“It’s … uh … fine. No worries. Seriously.” I burbled the words, nearly incoherent as my mind spun. The boys were acting very, very weird. Like super protective.
If all of the Midnight princes knew and believed the same backstory of the Crescent Clan’s banishment, that my uncle killed their dad, then why would any of them be nice to me? Either some of them questioned those events, or they knew I had nothing to do with it. I was a baby at the time. Their actions didn’t seem fake or forced, but was I reading them right? My instinct said yes, and I was 87.2% sure they liked me.
Maybe even Rage—well, ‘liked’ might be a little much. Tolerated was better.
I studied Honor and Noble; they both had hazel eyes, not the same vibrant green like my mate’s. I certainly didn’t get mate-vibes from either of them, more like pack-support vibes. Which left only Rage and Justice as mate-possibilities if, in fact, the asshat who kissed me was one of the Midnight princes.
“Hey, guys. Hey, Nai.” A blond dude who I’d seen around campus plopped in the sand at my feet,mercifullyproviding a distraction from the conversation about my eating habits.
The guy was stacked, his muscles jacked like a football player’s—the big ones who always tackle the smaller guys—and his emerald green eyes were warm as he appraised me.
How did he know my name? He was a guard, and though I’d waved to him going from my late-night dinner shift, I’d never spoken to him.
“You in for beach volleyball?” he asked as my eyes flicked to the Midnight Pack moon mark embroidered on his t-shirt.
But he had those green eyes. I was a connoisseur of green eyes and full lips now. Was this my mate?
I raised my eyebrows. “You want to play volleyball … at night?”
It wasn’t super dark yet, but volleyball wasn’t my thing. I was more of a stroll along the sand kinda gal. If dark worked as an excuse, I’d use it.
“It’s not like we can’t see,” he responded, his smile softening his reproach.
He was a looker—that’s what Lona would’ve called him—and while I leaned more toward tall,dark, and hot, this guy had me rethinking my preference.
“Touché.” I scooped up another mouthful of salsa while I asked his name.
“I’m Beowulf,” he said, grinning. “Like the poem.”
I choked on my food—again—because I’d read that epically long poem from a billion years ago for English lit. After I finished my coughing fit, I asked, “You do know what happens to Beowulf at the end, right?”
“Yup.” He winked. “But that’s after a goodlonglife.”
This time when he grinned, his smile was feral, and his eyes sparked with fire. He radiated power so strong it was a palpable force, and it took conscious effort to raise my chin in defiance. While I could respect Beowulf as a dominant male, I refused to submit to his display of power.
He extended his hand. “Come play with me, Nai. I promise not to bite—unless you want me to.”
Before I could respond, Justice growled, “Go hit on someone else Beo. Nai’s with us.”
Um, what?My eyes widened, and I glanced at Justice out of the corner of my eye. Did he really just say…
“That’s how this is?” Beo glared at the princes before grumbling, “Fine.”
He kicked the sand and then waltzed off.
That was … awkward. And weird. I sucked in a breath and turned to tell Justice I could handle myself when Noble stole my vehemence.
“He’s a total player, Nai. You dodged a bullet,” he said.
“Beo probably has herpes,” Honor added.
I shook my head, trying to reboot my brain so I could make sense of this new version of reality, and my gaze collided with Justice’s. His eyes narrowed in a look I could only call possessive, which made zero sense, unless…
My heart skipped a beat.
Glancing away, my attention landed on—surprise!—Rage. Vitriolic anger poured off him like it was intentionally his namesake. The tension simmered just under his skin, his muscles clenched so tight I thought he might explode.
What … the … hell? How dare they?
