Wonderful.
“Come in.”
I stand, doing my best to wipe any trace of annoyance off my face as I move from the most uncomfortable waiting chairs toward his door.
If I had been even one minute late, he wouldn’t have seen me, yet having me wait for almost thirty minutes is perfectly acceptable.
Even worse, there’s nobody else here. It’s not as if he were in a meeting; he just likes to act as though he is above everyone.
He’s used to being the king and wants everyone to know it.
But this isn’t the ocean, and he’s only got so long to hold that over my head.
Once I’m free, I’ll never see him again.
The thought is enough to get me through this meeting… hopefully.
“Ah, Nolan, my boy!” He’s out of his chair and coming around the desk before I’ve even opened the door completely, coming up and clapping a hand to my back, hard. To anyone watching, which is only his secretary currently, I’m sure it would appearaffectionate, even playful. But I know better; something's up, and I’m sure I’m about to find out what it is.
He wraps his arm around my shoulder in a weird side hug, pulling me close and squeezing. I might be big, but my father still towers over me. Perks of being the king, I guess.
He loves to make other people feel small and powerless and never misses a chance to flex his muscles, both figuratively and literally.
The door clicks shut behind us, and I have to remind myself that it’s only temporary. I just need to get through this meeting, and then I can go on pretending he doesn’t exist. So long as I keep winning, he allows it, and life is easier, if not significantly better.
“So what brings you here? How is training? Are classes treating you well? Any special girls?”
I almost choke on the air in my lungs at his last question.
Never has my father asked me about girls, let alone cared to ask me about anything other than classes and competing.
I swallow down the urge to start the sentence with ‘um’ as I get my thoughts in order. He hates bad manners.
“Training is going well. Classes are just starting, but they shouldn’t be an issue. No special girls, but I am here about a girl, specifically the one you put in our dorm room.”
I know I’m fucked the second his lips pull up into a smile; it’s not a pretty thing. Not something I would associate with happiness, more so an evil villain or a crazy person.
No, I think I’d rather he be yelling than smiling.
“Yes, Wren. How is she doing? I trust a girl as smart as her is acclimating well.”
“She seems to be doing just fine, though I was wondering what made you place her in our dorm.”
His smile doesn’t waver, and I feel like I’m in the fucking twilight zone.Neverhave I been able to question my father,even if it really was just for the sake of better understanding something.
What was it that Julian used to joke about? Body snatchers… maybe they got my father?
No, that can’t be right, though, because through it all and behind that smile, I still see the cruel fire that burns in his eyes. He might be damn convincing with that mask, but there are some things you can’t hide, and I've seen those eyes blaze in fury enough times to know them anywhere.
“A shame, really, that she’s a dud. Her family was really something,” he says as if he didn’t just drop a bomb on me.
Adudis a rather rude term for someone born to parents who live outside the mortal realm, be that shifter, demon, witch, vampire, whatever it is, just not mortal, but who is born mortal, regardless.
It shouldn’t be possible if you ask me, and from my understanding, it’s increasingly rare, even rarer than the opposite, flukes.
Those born with magic from non-magical families.
But that’s not the only thing that catches my attention.
