Will it taste as sweet when it beats twice as fast, or does it thin and its flavor wane?
I crane my neck and glance at her wild mate—whose eyes bore into the back of my head like daggers—seated a few rows behind. I wonder if he could taste every note within her blood when he drank from her last night, or if the subtle intricacies were lost on such a...vulgar man.
Deliberately brushing Sienna’s shoulder with mine, I delight in the fury on her mate’s face.
When I have a proper taste of her blood—and I will—I’ll savor every single detail of her naked flesh and prove that she doesn’t need a wolf to sate her desire.
All she needs—all she’ll want—is the decadent devotion that only eternity can provide.
Chapter 13
Sienna
“Mating bonds,”Professor Hardwicke begins, “are essential to life itself. Without a mate, one cannot reproduce, and without reproduction, our species will eventually die out. These are the simple facts of life.” She beams at the crowd despite its lackluster response. For such a petite woman, she holds herself with absolute confidence.
I try to pay attention to my first class of the day—hell, of my entire life—but the pinprick sensation of eyes watching me makes it impossible not to twitch in my seat. This class is only for first-year students, and despite the number of students who were not admitted into Heartsflame this year, we’ve completely filled the seats. A few students hover over notebooks in their laps, but most, like me, are either unprepared or don’t bother taking notes from the lecture. A bead of sweat trickles down my neck.
I hadn’t thought to bring anotebookto an academy. How am I going to graduate top of the shifter class if I’m behind on day one?
“You are all here for the same reason, are you not? To find your mates?” The mating marks trailing down the sides of Hardwicke’s face are a deep blue, mimicking vines that curlaround the base of her chin and starkly contrasting the blonde locks tucked behind her ears. Not all mating marks appear on a person’s face, nor are all species’ marks the same, from what I understand. Still, she is a shifter, so the royal blue scar on her neck is eerily similar to the fresh wound on mine.
I guess Revyn had the right idea, even if his execution was shit.
Pain washes over me from head to toe, reminiscent of what I felt last night. It’s been coming in waves ever since I stepped out of my bedroom this morning. I close my eyes as nausea strikes and take deep, calming breaths until the pain dulls to an ache.
Fucking Revyn projecting his feelings. As if I’ll feel guilty about kicking him out. He’s the one who should apologize for fucking me overagain.I don’t know what’s going on between him and Alistair Dire—if there’s history there that I’m unaware of, or if Alistair was merely waiting for Revyn to leave so he could gut me in my sleep—I don’t know.
It’s thenot knowingthat bothers me the most.
Secrets are what get you killed.
I smooth out my clenched fists and refocus on the lesson.
“I didn’t realize I was taking Procreation 101,” a girl beside me murmurs, her vibrant red hair shining in the morning light. She smiles prettily at me as she clutches a brand-new, leather-bound notebook in her lap. Although most students chose to sit far, far away from the wild wolf and her brooding shadow, she and Callum are the outliers.
Revyn, on the other hand, is sitting two rows back from me and keeping the rest of the class at a distance, further increasing my breathing room by his presence. However, that doesn’t stop whispers from gracing my ears. Females hovering at the edges of our antisocial bubble murmur about thesmoking hot daddy wolfwho tried to claim a mate last night despite there not being a full moon.
I barely avoid cringing.
“I’m trying to listen,” I say back to the redhead, honest-to-gods trying my best to focus. The information in today’s lesson might be basic to nearly everyone in the room, but not to me. The parents within my pack took turns teaching school-aged children, but we learned how to count chickens and hunt wild game, not the definition of a mating bond and how necessary it is for having children—which is in and of itself, not true. There were many single parent families within our pack, some whose children were not born to them.
You don’t have to have a mate to raise a family.
But toproducea child?
I clench my fists in my lap. That topic wasn’t exactly covered in the Roane Valley pack’s evening lessons. The urge to glance back at Revyn hits stronger than ever, and I curve my neck and lock eyes with the shifter drilling holes into the back of my skull.
Not Revyn.
Goose bumps trail down my arms as Alistair’s eyes widen the smallest fraction, his nostrils flaring as he scents me. Gods, what is with the men in this school being so—so?—
“You’re bleeding,” Callum murmurs, lifting his hand to draw the errant droplet slipping past Revyn’s bite mark onto his fingertip. “Hold still, or your wound will reopen.”
My eyes flick from the crimson bead on his fingertip to his eyes, their depths suddenly the deepest shade of scarlet that I’ve ever seen. “Taste that, and I’ll kill you.”
A smile curves on his lips, exposing the twin fangs he doesn’t bother hiding. “Don’t tease me with death, Wildflower.” Dipping his head, he brushes his lips against my ear. “I’ll come.”
I rear my head back in shock at whatever the fuck I just heard and rip open my wound. Shit. Before I can cover it, Callum’s cold hand is pressed tight to my skin, soothing its throbbing heat with a gentle but firm touch. He chuckles in amusement, smiling likehe didn’t just admit that he’s freaky in bed, and uses his free hand to tear a strip of fabric from the bottom of his shirt. “Allow me, darling.” With quick hands, he loops the soft cotton around my neck twice and ties a bow directly over the bite. It’s tight enough that the fabric pulls when I swallow.
