I stared at the spot where she disappeared.Did that just happen? Did that really just happen? Sabrina didn’t try to ditch me when I was walking over a lake of lava, being chased by hellhounds, or under attack by a murder of carrion crows. But this guy...
I slowly looked down on the angelic face resting peacefully on my lap.
...sent her slithering for the hills.
Lucifer’s voice whispered through my head, crowding out my own. “Rulers and kings are for societies that believe in order and hierarchy, and demons believe in nothing but power.”
Just how powerful was this guy that he could turn a room full of howling jackals into meek little puppies, just by walking inside?
“Who are you?”
“Ronin Belphe, of course.” Two plates clapped down next to me, and so did six feet of hard, packed muscles and smoldering eyes. “How do you not know who Ronin Belphe is?”
The werewolf I bumped into not once, but twice raked me up and down as he arranged his food in front of him. He had twotrays, and they were loaded down with meat, meat, and more meat. I clocked pork, turkey, lamb, goat, and venison just with one look.
“Every demon knows who Ronin Belphe is,” he went on. “So why don’t you?”
He picked up a turkey leg and his jaw elongated. Vicious, throat-ripping fangs erupted from his gums and fell on the cooked meat—shredding the meat from the bone with ravenous hunger.
“I... I...” I was too distracted by the head on my lap, and the turkey juices flying on my face to string my sentence together quickly. “I’m not—”
“You’re not a demon, are you.”
I stilled. Eyes wide, jaw hanging, muscles stiff—I stared in frozen astonishment at the gorgeous supernatural model covered in drippy meat juices who was gazing back into my eyes like he saw right through the warts and rotting teeth... to me.
“Wha...” I forced a laugh. “What are you... talking about—?”
“I didn’t catch it at first,” he breezed on. “I was too busy laughing my ass off, but after you walked away, I realized you said something after you walked into me”—his piercing eyes stuck me through—“sorry.”
I blinked.What?
“Never, in my whole fucking life, have I heard a demon apologize,” he said, making the sweat drip beneath my collar. “That, and you ride hellhounds,andyou don’t know who Belphe is?” He scoffed. “No way you’re a demon, so spill it. You’re wearing a glamour, right? A real fucking ugly one. Why?” he asked, shooting me through the heart with question after question. “Who are you really?”
My heart was pounding so fast, I was certain everyone in the too-silent mess hall could hear it.What am I supposed to do? If I confirm I’m wearing a glamour, won’t that make him ableto see through it? This guy was hostile to me when he thought I was a demon. What would he do when his sees I’m a human woman?
That thought stopped me cold. Everything I knew about werewolves came from fiction novels and teen movies. Would he hurt me? Would he turn me in? Would he lock me up in some secret basement in the academy, and breed me for half-werewolf hybrids? How would I know?! Where is Sabrina when I need her!
This guy wasn’t letting my silence slow him down. “Well, if you’re going around throwing sorrys all over the place, you can’t be a leech or fae either,” he mused. “And if you were a werewolf”—he inhaled a deep breath, expanding that hard, lickable chest—“I’d smell it, glamour or no, so— Ahhhh...”
A grin curled into his cheeks, and popped free a dimple that made me blush like a silly mare. I wasn’t used to being in close proximity to men this handsome.
“You’re one of the Others,” he announced. “And you’re not allowed to enroll in Abaddon, so you showed everyone up during the trials, and then got yourself enrolled here because fuck the rules. Nice.” He delivered a punch to my shoulder that almost popped me out of my seat. “Good for you, throwing these stupid enrollment rules back in their fucking faces.” He spat out a thoroughly gnawed turkey bone, and then descended on a leg of lamb. “No one wanted me here either, but who gives a shit what anyone else wants? No one tells me what to fucking do, or where to fucking go. We’re the same,” he announced, smiling into my eyes even though I had yet to say a word, and said smile was giving me heart palpitations.
He dropped his voice. “But between you and me, which one of them are you? Because I’ve never heard of any of the Others having an affinity with hellhounds. Are you an ogre? Nymph? Fury?”
“Uhhh...” My brain fritzed out. “Maybe you could tell me your name before asking me my deepest, darkest secret?”
He laughed—a loud, booming sound that made Ronin stir.
Almost a quarter of the demons in the room straight dropped their forks and walked out at Ronin’s slight twitch.
“Fair enough.” The werewolf held out his hand. “I’m Tristan.”
“Tristan,” I repeated, rolling it around on my tongue. “Nice to meet you, I’m Char... lie. Charlie.”
I raised my hand to shake, but Tristan’s hand glanced off my knuckles.
Grasping my wrist, he pulled me forward and wiped his mouth on my ruffled sleeve. “Cool to meet you too, Charlie,” he said over my outraged choking. “Look, we’re probably not going to talk again, because now that Ronin’s got his hooks in you, you’ll be dead before the end of the day.”
