said dismissively like I didn’t give a shit what she said.
“I am.” Arabella smacked her lips aggressively so I could hear her chewing, but she didn’t swallow.
She was such an idiot.
If I weren’t so hyperfocused on every sound she made, I would have missed the soft squishing sound next to her foot.
I cocked my head to the side to listen harder.
Arabella smacked her lips louder.
Splat. Another thing dropped next to her foot.
Now that my mate song wasn’t interfering, I could hear minutiae I must have missed before. I sat up straighter and leaned forward. “What did you just drop under the table?” I asked her.
“What did she do?” Corvus leaned closer.
“Calm down,” John said, and I knew from the defensive tone of his voice that he was covering for her.
Arabella huffed, “Nothing,” and counted odd numbers under her breath.
The chair beside me squeaked as Corvus looked under the table.
The temperature at the table increased.
His voice was deadly. “Why is there a pile of meat beside your chair?”
I sat straighter with incredulity because I’d known there was something off about Arabella’s eating pattern.
“You will eat meat to retain your strength,” I ordered.
She scoffed and tapped her foot. “I don’t negotiate with slavers.”
“Good thing it’s not a negotiation.” I lunged across the table and wrapped my fingers around her throat.
Ever so slowly I dragged my callused thumb across the smooth planes of her neck. Her skin was impossibly delicate.
She shivered beneath my touch, and I masked a similar response.
I moved up to her jawline.
Arabella held her breath, and anticipation unfurled in my gut. I’d wanted to touch her face ever since I’d shoved my thumb into her mouth and she’d sucked it wantonly.
The feeling had been obscene.
This time, I touched her face because I wanted to feel for myself how different she was as a woman. I didn’t need to touch her to know what she looked like; it was an ownership thing. A marking. To let her know what it would feel like when I rubbed my bodily fluids all over her.
Her chin was delicate. I dragged my nails up to her cheekbones and made sure they pinched her skin lightly as I felt her lips.
Her mouth was lusher than Orion’s, and her lower lip was ridiculously full.
I felt a scab and frowned.
Had she been picking at her lip? Was that the scratching sound I hadn’t been able to place? I’d deal with that later.
For now, I forced my fingers upward and couldn’t hold back a scoff. Her nose was a ridiculously small thing with a gentle slope. Long, soft lashes fluttered as I slowly traced her eyes.
Orion was right; the enchantment had disguised how large they were.
She had doe eyes.
My fingers were featherlight across her eyelids. Sooty lashes fluttered and sent little pinpricks of sensitivity shooting into my groin. I smirked and leaned forward. “Hideous. Just like I thought.”
My fingers grasped at empty air as she wrenched away from me and said, “You don’t get to touch me without permission.”
I chuckled and sat back with my arms crossed like I didn’t have a care in the world, even though my fingers still buzzed with the rush of touching her.
She might act unaffected, but I knew my words got to her.
“Tsk, tsk,” I said sarcastically. “I own you, Arabella. You don’t make the rules.”
Her breath hitched when I said her name.
I smiled. I liked that she hated it. Liked that I could get on her nerves so easily.
If only she knew how badly I could torment her.
How intoxicating I could make it.
How fucking obsessed she’d be.
I’d never been the white-knight type—the devil society that had tortured me while I grew up for being blind had ensured that—but fuck, I wanted to be Arabella’s villain.
I wanted her to cry my name in her sleep as she trembled from fear. Convulsed with it. Moaned with it. Choked on it.
I leaned back further in my seat and smirked. “Eat your meat like a good slave.”
She didn’t snap back like I expected. Instead, Arabella’s voice was monotone. “No,” she said with no inflection.
“Do it,” I snarled.
Silence.
I heard a rustling but nothing else.
“What is she doing?” I whispered to Orion.
My Revered said, “Flipping you off with both her fingers. Now she’s miming shooting you with a finger gun. Wait, now she’s holding her arm out straight and hitting her inner elbow and pulling her arm up. She just picked up a piece of meat, then stabbed her knife through it. I think she’s pretending it’s you. Now she’s—”