Page 33 of Forged in Blood

“We didn’t know she’d be there, sir,” Malachi offers. “We had no idea.”

“I did,” I admit with a sigh. Malachi shoots me a look of concern, but he knows as well as I do that there’s no hiding anything from the professor. “She asked me about the Trials, and I told her to stay away, but I should have made sure.”

His nostrils flare, and his dark eyes bore into mine with such ferocity it makes me wince. “Yes, you should have.”

“I doubt it would have stopped her, sir,” Malachi says, risking our sire’s wrath by defending me. “She doesn’t exactly stay out of trouble.”

“No, she finds it like a goddamn heat-seeking missile,” Axl adds.

Alexandros is still scowling at me, and I glare back, daring him to say the words that I know must be in his heart. How he wishes he’d never turned me. How I’m a constant disappointment to him. Instead, he directs his attention to Axl. “Where is the girl now?”

Axl answers. “Back at her dorm. We went by there before we came back here to check, and she was sitting in her window.”

“And Ronan?”

“I warned him to stay away from her. He ran off with his tail between his legs,” I say.

Alexandros hums. Thinking.

I was so goddamn stupid for believing she’d do as she was told. She’s the most infuriating human I’ve ever met. I should have chained her in our fucking basement. Weshouldchain her in our basement. It’s the only way to keep her from getting herself killed. I recall Ronan’s filthy hands on her. The jealous, possessive vortex of rage that swelled in my chest and threatened to swallow me whole. Ophelia Hart is mine.

The professor takes a few steps closer, his eyes searching mine. “Did he question your warning? Give any indication that he wouldn’t heed it?”

“I think he got the message, but it’s worth repeating.” Plus, I want to know exactly what’s going on between him and Penelope.

Axl grunts his agreement, and Alexandros gives a single nod of his head, effectively dismissing us while giving his approval.

“I’m sorry,” I tell him, but he spins on his heel and walks away, not bothering to acknowledge my apology.

Chapter

Twenty-One

AXL

“You saw the way he looked at me, right? Like I’m a constant fucking disappointment to him?” Xavier grumbles.

I roll my eyes. Not this again. “It’s all in your fucking head, Xavier. He looks at us all exactly the same.”

We stop in the front yard of Onyx Dragon house. Ronan and his sidekick, Simeon, will be skulking around here somewhere, licking their wounds after we annihilated them in the fight. I have no idea how they seem surprised to lose to us every single year when it’s such a regular occurrence.

“You’re imagining it,” Malachi adds. “He was disappointed in all of us.”

“But I was the one who fucked up, as usual. I was the one who should have stopped Ophelia from going to look for fight night. I should’ve?—”

“Yeah, this time it was you, fuck-knuckle.” I punch him in the arm. “But you have such a fucking chip on your shoulder.”

He cracks his neck and grumbles something unintelligible. From the moment I met Xavier Adams on the streets of New York, I was fascinated by him. His blue eyes and sharp cheekbones—not to mention the dimples when he cracks a smile—are fucking mesmerizing. He has an easy confidence about him that draws people to him like a magnet. Yet inside, he harbors deep insecurities that color his every interaction with the world.

The moment I saw him, I knew I wanted him. What I didn’t realize was what a giant pain in my ass he’d become. It makes sense that never feeling good enough for his biological father, who threw him out of the house at eighteen and turned his back on him, left an indelible mark on his soul. But I wish to fuck he’d get over it.

“There they are,” Malachi tips his chin in the direction of the bushes planted along the side of the house. Sure enough, Ronan and his fellow commander, Simeon, stroll toward the front porch, the latter fishing a stray twig out of his long hair.

I flash Xavier and Malachi a grin. “Let’s go have a chat, shall we?”

We’re on them before they make it to the porch. I wrap a hand around Ronan’s throat, and Xavier takes Simeon in a headlock, twisting his arm behind his back. They both snarl, and Ronan tries to wrench from my grip, but I hold him fast. “What the fuck do you want with the pink-haired girl?”

He struggles, and I squeeze tighter, my clipped fingernails digging into his flesh. “I’d rather not rip out your throat, fuck-knuckle, but I will if you don’t answer me. And I will make it fucking hurt.”

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