“The fuck?” he muttered, running a hand down his face and cracking his eyes open. Once he listened to the sound from the living area from Grayson and Mirella, he sneered. “That’s delightful.”
“Tell me about it. In the shared area when there’s two rooms they could’ve gone in and closed the door. How was Human Studies?” I asked with an eye roll.
“Couldn’t tell ya.” He bit back a smile. “I was too distracted staring at—”
“Wren,” Grayson moaned, and bile inched up my throat as Lachlan’s mouth fell open.
Both of us turned toward the open door in time for a loud slap to ring out.
“What the fuck!” Mirella seethed. “You said you were never into that fox like that! Why would you be moaninghername instead ofmine?”
“I’m not!” He cursed under his breath. “I mean, I didn’t! Did I?”
“Yes, you fucking did!”
The door to our suite slammed once, and then again.
“How is that kind of entertainment free?” Lachlan chuckled, sitting up and swinging his legs to the side.
“I wish Wren would let Damien maim him,” I muttered, and he nodded.
“Disturbing that he’d be moaning her name, though. Why won’t she let Damien do his thing?”
“She’s worried about a woman named Alice. She was her mother’s best friend and raised her since she was five. But in all honesty, she did the bare minimum.” I scowled, getting up. “Wren deserved more than she got.”
She could’ve done more for Wren if she didn’t have her head stuck so far up her Alpha and Luna’s rectums.
“She’s sweet, but she’s fiercely protective of those she cares about,” he said, rubbing his scruff that was turning into a beard. It had to be itchy.
“She’s got a fire in her,” I agreed. “Too bad that mutt didn’t stick around to find out.”
He frowned. “What’s the deal there?”
I opened my mouth to tell him but paused. “If she wants to tell you, she will. I can’t be telling her business like that.”
“I get it.” He hopped up and rifled through his bag before sending a black ball through the air at my face.
I caught it, encasing it in a sphere of ice at the last minute. “What the lousewort?”
He snorted, shaking his head. “We’re going to have to teach you regular cuss words. Lousewort? Really?”
Rolling my eyes, I used the wind to throw the ball back at him, and he grabbed it, crushing the sphere of ice with one squeeze.
“Impressive,” I muttered. Werewolves’ strength was on par with vampires’ so I supposed it made sense.
“Thanks.” He put the ball back into his bag before offering me a slip of paper. “Try out for faeball, dude. You’d be brilliant!”
“Faeball? The sport from my realm?” I cocked a brow. “I didn’t know it was played in Kalista.”
He gasped in an overdramatic, offended way. “Thorn, faeball is the shit. You’re a fae. You have to play. First years would own it with you on our team.”
Faeball was a game that used to be played between fae kingdoms before war broke out. It’s a sport where fae use their powers to score goals. It was a hit, but I didn’t know it made waves in Kalista.
“I’ll think about it,” I told him, and he grinned. “How’d Wren do in Human Studies? Was she okay?”
His face turned serious as he stared at me. “She was quiet. Intent. Listening to every fucking word Mr. Angelo said. I swear at times, she’d get angry. She wasn’t even feeding into Damien’s antics, which was surprising even to him.”
Frowning, I nodded. “That’s both good and bad.”
