“You make a lot of fucking noise for someone who doesn’t talk much,” I grumble into my pillow. He pokes his head around the corner and I glower at him, but the asshole only smirks.
“Get up. I want breakfast.”
“I want you to go fuck yourself,” I retort, and he laughs under his breath before disappearing back into his room. I sit up with a groan and rub my face, reaching for the half-smoked blunt from last night. Killian’s latest batch is leagues better than the shit that usually circulates around campus, and soon my bloodwarms as smoke burns its way down into my lungs, and for just a moment, the screams in the back of my mind are silenced once more.
For just a moment, the world quiets.
I grab whatever clothes I can find on the floor and pull them on. There’s nothing in my room that doesn’t smell like smoke at this point, but I don’t have any fucks to spare. I pull my hood up, stuff the lighter and an extra blunt into my pocket, and wait for Luther to finish primping.
“I thought you wanted breakfast,” I call out after another inhale. He rolls his eyes as he closes his bedroom door behind him, and then we’re walking down the hall, riding our private elevator, and exit the building. The haze of my smoke wraps around me like a shield against the thousands of prying eyes that watch me—watchus—waiting for their moment to strike.
Killian pretends to love the attention. Roth tolerates it—to a certain extent—because it’s expected of him, but Luther and I are the black sheep of our little band of brothers. Desirable because we’re Heirs, but nobody’s first choice. Which is why I don’t bother playing little games like Killian, or scheme and plot like Roth. Luther and I sit back and let the sycophants embarrass themselves competing for our attention and favor. As if anyone here actually gave a shit about us.
Greedy gazes home in on us when we enter the Great Hall. Out of the corner of my eye, I see more cleavage and legs peeking out from rucked up skirts than even Killian could gorge himself on. Our names are called our half a dozen times, but neither of us bother to look, beelining our table where Roth is already halfway through his breakfast. The drugs suppress my appetite, so while Luther hoards the cantaloupe Roth passes him, I inhale and lean my head back, closing my eyes as the smoke dances around me.
It’s not long before our peace is disturbed as Killian crashes into our table, to Roth’s annoyance. Through lowered eyelids, I see Roth glare at him, but he just grins and shrugs, scooting his chair closer to the table.
“Chill, man. Nothing spilled—don’t get your dick in a twist.” Luther’s lip twitches and I laugh under my breath, exhaling thick, white smoke as I close my eyes again.
“You guys see the new girl yet?” he asks. Something predatory flips a switch inside of me at the prospect of new blood on campus. Challenges to the status quo are inevitable as the newcomers find their place on the power hierarchy here. If we’re lucky, some shit for brains motherfucker will think he can unseat one of us from the top and we can let our monsters out to play. The very thought of it has my demon writhing against the confines of my skin. I’ll need to go for a swim soon.
“What new girl?” I ask, barely cracking one eye open. I can feel Luther’s focus shift to Killian as he crooks an eyebrow despite keeping his eyes squarely on his plate.
“Victoria was showing her around yesterday but she cockblocked me before I could get her name.” I’ve managed to keep my distance from the Hektreia daughters—and their mother—despite our parents' positions as Council members, and if this new girl has already aligned herself with them, I want no part of it. But shit like that doesn’t deter our big, bad wolf.
“Sounds like you’re slipping, Killer,” I can’t help but taunt. Killian chuckles as he practically vacuums his plate. Seriously, where the fuck does he put it so fast?
“That was foreplay, we’re just getting started. It’s about time we got some new blood in here,” he mumbles through mouthful of food. Roth suddenly goes still, and pulls out his phone, typing briefly, and we all lean in to hear what new bullshit his father’s sent.
“Need any help?” I ask quietly after he shows us the message. I know how much it fucks Roth up whenever his father contacts him. He’s tried to keep us out of whatever that sick fuck demands, but his “requests” have gone from merely being inconvenient to insidious. And Roth is always the one who pays the price.
He shakes his head and I watch him, searching for his tells in the way very few who are still alive can. It’s in his black eyes, those same ones I’ve drowned in so many times before, where the fuse has been lit, threatening to explode and consume us all unless otherwise redirected. He closes his eyes, struggling to contain the mounting pressure of his power, but when he opens them again, something captures his attention. His eyes widen and his chest hitches with a stuttered breath, but when I follow his gaze over my shoulder, nothing’s there.
For a split second when he looks back at me, we’re both equally confused. I don’t think Roth has ever been confused in his life. He’s a master of control, commanding attention and obedience. It’s something I’ve always admired about him, even when we were younger. Especially when I’m desperately lost and reeling out of control. He stands abruptly, and I have to stop myself from reaching for stop him.
“I’ll see you tonight,” he declares to no one in particular before moving through the throng of students casting wary glances his way.
“Thoughts and prayers for your ass later,” Killian mutters under his breath and I roll my eyes as Luther chuckles.
“I hope the new girl bites your dick,” I volley back, and Luther shoulders shake even harder.
“Jokes on you, I like a little bit of teeth.” He snarls at me with a feral grin, and my dick twitches at the display of aggression, but Killian and I aren’t into each other like that.
“You gonna eat that?” he asks, eyeing my untouched plate. I shove a slice of buttered toast into my mouth and slide the plate his way. He lights up like a dog with a ball—fitting for a werewolf. In just a few bites, he’s consumed the entirety of my remaining breakfast and pouts as he sees Luther’s now-clean plate.
“Seriously, where does it all go? Do you have a second stomach or something?”
Without missing a beat, he grabs his dick and says, “Goes straight to the cock, bro. How else do you think it got this big?” I shake my head as we all stand and make our way out of the Great Hall.
“See you after lunch?” Killian asks.
“Nah, I need a swim.” And Roth. Luther nods in parting and Killian blows me a kiss before they both head off to their first period classes. I relight my blunt and take a deep drag, and wonder once again how the hell Luther became a teaching assistant. He hates talking to people. What does he do, grunt and scowl when someone fucks up? Actually, that’s probably exactly what he does.
My high dies when I walk into my History 201 class to find Professor McCall more agitated than usual at my tardiness, which is saying something given she’s the most tolerant of my shit out of all my teachers.
But I’m an Heir.
And Heir’s don’t apologize to anyone.
