I raise an eyebrow. "Have you considered why so many of them actively despise you?"
"We're lovable," Sean protests. "We're fucking delightful."
"You egged the Dean's car."
"That was a political protest!"
"For what cause?" I challenge.
His face goes blank. "Uh. More… nacho toppings in the cafeteria?"
"You flooded the science building," I add, ticking off their indiscretions on my fingers now.
"That was an accident!"
"You somehow set the swimming pool on fire, according to Sadie."
Sean opens his mouth, then closes it again. "Okay, that one's hard to explain."
"Your sister's a narc," Killian grumbles, turning his glare on Micah.
"Chlorine gas," Micah mutters. "It was chlorine gas, and it wasn't technically fire, it just looked like fire because of the—you know what, never mind."
I look around at all of them, these ridiculous, disaster-prone wolves who somehow became mine. They've been trying so hard to find an alternative, to avoid the one obvious solution that's been staring us all in the face since Ms. Morgan's visit.
"There is one option," I remind them carefully.
They all go rigid. A chorus of growls sounds around the room.
"No," Killian says flatly.
"I haven't even said?—"
"Villeneuve." He spits the name like it's poison. "The answer is no. It's bad enough he was here for the bonding."
"Killian, be reasonable?—"
"I am being reasonable." He starts pacing, his agitation making the bond between us crackle. "The man's probably some kind of fucking demon shifter."
"Is that even a thing?" Sean asks, frowning.
"No," I sigh.
"Getting him involved in our shit any deeper is a big mistake," Killian continues, ignoring him. "Thebiggest. And if the last couple of days have made one thing really fucking obvious, it's how many of those we've already made."
"He's already deep in our shit," I point out. "He supervised the bonding ritual. He provided the dragon's blood. He?—"
"Which is exactly why we shouldn't give him more influence over us," Rowan interrupts, his usual calm fractured. "Every time Villeneuve helps, he gains leverage. He's playing a long game, and we don't even know what theendgame is."
"You're all kind of paranoid," I say, my lips twitching.
"Paranoia is just pattern recognition for things that haven't happened yet," Micah says sagely. "I read that somewhere."
"That's not—" I take a breath, trying to center myself. "Listen, he helped me when I had nowhere else to go. He let mestay in his home. He protected me from Kyle, and he convinced me it was safe to trust you. In his own way."
That last one lands like a nuke.
They all stare at me, and I can tell they don't want to believe it. But they can sense I'm not lying through the bond. It's taken some getting used to, but there are plenty of perks and that's one of them.
