Now that gets my attention. Potions aren’t easy to come by at the academy, not to mention everything brewed in Gluttony Sin class gets confiscated, and things like truth tonics aren’t on the curriculum. But studying with a mafia prince who probably has a high body count and zero patience? Risky.Deliciously risky.
The universe is 100% toying with me. I hesitate.
He tilts his head, watching me. “What, scared I’ll eat you?”
“Scared I’ll like it,” I mumble, then immediately want to punch myself in the throat.Why would you say that out loud?!
His eyes gleam, and for a second, he looks like he might take me up on my offer.
“Look, I’m just saying,” he says, running his hand over his buzzed hair, “you help me not fail, I make your life easier. That’s a win for both of us, right?”
I roll my eyes hard. “Fine. But if this turns into some mafia initiation where I have to stab someone with a broken potion bottle—”
“You’ll already have the bottle,” he says, dead serious, but the twitch of his mouth gives him away.
I shake my head as I pass him, feeling his gaze on me as I go. “This better be the best damn tonic I’ve ever had, West.”
“Oh, it will be,” he calls after me. “Might even make you immune to my charm.”
“Then I’ll take two.” I mumble under my breath. I have a death wish.
As I continue walking down the hall, still feeling the weight of Maddox’s strange, smoldering attention lingering on my skin, a handgrips my arm again—tight, unrelenting—and a jolt of something hot and electric zips up through me like a live wire.
My body tenses. Only one of my bonds would elicit that unwelcome reaction.
I turn to find Atticus standing close.
And his usual cold, storm blue eyes are raging. They blaze with something close to fury, his jaw clenched tight enough to crack stone.
“What the hell were you doing talking to Maddox West?” he snaps, low and sharp. His hand grips my arm a little more tightly.
I blink at him, stunned by the venom in his tone. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he says, voice like a blade. “You think it’s smart to cozy up with him? He’s dangerous, Arwen. He’s not someone you flirt your way through assignments with.”
My mouth parts, disbelief catching in my throat. “I wasn’t flirting—”
“Sure looked like it.”
There’s something cruel in his voice. Not protective or possessive.Bitter.Like it’s personal. Like I’m the enemy.
And it hurts more than it should.
“Why do you even care?” I say, trying to keep my voice steady and low to not attract more attention. “You act like you don’t even know me. Let those assholes you call friends make my life miserable. "
He scoffs, taking a step closer. “Because unlike you, I actually know what’s going on in this world. I’m not from a little backwater city in the middle of nowhere. My upbringing included connections and knowledge and knowing the world players on the board. I’m trying to keep you from making a stupid mistake that could get you killed. You should be grateful."
“Really?” I snap, chin lifting. “Because it sounds a lot more like you’re just trying to control who I speak to.”
He doesn’t answer. Just continues staring at me like I’m something foolish. Fragile. Like I’ve disappointed him in some way that I can’t begin to understand.
And then—
“Atticus,” a syrupy voice cuts in.
Daphne.
One of his favorite distractions.
