I wonder if Francesca, Bonnie, and Odesa get the same treatment for killing somebody.
Something tells me they don't.
My stomach churns, reminding me of the light breakfast that Ember had delivered to my room this morning. It threatens to revolt on me as I remind myself of the fact that Francesca and Bonnie are likely to be in this next class.
There's no point avoiding them, though. That's not what this is about.
I'm here for me.
I'm here for my priority list that Greta and the girls helped me piece together, and if that means I have to face Francesca again, then so be it.
She won't be my downfall.
My pulse thrums as I make my way up the stairs of the main academy building. Determination rising inside with every step I take, and only when we reach the room does Archer press his palm flat against my stomach, halting me in place. My muscles clench from my core right down to my thighs as my eyes meet his. Need, which I refuse to acknowledge, floods through my veins at his simple touch, but it's uncertainty that I see in his blue eyes.
“Are you sure you want to do this? I can walk in first and kill them,” he offers, catching me off guard.
“You wouldn’t,” I say, and he gives me a pointed look, confirming that he, indeed, would.
Instinctively, I press my palm against his shoulder, which only seems to make my skin run hotter.
I'm already screwed, and this day has barely begun.
Clearing my throat, I attempt to calm the war inside of me. “When the day comes,I'llbe the one to do it,” I admit, surprising both of us as I jolt back, almost wobbling down the first step, but Archer catches me before I fall to my demise.
Where the hell did that come from?
Quickly shaking my head, not wanting to know, I stare pleadingly at Archer, who doesn’t seem too interested in prying any further either, as he moves his hand from my stomach to my back, guiding me into the room.
The second I step over the threshold, my gaze immediately lands on Francesca.
She sits perched against her desk, arms folded over her chest as she eyes me from across the room.
The taste of anger is like acid on my tongue as I fight against the magic inside of me, begging to make an example of her. Instead, I think I might do something worse; so I lean into Archer's touch as he guides me toward the back of the class.
I feel the heat from his fingers as they flex, every movement registering despite the layers of clothing that sit between us.
He bypasses his empty seat as I make eye contact with Baron, Sax, and Teddy before falling into the chair beside the Water Protector. I'm acutely aware of Silas on the other side of me as well, but I'm not mentally or emotionally available to deal with anyone else right now.
Only when I'm seated does Archer find his spot, but not before pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. A move that not just Francesca sees, but Silas, Teddy, and just about everyone else in the class as well.
It seems I may not be held in such high regard here as I was when I was the Angel of Heaven’s Ridge, thank goodness. But it doesn’t mean I haven’t still found myself on display for everyone.
The second Archer's chair scrapes across the floor and he falls into his seat, Francesca rises, prowling toward me at the exact same time my second least favorite person here enters the room.
Bonnie.
A grin curls her lips as she flicks her hair over her shoulder, but she doesn't step as close as Francesca, hovering back a step as the leader of the Fire Protectors,mysupposed leader, looms over me.
“A real phoenix, it seems,” she muses, a light smile to her lips that doesn't match the darkness that frames her eyes.
It’s sad how pretty she is, really.
The way her glossy hair and flawless features gleam, even under the poor classroom lighting, is wasted on a vile bitch like her.
“Fuck off, Francesca,” Teddy grunts from beside me, planting his hand on my thigh.
I should brush him off, remember that he's my hated mate, but I take strength from it instead.
