Tightened.
Did she know how much I struggled to interact with her? I was trying to be softer. To be nicer.
But I wasn’t built that way.
She’d always been disturbingly good at analyzing a situation.
Sweat dripped down my nose as flames crawled along my arms. The achy, feverish feeling intensified.
Arabella tipped her head back and twirled her pipe with her tongue.
Her countenance was blasé, expression tired, face bored, like she hadn’t just eviscerated me with her words.
“Nice try. You’re still not going.” I took a step closer into her personal space as flames danced faster along my skin. “And if you try to leave without us, you’ll just be hurting yourself.”
She shrugged. “But it will hurt you too, and that makes it worth it for me.”
I grabbed her wrist before she could so much as flinch toward the door. I hated how cavalier she was about self-harm.
Her skin was freezing.
A harsh contrast to my overheated flesh.
The fire in my blood was roaring and begging to be released. The fever intensified.
I wanted to warm her. Chase the chill from her flesh. Protect her.
I shook my head and breathed in strength.
Exhaled control.
Instead of staying still and letting me do what I needed to do to not raze this academy to the ground, Arabella yanked and struggled against my hold.
She was the antithesis of obedience.
Chaos.
I tried to sound unaffected, but my voice came out as a throaty rasp. “I’ve made the decision as captain. We’re having a party in our room tonight because everyone needs to let loose. Please don’t make this difficult.”
I’m trying.
She bared her perfect white teeth like a wild animal.
I inhaled deeper.
No one should be allowed to smell so good. It was overpowering and heady, with an icy burn.
I coughed and turned to the side as I discreetly adjusted my pants.
The slave brand was clearly messing with my head.
Arabella sucked on her pipe.
Her pink tongue wiped across her cracked lips, and she whispered, “So I should choose a man to get with at the party?”
A sick sense of dread filled my stomach, like icy water was washing over me.
Her cheeks hollowed as she rolled her pipe in her mouth like it was candy.
“No.” I tried to speak calmly, but my voice came out as a growl. “Touch anyone and I’ll kill him.”
Arabella tipped her head back like I’d made a joke. “Good one.” She slapped me on the arm like I was her pathetic human pal, John.
I blinked down at her.
“I’m not joking,” I said as flames rolled off my arms. “I have no limitations.”
The thought of someone else fisting her blue curls and inhaling her intoxicating scent—it was wrong.
I did not like it.
“Why?” She raised her eyebrows. “Because I’m your slave?”
“No,” I spat immediately. “It’s not like that.”
She narrowed her dark-blue eyes, and her face scrunched with confusion. “Then what is it like?”
I opened my lips, and no words came out.
I couldn’t identify the emotions swirling in my gut. She was my teammate, and we were connected by the tattoo, but she was also more.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“You can get with women, but I can’t get with men because of some weird, sexist double standard?” She scoffed at me like I was losing my mind.
I agreed with her.
I was.
“It’s not like that,” I repeated uselessly.
Crash. The bathroom door was thrown open with unnecessary force, and Luka sauntered out.
His eyes narrowed as he stared at me where I stood inches away from Arabella. My arms were on fire, and it looked like I was threatening her.
I made a point of taking a step back.
Arabella chuckled as she pushed past me like she thought I was pathetic.
Lately, I was.
The air around Luka shimmered black.
It was high time he explained himself. I turned to question Luka about what the hell kind of game he and John were playing, but a servant burst into the room.
Why would he keep his identity a secret for so many years but reveal it now?
“Here’s the enchanted speaker you requested.” The servant offered a glowing blue sphere to Zenith.
The demon stared down at it and furrowed his brow.
The servant explained, “Just tap it once while thinking of a song, genre of music, or general aesthetic.”
Zenith tapped.
A guitar tore through notes while a male singer screamed.
It was frenzied music.
Violent.
One corner of his mouth twitched up, and it was the happiest I’d ever seen him.
“Here we go.” Arabella climbed onto John’s bed and started playing the air guitar while shimmying her hips wantonly. She smiled and said, “Get up sluts it’s time to sin.”
My blood pressure skyrocketed.
Wasn’t she supposed to be depressed?
“What are you doing? You’re acting like a psychopath,” I growled at her over the unintelligible music blaring through the room.
So much for appearing less aggressive.
“At least I’m on a path,” Arabella said as she smirked and flipped the unruly mass of blue curls over her shoulder. “Also, I’m dancing like a whore.” She pretended to hump air.
She pointed both her middle fingers at me and scrunched them like she was waving.
“To everyone I’ve done wrong.” She gestured to the room like she was making an announcement. “I just want you to know.” She put a hand over her heart. “I’d do it again.”
I shook my head with disgust.
She laughed and tripped over a pillow.
I lunged forward, catching her before she hit the floor. My fingers tingled where they dug into the dip above her hips.
She scrambled out of my grip and climbed back onto the bed.
I took a step back and cleared my throat as I rubbed at my flushed face.
She resumed dancing provocatively.
The edge of my shirt sizzled as it caught on fire.
Lately, the servants were having to bring me new clothes every day because I was burning through them. I hadn’t been so out of control since puberty.
“Since you’re forcing me to be here,” Arabella said with a smirk, “I’m going to rage.”
She exhaled a cloud of smoke, and it formed into a guitar, then she pretended to slam the smoking mirage onto the comforters in a fit of rage.
I didn’t notice that she somehow looked both ferocious and cute pretending to be a rock star.
Nope.
I didn’t notice that at all.
Luka sauntered up to the bed and leaned against it so he stood beside her.
He didn’t smile or touch her like John, but he stood in her proximity with a scowl on his face as he studied her intensely. He was acting like he was her bodyguard or something.
I didn’t like it.
For some ridiculous reason, the twins were always hanging all over her. They were two grown men, but they were acting like clingy women.
It was embarrassing.
My Revered and Protector yawned as they crawled out of bed, where they’d been tangled together napping. Their hair was adorably messy, their eyes hooded. Sleep still clung to them.
I wrapped my arms around them and dragged them against my sides.