He jerks his chin at the photograph. “Did you like the present I left for you?”
“Fuck you,” I say through clenched teeth.
His smirk morphs into a full-blown smile. “I’d rather fuck your bride.”
I spin on my heel before I do something I regret. The rules are clear, and I have no intention of pushing boundaries and testing the Order’s mercy. Not with the remaining Trials looming.
“What’s wrong, X? Is your girl unsatisfied? Don’t worry, I’d love to help her with that. I’ll give her the fuck she’s missing.”
A red haze obscures my vision, and I turn around, my gun lifted. The thundering of my weapon echoes in the room, followed by the hiss of pain from Eric. He grabs his shoulder where I hit him, his shirt covered in paint.
“What the fuck, Donovan?”
I shrug. “You’re lucky I didn’t shoot you in the fucking face.”
The arms instructor strides into the room, a scowl on his face. “Donovan, you know the rules. No contact outside the designated area. I’ll be docking your points for this.”
“Worth it.”
He doesn’t bother responding and orders the recruits to vacate the room. As I exit, the instructor’s voice booms over the chatter.
“Next recruit, get the fuck in there and start shooting!”
The frustration that arrived quick and fierce still burns in my chest. I’m fucking pissed—not just at Eric for taking me out, but at myself for being distracted. Thoughts of Delilah can throw me off my game. She’s a vulnerability I can’t afford, not here, not in the real world where the consequences are far more severe than a splatter of paint.
As I remove my mask, my resolve hardens. I need to manage this emotional entanglement that’s obviously affecting my performance. But as I think of Delilah, of her smile and the warmth it brings me, I know it’s not something I can simply turn off.
How can I stop my heart from beating when it belongs to her, not me?
Chapter 19
DELILAH
The morning light giving way to afternoon sunshine filters through the purple curtains of my dorm room. Well, it’s more Raven’s now that I spend every night with Xavier. We haven’t been together long, but it’s hard to imagine not falling asleep with his body pressed to mine, his breaths grazing my skin, and his hands gripping me as though I’m precious to him.
That man has become my emotional support assassin.
“So, the Sanguine Solstice is tonight,” I say, trying to sound casual as I pick at a piece of toast left over from my brunch with the girls.
June looks at me, and her eyes flash with warning. “Yes, it is.” Her words are slow and measured, her gaze flicking to Raven before she speaks again. “It sounds boring, to be honest.”
“Maybe,” I say.
I press my lips together to prevent myself from asking more questions. June’s subtle reminder to keep Raven oblivious of the Order and its secrets isn’t lost on me, but I really want to know what’s happening tonight. What Xavier will be doing without me.
Raven gapes at us and slaps a hand to her chest. “May you be spared from the ninth circle of hell for your disrespect, Juniper. The Blood Moon is a time for the sacred ritual of cleansing or protection. I prefer to smite people, but that hasn’t worked yet.”
June snorts. “Of course you’d try that. Delilah’s talking about a ball the fraternity is throwing tonight.”
“A ball?” Raven’s expression brightens with curiosity when she glances at me. “Sounds posh, my dear Watson.”
“I’m sure it will be, but it’s not a big deal.” I shrug, the display of nonchalance completely at odds with the emotions swirling inside me. I look at June. “Declan’s taking you, right?”
When she nods, my stomach churns with envy. “Yeah, I’ll see you there,” she says.
“I’m not going.”
June blinks at me in confusion. “Why not?”
