Page 67 of Devoured

He doesn’t glance back at me. Sin must sense I’m close to snapping again because he slides between me and his cousin with a princely smile. Of course, that’s also directed at Arielle. “She’s here to see me. We meet sometimes so I can help her master her new gifts. She was also blessed by the Capricornus stars.”

“You mean…” I look at Arielle as she swats away a burnt-orange lock of hair. Her tan face is beautiful and perfectly unblemished, though there is a youthful fear in her warm brown eyes. She’s pretty, but she’s afraid.

Of course she’s afraid, I think. She has just been locked inside a castle with monsters.

Suddenly, I don’t feel as jealous anymore. My anger is no longer directed toward Calix. I’m mad at myself. Arielle is just like me. She didn’t choose this. If she had, she wouldn’t be trying to fade into the wallpaper of Sinclair Severi’s bedroom.

“You’re a Dreamweaver?” I ask her.

Calix growls as if I’ve overstepped—at least he’s glaring at Sin this time—but I sit up, posture rigid, and force a composed smile. “It’s okay,” I say. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Calix gazes at the ceiling as if he wishes the floor would open under his feet. “Whatever,” he snaps. “Tell her if you want, Arielle.”

“Mind Reader.” She has the voice of a mouse but lighter, breezier, almost sounding like one of the storybook fairies Sin and I were discussing only moments ago. Her gaze doesn’t find mine, but it rises from the floor to stare at my scarred ankles. “Queen Cora said it’s a rare gift that I need to hone.”

I bet Cora did.

Mind Reader.

One of the rarest werewolf abilities. I haven’t met anyone else who can read minds yet, and—shit. According to our lessons, they can hear any thoughts so long as they’re focusing on a person. Has she been listening to everything I’ve been thinking?

“Yes,” Arielle mumbles. “But it’s really not my fault. I can’t help it.”

“Shit,” I say.

Calix sighs. Shifts uneasily. And I want to strangle him—

“He isn’t usually this angry,” Arielle says to me, finally lifting her gaze the rest of the way. “Just around you.”

Calix stiffens.

Sin grins wider, extremely pleased by whatever is unfolding here. “Arielle has been a terrific student.”

“I can see that,” I say, all the while I think—don’t think about anything don’t think about anything don’t think about anything.

“It’s fine.” Arielle shuffles her feet. “I’ll try to read the prince’s thoughts instead. He’s very good at disguising them.”

“A lifetime of practice,” Sin declares, as if this is an achievement and not the reddest flag that’s ever been waved. “You don’t mind if Vanessa sits in on our training, do you? She can’t really leave—”

“Yes,” Calix growls. “She can.”

My claws threaten to split my nails for the first time in days. What is his problem? “Do you want me to crawl? I can’t even stand.”

“Clearly,” Calix says, as if this is my fault. He prowls toward me and braces his hands on either side of my body, challenging me with yet another glare. “I can carry you.”

“Where? To a table in the Great Hall so the vultures can pick at what’s left of me?”

He bares his teeth in a hard smile. “It’s not the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“He’s frustrated that you’re hurt,” Arielle interjects. “He is mad at himself for not realizing and saving you first. He wishes Cora had tortured him instead.”

Oh.

I glance down at his hands, then back up at his face, confused.

Calix closes his eyes again, his muscles coiling tight with rage. “What did I say about reading my mind, Arielle?”

Arielle clears her throat demurely. “Don’t.”