Page 20 of Insatiable

“They’re not here yet,” Tomas points out, a smug grin spreading across his face. “Why not talk to me instead?”

My frustration mounts. “Are you intentionally trying to get under my skin, Tomas? Why don’t you go back to your new little slut?”

Rowena joins us on the bench, sliding in next to Tomas and nudging him over. “Who are you slut-shaming now?” she challenges, arching an eyebrow.

I stifle a groan, knowing Rowena will undoubtedly lecture me on my choice of words. “Tomas has a new girlfriend who’s younger than our own daughter.”

“That’s not true!” Tomas bursts out defensively. “She just sat next to me once. That’s it—totally innocent!”

"And proceeded to drape herself all over you and call you gorgeous," I retort bitterly, remembering how Tate’s long silvery white hair cascaded over his shoulder as she leaned into him. “Innocent, my ass.”

Rowena lifts an eyebrow in disbelief and I can almost see a smirk forming on her lips. Traitor!

“Aren’t you going to lecture me for slut shaming?” I snap, irritated with the pair of them, which is exacerbated by the lack of food.

“You already know my thoughts on that, but,” she turns to Tomas, “I am intrigued as to who your new girlfriend is. We’ve only been in this circle a couple of weeks. You worked fast.”

“He always did.” I grumble.

Tomas gives me a look that has my heart squeezing. “If you don’t mind, Rowena, I just remembered something.”

Rowena steps out of the bench seat to allow Tomas to pass her.

“What’s the deal with you two?” she asks when he’s out of earshot.

I sigh. “He’s only been here two weeks and already he’s fucking some young sl… woman. It’s gross! And have you seen her? Every time I’ve seen her, she’s wearing a low cut top with her tits nearly hanging out.”

Rowena raises an eyebrow and casts her eyes down to my own low cut top.

Annoyed, I pull my top up and cross my arms. “It’s different on me. That’s décolletage. It’s tasteful.”

Rowena sits back. “Why do you care? It’s been years. You’ve had other lives since the two of you were married. Hell, you’ve had whole deaths and, let’s be honest, you’ve hardly been a vestal virgin yourself.”

“That’s different,” I say, pouting. “I was single when I got my fun times with other men.”

Rowena shrugs. “And isn’t Tomas single now?”

“I hate when you throw logic at me when I want to rant. You usually love a good rant about men and here I am, giving you the perfect opportunity.”

“And you usually love to tell me how amazing they are. This is different. It’s personal. If I didn’t know you so well, I’d think that you still have a thing for Tomas.” She raises an eyebrow as if she’s challenging me to deny it.

Damn her and her logic and the fact shedoesknow me well.

“Tomas Perez was the love of my life,” I admit with a sigh. “He’s also the biggest asshole, cheating liar, that I’ve ever met. I’d rather stick a fork in my eyeballs than do anything with that man ever again!”

Both our Hell Cells beep before she has a chance to hit me with another grain of truth that I don’t want to hear.

My heart drops when I read the message from George

SURPRISE! YOU ARE ALL INVITED TO A MANDATORY PARTY. MEET UP IN THE DOWNSTAIRS CLASSROOM AREA IN TEN MINUTES.

Normally, the word "party" would fill me with excitement, but I sense that George doesn't quite grasp the idea that parties should be enjoyable for everyone—not just himself. Still, a flicker of hope ignites within me that he’ll whip up some delicious food again.

Rowena lets out a long sigh. “Come on, let’s get this over with.”

We make our way to the elevator, where we find Quinn waiting for us. George, Anthura, and Moloch are already gathered in classroom one. In the corner, Cerby, the three-headed hound, lounges lazily, its three sets of lips eerily synchronized as it laps at the air. Quinn, unfazed by the disgusting thing, immediately runs over to pat each of the heads.

Anthura leans in, whispering something to George. Her cold, flickering gaze lands on us, her lips curving into a smile that doesn't reach her eyes. "Welcome. Come and take a seat while we wait for the others," she says, her voice sickly sweet. But I can sense the malice lurking beneath it, like poison dipped in honey.

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