Page 91 of Gift from the Tree

I continue to watch as they transport out, staring at the spot they just were.

After a few moments, Oakly comes back to stand beside me, linking her arm with mine. “Come on, we need to get changed for class.”

“Oakly, why do I feel this way about Tillman—fuck, even Corentin sometimes, when I have Draken? What’s going on with me? Hussy hormones,” I say frustratedly, blaming hormones even though I don’t think they have much to do with it right now. It’s not my time of the month yet, which leaves me with some confusing fucking feelings.

She laughs and nudges my shoulder. “It’s not abnormal for people to have feelings for multiple people here. Most females end up with a Nexus, which is four males. You’re having feelings for two, maybe three, it’s fine. Plus, you live and spend a lot of time with all of them.”

It doesn’t feel fine. It feels like I’m betraying Draken by having sexual thoughts and feelings toward his brothers. We didn’t say we were exclusive, but I’d probably flip the fuck out if he showed another female attention.

Walking into the changing room, deep in my head over my conflicted feelings, I don’t see Gima’s crazy ass walking toward me until she gives me a hard shove, sending me to my ass. She’s been a grade-A bitch every damn time she comes around me, but usually, I just ignore her and go on about my day, but this is the first time she’s put her hands on me.

“Watch it,” Oakly hollers, shoving Gima back while I climb to my feet.

“What the fuck is your problem?” I yell.

“You’re my fucking problem. I’ve told you countless times now to stay the fuck away from them,” she growls, stepping closer to me again. Oakly tries to step in front of me, but I pull her back beside me.

“First of all, they aren’t your fucking men to dictate who they can and can’t be around. Second of all, they don’t fucking like you. Draken can’t even remember your name, Tillman ignores you, Corentin runs for the hills every time you come around, and Caspian wouldn’t give a fuck if you fell off the face of the realm, so back the fuck off me.” I shove her hard, sending her a couple steps back before her cronies behind her steady her.

“I will end you, bitch,” Gima screeches at the top of her lungs, preparing to dive headfirst at me.

“What the fuck is going on in here?” Corentin’s voice booms, looking between the two of us.

“Oh, thank Elementra you’re here. She’s crazy. She attacked me out of nowhere.” Gima throws herself at Corentin, tears and everything, putting on a fucking show.

“That’s a fucking lie, Gima. You shoved Willow as soon as we walked through the door.” Oakly jumps to my defense immediately.

Corentin pushes Gima off him without even a second glance and walks up to me. “Is that true? Are you okay?” he asks softly. But I’m pissed and over this fucking girl’s shit.

“I’m fine. She keeps doing this shit because of you.” I shove my finger in his chest hard, turning on my heel and going to grab my stuff out of my locker, Oakly following right on my heels to her locker beside mine.

I have no fucking idea why the crazy bitch keeps coming at me over Corentin. There’s nothing going on between us. Sure, I live in his house, and he bought me a communicator, and he fixes my coffee every morning and watches me in Air Elemental almost daily… Okay, well, when I start naming shit off, I can see why the stalker would think that, but it’s platonic. Nothing’s ever happened between us.

“Are you okay? I should’ve punched that bitch in her face.” Oakly snarls as soon as we shut ourselves in the stalls to get changed. Her anger makes me laugh, and it soothes some of the rage inside of me.

“Yeah. I just don’t fucking understand her and why she targets me. There’s nothing going on between me and Corentin. If she were coming at me over Draken, okay, I might understand,” I say, tearing my clothes off in a fit.

“Well, that’s why. She looks at them as a package deal, one for all. Seeing you with Draken, she thinks you’re with all of them, including Corentin,” she says, shaking her head.

“Well, fuck her. She doesn’t get to decide that for all of them. They’re grown-ass men and can be with whoever the fuck they want to be with. She isn’t entitled to them because of her obsession with Corentin.” Thinking about her and Corentin causes a surge of jealousy to spread through my body. The thought of any of them being with her or, well, anyone, sends a blinding rage coursing through my veins.

Struggling to get my shirt on, I finally throw it on the ground, panting, pissed off. “What the fuck is wrong with me, Oakly?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you. You’re worried about Tillman, maybe even Caspian, and confused about them. Also feeling guilty about it because of Draken and then that bitch just attacked you out of nowhere over Corentin. You’re pissed and rightfully so. Nothing’s wrong with you.” She looks at me understandingly but also with a small fucking smirk on her lips.

“Come on, Corentin’s instructing the class while Tillman’s away, and I’m sure he’s an even harder asshole with training than Tillman,” I tell her as I pick my shirt up and shove these emotions way down.

Get the fuck over it, Willow, you’re a one-man woman. Act like it.

The first two days Tillman and Caspian are gone fly by between studying and hanging out with Oakly, spending my nights with Draken, and training with Corentin. I was one hundred percent correct. Corentin’s an even bigger asshole about training than Tillman. Our morning sessions are killer, and he doesn’t take anything off for me the way Tillman will sometimes when we’re sparring.

Tillman, sometimes, would at least cushion my falls, but not Corentin. He just slings me around like a rag doll, then yells “again” every time he knocks me on my ass. It doesn’t help I’m feeling hot and bothered after every morning of having his hands all over me, leaving me horny and pissed off at him and myself.

Combat class is canceled today since Ry’s off on the mission with Tillman, and Corentin doesn’t have time in his schedule to fit both classes in. Even though we had the option to still go to the training fields and practice on our own, I opted out, heading to his office, hoping to catch him off guard so I can talk to him about going to Oakly’s on break.

Walking down the hall toward his office, the door’s cracked, and I can hear him on the communicator, a feminine voice on the other end coming through.

“Can’t a mother just ask her son how everything’s going in his life?”

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