“No one dared move against Need after they heard the prophecy. They’ve been waiting for you, Vivian. To see which side of the war you would take,” Morgana finishes.
I swallow. “That seems like a really bad battle strategy on their part.”
This is ridiculous. People shouldn’t be deciding to move armies just because I exist.
It’s too much. I only want to worry about midterms. Those are stressful enough. I don’t want to add war to my plate.
You can’t just color-code war with highlighters and expect things to be okay.
A cool sweat forms on my back, and my vision darkens around the edges. I’m pretty sure I’m about to have a panic attack in front of everyone. That realization only makes it worse. My ears start to ring, blocking out the noise around me. The only sound making it through is my heartbeat, thundering in my ears.
I can’t breathe. The walls are starting to close in on me.
I try to gasp for air, but I’m distracted by the feeling of something touching my leg. I jolt in my seat as my leg is pulled up and placed on something firm. It takes me a second to realize Sin’s just grabbed my leg and is resting it on his thighs.
His fingers start tracing circles around my calf, and I try to pull back.
He doesn’t let me.
My cheeks flush, and I glance around the table, but no one is watching us. Sin looks like he’s comfortably sitting in his chair with his hands on his lap.
I narrow my eyes at him, and he winks, all the while continuing to massage my calf.
‘Stop it,’ I mouth at him.
He grins.
‘Make me,’ he mouths back.
He’s such a child.
Sin turns back to Morgana, effectively dismissing me.
Insufferable jerk.
The others continue to discuss the impending war, and it takes me a few minutes to realize I’m not panicking anymore. Sin distracted me long enough for my anxiety to stop spiralling. The realization has me frowning at my plate, picking at the food.
That makes no sense. Sin wouldn’t purposefully calm me down. He riles me up. The timing had to be a coincidence. He just grabbed me to annoy me and to drive home the fact that he can touch my body if he wants to.
I ignore how good his touch feels, trying to focus on my food.
Rosie whispers in my ear, “So, are you going to be up for it?”
“Up for what?” I ask, turning to her.
“The plan,” she answers, glancing at the others. “The one everyone just settled on.”
I choke on some bread.
Rosie pats my back as I try to inhale air instead of carbs.
“Sorry, I was lost in my own thoughts. What’s the plan?” I ask.
Sin must be listening in because he’s the one who answers.
“Us, kitten. We’re the plan.”
Chapter 27
