“Ugh, I was just so tired. All the traveling and schedule chaos caught up with me. I figured I’d crash early.”
She raises an eyebrow but, thankfully, she doesn’t push.
Nodding, she grabs her bag. “Alright, well, let’s go get food. I’m starving. If I don’t get at least two waffles before class, I will punch someone.”
I can relate to her early morning Wrathy mood.
We head toward the cafeteria, and I can already feel the universe laughing at me. First time showing my face since the bond ceremony, and of course everything feels wrong. Every creak in the floorboards hits my nerves like a warning bell.
Itfeelslike eyes are on me, even if no one’s actually looking. My palms are slick, my pulse is pounding in my ears, and the air has that sour, metal taste of guilt I’m pretending I don’t have. Any second now I’m convinced someone’s going to step out of a doorway, slap cuffs on me, and drag me off to the wastes like I deserve.
I keep my head down as we slip into the cafeteria and join our usual table. Sly, Brix, Chloe and Tabby are already halfway through breakfast, throwing food and bad jokes across the table like they don’t have a care in the world.
I keep my head down and focus hard on my tray, like my waffles will give me answers. If I don’t look up, I won’t accidentally make eye contact with anyone dangerous. Like, say, one of my four multi-faction bonds. No big deal.Totally manageable.
I can tell the stares haven’t stopped. I pretend not to notice, but my waffles are not that interesting, and the tension in my chest is only getting worse.
Suddenly I feel it.
That pull. That magnetic, soul-tugging, can’t-ignore-it sensation, right in the middle of my sternum. It’s like being yanked.
One of them is here.
I chance a glance in the direction my body wants me desperately to go.
Atticus.
Of course it’s him. Tall, manicured and effortlessly cool, like sin dressed in silk and good intentions. He’s sitting at the table across the room, flanked by his usual Pride crew of walking, talking superiority complexes.
He glances my way and suddenly… he’s staring back at me.
Our eyes lock for one second too long.
Then he looks away. Fast. Like he touched something hot.
Next to him, Daphne—patron saint of weaponized femininity—catches the entire exchange. Her eyes narrow like she's trying to set me on fire with her gaze, and honestly, she might actually try. I don’t know what her power is.
She leans into him a little, all smug and territorial, like she’s marking her favorite chew toy.
I blink, tear my gaze away, and stab my breakfast with a little too much aggression.
My friends are still laughing. Still eating. Still blissfully unaware that my internal organs are staging a rebellion.
Walking on eggshells? More like doing cartwheels on a minefield.
The tension in my chest finally lets up a bit as everyone settles into breakfast mode. Between Holly’s endless commentary, Sly and Brix throwing hash browns at each other, and Tabby trying to flirt with literally anyone within a ten-foot radius, it’s almost possible to forget that I’m psychically tethered to four people against my will.
Almost.
“So, what’s your schedule look like?” Sly asks through a mouthful of food.
“Yeah,” Tabby chimes in, already twirling a piece of her hair like we’re in a bad teen drama. “How are they handling your sin training since you don’t have one? Or are they just giving you a vibe check and hoping for the best?”
“They’re not just throwing her into the void, Tabby,” Cleo mumbles as she adjusts her glasses and scrolls through something on her phone… “Probably.”
I sigh and continue to poke at my plate. Tabby’s not far off with the complete void and vibe check theory.
“Dean Bellows is having me rotate through all the sin training classes—two a day—until something manifests. Guess her idea is that exposure might trigger something.”
