Page 95 of Puck & Her Blades

Zev is close behind me; his chest is hot against my back.

“Don’t worry, I know how to play the press, along with our Head Alpha, better than anyone,” Zev whispers. “It’s a game that I’ve been practicing for years. So, this is dangerous, and there will be consequences, but we’re going to face them together. Trust me, love, this door leads to the beginning of your new life. Are you going to walk through it?”

CHAPTER 13

Study, Blade House

“What the hell is wrong with you? Why would you select the Reject mascot as your new Omega?” Roarke bellows.

I jump.

Roarke stands in front of the huge, mahogany desk in his study in Blade House, glaring around the room like he can stab each one of us in turn with his fury alone.

His burned coffee scent dominates the room.

Pale morning light streams through the wide windows out onto the gardens, which are heavy with snow.

The study is dreary, cold, and full of sharp corners.

A cabinet lies along the back wall, which is stuffed with gleaming trophies and medals. It reminds me painfully of the one in my parents’ house that they showed me proudly throughout my childhood. It’d contained everything that they’d won throughout their legendary skating careers, alongside my own trophies.

A fireplace with a marble mantle runs along the far wall but it hasn’t been lit.

I shiver, chilled.

Jackson and Zev are lined up in front of Roarke with their hands held smartly behind their backs like he’s their drill sergeant.

Except, Zev is still only wearing tight leather trousers, and Jackson’s shirt is buttoned up wrong.

I’m kneeling on the floor, struggling not to cringe.

Jackson and Zev created a wall of protection in front of me, as soon as we entered the study. Roarke can barely see me over their shoulders, and it’s the first time that I haven’t minded kneeling because this is something that we discussed last night.

We were going to play Roarke’s own prejudiced expectations against him.

Cygnus is kneeling next to me. He’s shaking. He smells of burned sugar.

I run my fingers through his hair to calm him, before pulling him closer against my side to warm him.

He’s only dressed in soft lilac pajamas because he was dragged out of bed to join us. His hair looks mussed, and his eyes are sleepy and scared.

We were up late last night, and he needed his rest this morning.

He didn’t get it.

Fuck, I’m glad that at least Asher hasn’t been dragged in here.

Silver linings to him not being bonded, right?

It’s barely after dawn, the morning after the ball.

These are the consequences, which Zev warned me about.

I guess I simply thought that I’d get more than three hours sleep before facing them.

Zev shrugs one bare shoulder; the sparkles from his hair have scattered all over his skin now after our wild dancing together throughout last night, and he shimmers. “Technically, coach, the Omega willingly walked in after she was invited.”

Crack — Roarke backhands Zev.

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