Page 4 of Monster's Heart

You would have to be a real fucking moron to do that, and I was not. I glance quickly back toward where the little Witch had stood reading the extra credit sheet only to find she’d already left.

Damn.

“What are you doing in the corner by yourself?” Draugr asked, head canted to the side.

“Nothing,” I snapped, annoyed for no particular reason at all.

I did not want him to know about my voyeuristic habits, and I sure as fuck did not want anyone to know who I was watching. Amrin Cordoza was even more invisible than I was. The only reason Draugr knew me was because of our connection through our Nordic ancestry.

Not many Monsters at Blackthorn were descendants of either the Aesir or the Vanir, the two houses of the Viking gods. I’d given him a wide berth since our arrival, knowing what he was doomed to become. But the Draugr had defeated his fate by finding the one Witch in all the world who could sate his thirst.

“Be seeing you,” he grunted, pressing his hand to the small of his mate’s back as they walked off.

Something kindled in me as I watched them walk off together. It was a cold feeling that seized my gut.

Was it jealousy?

Perhaps. I’d never experienced it before, and it put me in a right foul mood.

I pushed off the wall, rushing out past the throng of giggling idiots I was forced to spend time with.

“Oh, if isn’t our resident Hobgoblin. How are you today, Sten?”

Gunner slapped me on the shoulder, and I had to stop myself from lashing out at the Werewolf fucker. I was really not a fan of furries. Not the normals who dressed up like animals as their kink, but furries as in the half-beast bastards who sprouted fur whenever the fancy took them.

Anyway. I was not a fan. Like, not at all. If your entire family line was constantly under the threat of a Pack of psychotic cosmic Werewolves, you might not like them either.

But few people at Blackthorn knew who I was, and this asshole certainly didn’t. My blue skin, horns, and tail tended to throw most people. Hobgoblin, though, that was a new one. Perhaps I would play into it for a while.

“Fine, Gunner. Are you just in from a good game of fetch?” I asked, head canted in mockery of his own stance.

He snarled. So stereotypical. And I snorted. The male was not worth my time.

“Better be careful, blue boy, or next time I’ll play catch with your fucking balls,” he snapped.

“Did you just say you wanted my balls in your mouth?” I asked, my grin widening. “Sorry, old boy, but you’re not my type.”

“You mother—”

“Excuse me, guys, I don’t mean to be a bother,” a small voice interrupted what was sure to be the best fight I’d been in all year, and I spun, huffing an annoyed breath till I saw her.

It really was her. My Witch. Er, wait, not mine—fucking hell.

“What?” I asked, sounding more growly than I intended.

“If you two are going to smash each other’s brains in, do you mind looking at my notes first? I asked around and apparently you have the best grades in Astronomy,” she said, and I swear, my cheeks heated in pleasure at the unexpected compliment.

“Yo fatty, do you mind? Me and Hob over here are about to throw down. But no worries, I can do a little wrestling with you after. Thick girls make cushy fucks for guys like me,” the stupid dog said.

That was it. Last straw.

I spun on my heel, faster than either Gunner or his two mates expected, and wrapping my tail around his throat, I hoisted his dumb ass right off the floor. Then, with a snarl, I squeezed until he went an incredibly pale version of blue in the face.

Honestly, I never understood why people said that expression blue in the face. My face was blue, a brilliant shade of cerulean that I got from my father. This motherfucker was turning white with red and blue veins popping out, especially around the eyes.

Whatever.

I gave him one more hard squeeze before sending him crashing into the far wall.

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