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I smile in wonder.
“Do you feel it, too?” Ashton whispers. His hands have moved up to my waist, over Sindri’s hands.
“It’s changed,” Sindri says just as quietly. “Altered. Feels like a bond forming between us. Is this what Ophelia is trying to do?”
“Only she says they won’t sleep together until the end,” I say, my limbs weighing a ton, my head heavy. I could go to sleep like that, held between them. “Why doesn’t she try to sleep with them now if it could make her magic stronger?”
“Good question. Maybe something is preventing this from working for her.”
“Her bitchiness?” I suggest. “Her perversion and evil ways?”
“There might be something in what you say.” Sindri sounds thoughtful.
“Can’t be as simple as that.”
“Of course not. When is it, ever? But somehow it seems your magic and hers, though fundamentally the same, work differently. This could be the key to the riddle.”
“Too many goddamn riddles,” Ashton mutters. “We’re like monkeys jumping on a keyboard trying to write the complete works of Shakespeare.”
“Oh no,” Sindri says in mock horror. “Who needs another set of those? Have mercy.”
It makes me want to kiss him again. “Okay, let’s recap. We talked a little, fucked more, my knees hurt from the hard floor and we still haven’t got any answers, and I’m still missing my other two boys.”
Why can’t I live in the moment, be happy with what I have and not worry about the rest?
Because more is at stake than your momentary happiness or your sexual relief. Even if it comes with a dose of rebuilding magic. This is about the boys’ lives and safety.
And possibly about the fate of the world.
Isn’t that a nice, heavy burden to bear?
Walking around school after that feels so frigging weird. I feel as if everyone can see right through me, see the bite marks on my neck that Ashton left (I’m wearing a shawl to cover them) and the bruises left on my hips by Sindri, and the way I feel bruised inside but in a good way. A reminder of what we did, how amazing it had felt.
Howright.
But it almost feels like the fae tattoo on my back is glowing in neon letters through my clothes—slut, slut, slut—as I hurry from class to class.
Jason doesn’t make it to French class, but I see him passing outside so I’m not that worried. And Ashton doesn’t make it to History class but I know that he said he’d be at the library studying.
Emrys worries me. Sindri left him in his room last night but none of us have seen him since.
Where is everybody?
But that’s just as well. I need a moment on my own to gather my wits. I’m torn between running outside to squeal with happiness—my boys want me, there wasn’t even any practical reason for sex this time, nobody was hurt or leaking magic—and hiding in a corner as I try to figure out what is going on.
My stomach makes my decision for me. It growls like it’s also about to transform into a beast, so I head to the refectory instead. I know Melissa and her friends may be there, so I’m wary of coming across her. She said she’d get proof of the boys being cold-blooded murderers and although I don’t believe her—I don’t, no way—what if…?
What if she has proof?
Not wanting to risk finding out, because I can be really cowardly when I don’t want to face my fears, I keep an eye out for her as I get my tray and my food.
And run smack-dab into Brianna.
“Mia. Just who I was hoping to see.” She grins at me.
“What do you want?” I mutter, glancing around for Zoey and her gang. Her girls haven’t bothered me ever since Ophelia appeared on the scene and I got complacent.
Her brows wing up. “I just wanted to see how you’re doing.”
