"If you're wondering who killed the headmaster, I sadly can't take credit."
"Then what were you doing in his office?" I press.
Her dark gaze clashes with mine. "Besides bleeding out on the floor in agony after four idiots used my body to boost their egos? Not a damn thing."
Ouch,one of the voices in my head snickers.
She has a sharp tongue, but there's a faint undertone of hurt in her savage words that cuts even deeper. Baelfire is right. I was the one who suggested the very bet that hurt her. I'm no fool—I know Maven must be so completely closed off for a reason. Something made her like this. She won't talk about her past, but my blood blossom must have been hurt deeply.
And now she's hurting again, because of me.
I need to fix this. Immediately.
"Sangfluir," I begin gently, intending to smooth things over.
Her eyes flash as if my trying to cajole her has the opposite effect. "I'm not interested in your justification."
I continue anyway, determined. "The bet had nothing to do with us wanting you?—"
"Stop talking."
"Maven, please just?—"
I see it the moment her temper flares. But instead of snapping at me or storming away, she does the last thing I could possibly expect. She lifts her chin, drops her boots to the floor, and lets the towel fall away, leaving her gloriously naked.
I nearly bite my damn tongue off.
Gods above, her body is so fuckingbeautiful.
It's impossible not to recall just how tight and wet and utterly addictive it was to be inside my keeper. My eyes snag on a water droplet that traces slowly down the smooth, olive-toned skin ofher neck before it drips between her breasts, its path veering slightly when it rolls over the pale scar there.
I want to lick away the water and then…sink my teeth into that gorgeous neck.
Fuck me.
I should not have thought about biting her. Now it's all I can think about—biting and drinking and finally finding out what her tantalizing blood tastes like.
Crypt exhales sharply, and Baelfire makes a strangled sound, gripping his own erection. Meanwhile, Maven holds my gaze as a very clear show offuck youas she slips into Baelfire's hoodie, which reaches all the way down to her knees. She adjusts her hair, slips into her boots without bothering to lace them up, and brushes past three extremely aroused, stunned legacies before slamming the front door behind her.
It's quiet for one beat before Baelfire rubs his face. “Holy fuck. She knows how to shut us up."
Crypt vanishes, no doubt to follow her. But as Baelfire and I stand in mutually frustrated silence, my ears begin to ring. The voices in my head build in volume until their whispers drown out my own thoughts. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to breathe through the cacophony of paranoia swarming in my brain.
What are you doing, letting her go out without your protection? You couldn't even heal her. How useless are you?
Your keeper will die, and you're powerless to stop it.
You’ll lose her. It’s for the best.
The taunting echoes in my skull reach a crescendo until I grip the sides of my head, snapping, "Shutup."
When a low whistle breaks through, and the voices slink back into the corners of my mind, I blink my eyes open. I don't know how long I've been standing here out of my mind, but Baelfire stands in front of me with his arms folded and his eyebrows drawn down.
"Your curse has you fucked up more than usual. I can't believe I'm asking this, but should I be worried? What are the actual odds that your sanity will last through the upcoming semester, Si?"
It likely won't, a fact of which I am painfully aware.
I ignore him and his asinine concern, grimacing at the ache lingering in my temples as I make my way to the cabinet in the kitchen where I stored the good liquor. It won't stop the voices, but I don't care right now. I just need something to dull this before I lose control of myself and try to kill the dragon shifter again.
