Page 106 of Promised in Blood

I stand and tuck my dick back in my pants before pressing a kiss on her forehead. She almost takes me out with a smile. “Thank you,” she whispers.

Wanting to prolong this moment as long as possible, I tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “No. Thank you, Cupcake. It was an honor.”

Alexandros watches me intently, a look in his eyes that I cannot read. “And thank you for letting me have this.” Because he could have taken this for himself had he chosen to. I know that he wanted to. I could feel him longing for her and wishing it was him buried inside of her instead of me. Magnanimity is not a trait he displays often, and I have no idea why he did so today. But whatever his reason, I am grateful.

He gives me a nod.Go find your brothers.

Chapter

Thirty-Seven

ALEXANDROS

Every hair on my body stands on end as though I have been electrified. His presence has always had the same effect on me, but that sensation is magnified times one hundred today. I have no idea if that is a result of the changes in my own powers, or if it is because the stakes have never been this high before.

I close my eyes and suck in a deep, calming breath, but it does little to ease the raging swell of anger and anxiety that swirls within my chest. He is here. On campus. And I have too little time to warn her properly.

I concentrate on her alone, blocking out all other noise. Blocking out everything but her, and that simple act already does something to calm the storm inside me. I find a peace in her that I have never experienced, and the irony of that—given the turmoil she has already caused and will surely bring in my future—is not lost on me.

Ophelia!My tone is sharp, too harsh for her, but we have no time for pleasantries.

Alexandros?She is surprised and more than a little annoyed, but her innate curiosity makes her answer me anyway.

You must go toThucydides Library. Take all the boys with you, and do not leave until I tell you it is safe to do so.

What? Why? Are?—

They are all safe, I assure her, knowing she is thinking of the boys and her friends.You will all be safe. Just do as you are told. I do not have time to argue. Go. Now!

I think Axl and Malachi are sleeping. I’m in class with Xavier. I’ll…Her anxiety seems to swallow the rest of her words.

I change my tone, aware I need to soothe her, if only to prevent her powers from showing up in the middle of class.We are in no danger, little one. Just do as I say and all will be well. Go with Xavier immediately. Tell your professor you feel unwell.

My father’s energy grows closer. I feel him probing the edges of my consciousness, and a shudder travels down my spine.

I’m leaving right now.

Thank you. And Ophelia? This is of the utmost importance. You must stay out of my head. Do you understand me?I can block out my father, having done so for most of my life, but I have no idea how her powers affect mine or, more importantly, whether he will be able to detect her somehow. The sooner we learn the full extent of her power, the better off we will all be.

I understand.

Good girl.I wince at my choice of words when the current of desire ripples through her and into me. But there is no time to give it any more thought. He is here, standing outside the door to my office.

I block Ophelia out and shout for him to enter before he gets the chance to walk in uninvited, which he surely would have done. He steps inside, and his huge frame fills the doorway. I inherited his height, his build, and so much more from him. His dark-brown eyes that smolder almost black when he is angry. His cruelty and his impatience. I constantly fight to tamp the former down, and for a long time, I succeeded beyond what I imagined myself capable of. But those parts of me—of him—are always there, beating within my chest as vibrantly as my own heart.

He snarls. “Son.”

“Father.” I give him a cursory nod and indicate the chair opposite mine. “It is a surprise to see you.”

His response is another snarl, but he takes the proffered seat, crossing his legs and resting his ankle on his thigh. He glances around my office. “You were supposed to be the president of this institution, not a mereprofessor.”

“We built this place to ensure the continued survival of our house and of our kind. Whether I am the president or a janitor, the results would be the same. Do I not provide you with an ample supply of pledges to be turned every single year? Do Houses Chó_ma, Elira, and Thalassa not get the same? Are they not forever in our debt and our servitude because of it?”

He avoids my glare, choosing instead to inspect his fingernails. After seeming to find them to his satisfaction, he lifts his head, and his dark eyes burn into mine. “House Drakos built this institution to ensure the legacy of all magical beings, andyouwere supposed to be at its head.”

I bang my fist on the table, sending a stack of term papers to the floor. “I am. Jerome Ollenshaw is a mere figurehead. Everything of importance that is handled within these walls is overseen by me.”

He runs his fingertips through his thick black beard and brings them to a point beneath his chin, his nostrils flaring as he works to reign in his temper. The last time we fought, I tore out his throat. It was almost five hundred years ago, but I am sure that memory still stings as keenly as if it were yesterday. It was the first time I bested him and the last time he laid a hand on me.

---