Page 77 of Lost and Bound

The angelic duo at the front is all shimmer and smiles, the color of their jackets appearing more golden than ever. I wipe my eyes and realize it’s actually the golden threads blurring my vision. Weirdly, I feel comforted that they’re back.

I glance between Seraphina and Michael before focusing on Seraphina. Her aura is impossible to ignore. She might be a celestial, but this girl is fool’s gold—pretty to look at, nothing worthy underneath.

Michael leans in to whisper against her ear, and her eyes drop to the food in front of me. Even before she opens her pretty pink lips, I already know where she’s going to go.

“Hmm.” Her voice rings like church bells, silencing the students around her. “How uncouth, you’re eating cake for dinner. Can you be any trashier? No, wait, don’t answer that.”

She grins, turning slightly to face Michael first, then the crowd. Unsurprisingly, they’re all laughing and already twisting her words to repeat them at me. The pack mentality is in full bully mode tonight.

I keep my eyes fixed on her alone, talking over the noise her disciples make. “Food shaming seems beneath you, but it’s also not the reason you’re here. What gives?”

By her reaction, I can tell that she thought I wouldn’t dare answer her. A flash of danger and cruelty races across her features before she masks her true feelings behind an angelic smile. Which is weird because I’m pretty sure everyone here knows or has experienced firsthand her unique brand of harassment.

She waves her hand around, and like a conductor, her supporters fall quiet. “What gives? I’ll pray for you. Hopefully, then one day, you’ll get a better handle on the language we use.”

“No need to pray for me,” I interrupt her, spurred on by a blaze of inner confidence. It seems my mouth is running faster than my thoughts. “I don’t think our faith or morals are in sync.”

Michael’s hand wraps around her arm, in support and warning. He takes a protective step in front of her, while her other most loyal supporters adjust their stances too. Do they seriously think I would take them on in a fight?

“Come on, Maya, let’s go,” Orion says quietly, knowing each word I say is only making things worse.

But bad is bad, and I’m already going to be facing her wrath. So I wave him back, finally glad to have the crowd’s attention on me so they realize what type of person she is. And if she attacks, the more witnesses the better.

She scoffs, shaking her head as she sidesteps Michael. “I heard you were quite the actress and all this,”—she waves her hand—“only confirms it. Besides, I was simply coming over to give you a friendly heads-up that the auction is done. I’ll introduce you to your new owner at the party.”

“The fuck you will,” I hiss.

“Ugh, and you’re vulgar. What a surprise.” She makes a noise, like I’m testing her patience. “And before you get all caught up in semantics, all Noms are now expected to attend tomorrow’s full moon party.”

Behind me, from the entire Nom section, a wall of shock rises. I don’t get the time to twist around to see what’s going on, because I’m more worried about myself. Seraphina turns and walks off, and like the sheep they are, her flock follow her, hurling abuse as they go.

It takes a while until the space around our table clears, but it doesn’t truly empty, because at the back—or maybe they were in the thick of it and I simply didn’t see them—stand Arlan, Emrys, and Bael.

I read their emotions using their auras. Bael’s darkness pools on the floor, spreading its reach far and wide, and the intense color of it and his eyes reflects his mood.

My pulse quickens, spurred on by the first time we met, but also by the malevolence he does little to disguise. He stands next to Arlan, who is drinking me in. When he grins, he makes sure I see the tip of his gleaming white fangs. The threat in the gesture is as obvious as when he actually carried through and bit me without permission.

I move from him to Emrys, who is right next to him, holding his phone in his hand. His energy is like a storm—disappointment and contempt swirling above him.

Clearly, he blames me for something.

Despite his roiling emotions, the purple strands of his aura close the distance between us and curl around my ankles. I should freak out that he’s touching me, but despite his obvious disdain, his aura settles me. Which makes no sense, and all it means is that I don’t focus my attention on the smaller details. I keep it locked on the bigger picture—on them.

“Why are you all looking at me like that?”

“I was right all along,” Emrys says quietly. “I didn’t want to be, but a video is worth a thousand words.”

Any confidence I feel plummets at the way he speaks. It’s cold and controlled, despite the low volume being seductively intimate. I’ve seen him angry, felt his rage rain down on me, but this is something else entirely. It also makes no sense.

“What do you mean by video? I haven’t done anything!”

His eyes don’t move from mine. “And yet this clearly suggests differently.”

I shake my head, not agreeing, trying to figure out what the hell he’s talking about. “You’re freaking me out, Emrys.”

I talk like there is a connection and history between us, which is not true at all. While I know that fact with every fiber of my being, it’s like we have something between us, which is illogical. They’re holding my belongings ransom, for shit’s sake. These are not men I can trust, but like nearly everything at Thales, including them, there’s a hidden knowledge that not everything is as it seems.

Emrys breaks the moment we share, his focus moving back to his phone. Whatever he’s watching, he doesn’t like what he sees.