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“This way.” Wilder brushed past me. “It’s already done up for you.”
I nodded, accepting this. “You knew I’d change my mind.”
“I knew you wouldn’t want to sleep somewhere you didn’t feel safe. Basic human instinct that years of advancement can’t drive away. Neanderthals headed for the nearest cave for a reason. We hate feeling exposed.”
I accepted this too. “I won’t be any trouble. I’m neat, clean, and I don’t blast music like an asshole. Also, I’ll buy my own food and stay out of yours. I don’t know what the payment situation is here, but I’m paid till the end of the semester for Abbott Hall. If you need me to pay for staying here, I can. I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me. Let me know how I can repay you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Sinclair.”
Warmth spread in my chest.
Wilder finished, “You wouldn’t be here if I thought you were trouble.”
Said warmth vanished. Of course Wilder covered his bases, checking up on the second Sinclair sister about to invade his cave.
I reached out to touch him and my fingers fell short. I returned them to my side. Wilder couldn’t be clearer on his feelings about disinfectant-free groping. I could give him the respect of heeding his boundaries, after he pummeled six guys who disrespected mine.
Wilder took me through the kitchen where three pairs of spoons paused in their cereal bowls. We headed for the stairs to the sound of chairs scraping back and footsteps trailing us.
“Lady Luna, you’re here.”
Why did such a harmless nickname make me want to duck my head?
“Yeah,” I replied uselessly.
Cato pushed through them, getting uncomfortably close to my face. Apparently, that’s only cool when he does it.
“Are you okay?”
I tripped and grabbed the railing to catch myself. I didn’t spare much thought to what Cato’s voice sounded like, but a deep, silvery trill that snuck in my head and burrowed inside to stay for the rest of my life, was not it.
“Yes,” I said softly. “I’m okay.”
“Did Langford take care of you?” Rafael demanded.
The first reply that sprang to my lips was I didn’t need to be taken care of. Then I remembered I said close to the same thing to him before I marched into my dorm and was attacked by Owen and Levi. The men I blew off for protection, had to burst in and protect me. My blustering didn’t hold water with these guys.
“Katie’s not really the nurturing type,” I amended. “She did let me sleep and eat chef-prepared meals in her bed. That was more than I could ask for from a girl who barely knows me, and it was what I needed.”
“Owen, Levi, and his buddies slept on itchy, piss-stained cotton and ate hospital food. That’s also what you needed.”
I covered my chest, skin prickling recalling the state they found me in.
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about.” Lucien rested a barely there hand on the small of my back, guiding me on. “It’s those guys and the parents who failed them who should feel ashamed. When we’re through with them, mortification is the kindest emotion they’ll feel.”
“You say the nicest things to me, Lucien.”
“Then you can’t have met many nice men, for I am just getting started.”
I did duck my head then, hiding behind my curtain of hair. I didn’t know many nice men. The only man I had regular contact with while living in the boarding school, was the priest who performed Sunday mass. It was optional for us to attend, but I went most weekends because Father John was a cool dude who chuckled at my endless questions and brought news of the outside world.
I didn’t come to Regalia expecting to meet more kind, pious men. I knew here be monsters. And they shocked me with their cruelty all the same.
Only a monster could think to carve his ownership into someone’s skin.
“Did you tell your fiancé what happened?”
Rafael’s expression gave nothing away, though I thought I sensed an edge when he said fiancé.
“Victor doesn’t know. No one does thanks to you guys breaking their phones. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“We won’t tell a soul,” Lucien said, “and this isn’t me suggesting that you should, but in our quest to make these men pay, Victor Wilson could be a valuable ally. The only thing that matters more than money in Regalia is status. Losing it would splinter their armor before we strike the first blow, ensuring devastation. If anyone has the power to drag those guys as low as a Dreg, it’s a Wilson.”
Owen’s promises to his reluctant friends came back to me. “But Victor said no one listens to a freshman—Wilson or not.”
“That’s true,” Rafael added, “but we’re not talking about who hosts the summer bonfire. They hurt the fiancé of someone who’s years away from becoming one of the most powerful men in Regalia, and the country. If Victor demands the older Royals punish them, they’re not about to ignore the guy. One day, he’ll be an enemy you don’t want to have. And if you two do get married, you’ll both remember who didn’t help you.”
