Page 18 of Godless Saints

His grin widened. “Come on. Is he as rough as the rumors say? Does he make you choke on that big Irish cock?”

I kept my face blank.

Sawyer lunged. I caught his arm in a hard grip, fingers digging in with enough force to hold him in place.

Kaelan threw his head back and laughed. “So touchy! The drama is intriguing. Carry on, gentlemen.” He gave a little finger-wave.

I spoke before he could turn, voice quiet and perfectly controlled. “Careful, Kaelan. You’re always loudest when Noah is watching. Careful it doesn’t start looking less like intimidation and more like performance for his attention.”

His amusement faded. I adjusted my cuff. “Run along.” Fucking asshole.

Noah froze in the doorway, eyes darting between me and Kaelan, then hurried away without a word. What the hell was wrong with him? Why did he never stand up to his own bully?

I hated this campus snark.

Kaelan was notorious for it. He threw shit like that to watch people squirm.

But… how the fuck did he know about Cillian and me?

Sawyer had already moved on by the time we reached the cafeteria. “You should’ve seen me on that steeplechase run the other night. Underground league is fucking insane, jumps in the dark, pure chaos. Best illegal shit on campus.” His fists were still tight at his sides, energy bouncing everywhere.

We passed the public Favor tally board in the main hall. Black marble slab. Brass inlays. Four enamel Court crests sat above the numbers—ivory star, silver moth, black serpent, powder-blue bloom.

A soft mechanical click. Numbers shifted. Vesper’s silver moth pulled further ahead. Aster’s ivory star sat stubbornly in second.

Vesper students clustered nearby, smug and whispering. One of them smirked in our direction. “Hey Aster boys, how’s second place feeling? Must be getting crowded down there.”

A group of Aster heirs stood off to the side, watching me. My performance was their performance. My failure would drag every single one of them down with me.

Sawyer didn’t miss a beat. He stuck his tongue out at the Vesper group and called out, loud enough for them to hear, “Jealousy looks fucking pathetic on you. In here you get to play king for five minutes, but out there you’re still nobody. Give us a day or two and Aster will own this academy.”

He slung an arm around my shoulders and steered me toward the cafeteria, voice low just for me. “Relax, Moon. They’re all talk.”

“Yeah,” I said quietly. “You’re right.”

I didn’t believe it for a second. Keep your face blank. Shoulders straight. One crack and it’s over.

We pushed through the cafeteria doors. The air hit warm and heavy with fried food and coffee. Aster’s section sat on the right under the high windows, polished wood tables already half-filled.

Vivienne looked up the second we entered. Her girlfriends sat around her. She slid over on the bench to make space for us.

Sawyer crashed into the seat. “Korolev wants to see me again this afternoon. Worth every second, though.”

Vivienne lifted a brow. “Didn’t I tell you to stop provoking Professor Korolev? This is starting to look less like rebellion and more like a full-blown crush.”

“You know you love the chaos, Vivi.”

I stayed silent. The tally board still burned behind my eyes. Father’s expectations. Coffee. Now.

My gaze found him across the room.

Cillian.

At the Thorn table. He looked up from his plate and that dark, hungry stare burned straight through me.

“Ashbourne,” Kaelan called. “Is staring at Aster’s prince official Thorn strategy now, or are you freelancing by trying to get into his pants in public?”

A few Vesper heirs laughed. Then more tables joined. The sound spread fast. Half the cafeteria was laughing now.