His gaze sweeps down my ensemble, taking in the shredded skirt-turned-bandolier, the cropped jacket, the boots, and the knife strapped against my thigh. “Welcome to Introduction to Ethereal Theory.”
I blink at him. “I have no idea what that is.”
He doesn’t look surprised. “Miss—?”
“Haide.” I snap off a little bow, possibly flashing my ass on the other side. “But some people call meholy shit, run.”
“I see,” he says slowly. “Well, Miss Haide, there are no mistakes at this school. You’ve been put in this class for a reason, even if it has yet to reveal itself. But something tells me I should note: here at Rathe U, we favor respectful discourse and regulated conduct. This is a school, which means you act accordingly.”
I stroll forward, boots clicking against the polished black stone of the lecture floor. “Yeah well, never been to one of those before so…not sure what ‘accordingly’ means. Sir, professor sir.”
“Take a seat,” he says tightly. “Before I assign you a disciplinary rune.”
“I mean you could try,” I say sweetly, then plop into an open chair in the front row, throwing my feet up on the table.
The chair beside me shifts. A boy with tan skin and a jaw likesin slides his things closer to the edge of the desk, clearly hoping whatever plague I have won’t touch his precious codex.
I smile at him, all teeth. “Don’t worry, I only bite when asked.”
He blinks rapidly.
“Though sometimes I don’t wait. Ask your king. The baby one.”
The silver-haired girl from earlier leans forward in her seat behind me. “You really don’t know who you’re sitting next to, do you?”
“Should I?”
She smirks. “That’s the heir to the Sable Stone. Lord Kael.”
I snort. “Sable Stone? What is that, some King Aurther shit? Because, girl, I would fight to the death for a good sword.”
She gives me a weird look, probably having no idea what I’m talking about. It was a giftless book, after all. One we found on the helicopter that crashed on the island.
Lord Kael shifts uncomfortably beside me.
Professor Bronze-Throat coughs again. “Let’s return to the lesson, shall we?”
“So, we just, like, sit here and listen?”
The man blinks at me and turns back to his floating fucking pictures and words.
I tune him out completely, trying to decide how to play it for when a certain royal shows up.
That little shit will show his face eventually, and when he does, I’ll find a way to make him hate the sight of mine.
I just have to figure out how to piss him off. Clearly, biting him was not the answer.
He seemed to really,reallylike that. And, ever since I did it, it’s like I can taste him in my throat.
I bolt upright in my chair as a thought occurs.
He loved it when I bit him.
Wonder how he’d feel if I bit someone else?
The thought coils warm and dangerous in my head, sparking awicked grin, but the second it fully forms, something tightens in my chest. It’s not panic or fear, but it’s undeniable…pressure.
Weird.
