Page 61 of Promised in Blood

“Why are you speaking in such hushed tones, Jerome? This is what we just discussed openly in front of all of our colleagues, is it not?”

He purses his lips. “But I have… well, there are parents and the school board to answer to.”

“A fact of which I am well aware.” Alexandros sighs. “But what exactly would you tell them, Jerome? That a student was murdered? To what end? This was an isolated incident, one which we will ensure will not happen again.”

Ollenshaw smacks his lips together, and his brow pinches in a frown. “But was it? Or is there more to this witch’s death than we have been led to believe?”

Alexandros scowls. “Enora told you what occurred. If you do not believe her account, I suggest you take that up with her rather than me.”

Jerome sputters, seeming to choke on his own breath. Enora Green is a powerful witch from an even more powerful family, and Jerome is clearly averse to getting on her bad side. “I did not say I don’t believe her account.”

Alexandros clenches and unclenches his fists beside me, and my annoyance mirrors his. There’s a pink-haired elementai I’m anxious to get home to. I felt her pain all too acutely when she learned of Meg’s death. Guilt threatened to overwhelm her when she thought herself responsible. Her expression when she saw Cadence at Silver Vale and the empathy that seeped from her pores at her friend’s distress told me what I already know. She makes me feel more than I’ve ever felt in my life, even as ahuman, yet it is only a fraction of what she experiences. I need to hold her in my arms and do whatever I can to take away her pain.

“Do what you feel is most appropriate, Jerome. But know that if you disrupt the delicate balance of this institution by encouraging hysteria and panic amongst the students and faculty without good reason, then there will be consequences.”

Jerome swallows hard, visibly blanching. I suspect he is as aware as we are that he holds no real power within these walls—that he’s a figurehead and nothing more. And the man standing before him wields more power than he can even dream of.

Chapter

Twenty-Two

OPHELIA

“Focus, Ophelia,” Alexandros snaps as his frustration with me grows deeper.

Asshat. Like I’m not frustrated too. “I am focusing! But we’ve been doing this for hours. I’m tired and I’m hungry.” And I want a hug.

He closes the distance between us with a single step. “Your enemies will not care if you are tired.” He dusts his knuckles over my cheek, and there is a tenderness there that does not translate to his harsh tone. “Nor will they care if you are hungry.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “Surely we have done enough for today.”

His lip curls, revealing a hint of his fangs and sending a shiver down my spine. I flutter my eyelashes. “There are much more interesting things we could be doing than lessons.”

He runs his tongue over his fangs, eyes raking hungrily up and down my body. “Do not try to use your body to bargain with me, little one. It will not work. If you flutter those pretty eyes at me again, I will force you to your knees and have you suck my cock.” He grips my jaw tightly. “And then we will resume our lessons.”

He releases me, and my lip juts out in protest. It’s so unfair that I’m the only one who suffers because of my stupid powers. Powers I didn’t even ask for.

His eyes darken, piercing into mine while anger radiates from him in a fierce wave. I swallow a knot of trepidation. I’m not sure I will never get used to his ability to read my mind. “Your powers are a gift, Ophelia. There are people who would die for even a fraction of what you possess. Do not disrespect the universe by wishing them away. Do you think that we do not suffer with you? That every day I do not wish we were not burdened with this knowledge?”

Resentful tears burn behind my eyes. “You think I’m a burden?”

He sighs, and it does nothing to soothe the anger currently burning inside me. Anger, Frustration. Lots of frustration. I lived without mind-blowing orgasms for nineteen years, so why can’t I function for more than a few weeks without one?

“I never?—”

“I don’t care what you were going to say,” I cut him off, and he snarls at my impertinence, unused to overt displays of disobedience. “I am not one of your sireds. You don’t get to pushme around and act like I’m your responsibility, because I’m not. I looked after myself just fine before I met any of you.”

I spin on my heel and march out of the room, half expecting him to come after me and irrationally growing more annoyed when he doesn’t. I head straight for the fridge and root around for something that will sate my hunger, except that I’m not hungry anymore. I’m boiling mad. My skin is on fire. My palms sweaty. I lean into the refrigerator, letting its cool air rush over my skin as I blow a strand of hair from my damp forehead.

“Looking for something in particular, sweet girl?” Malachi’s hand appears on my shoulder as he peers inside the fridge with me. “You want me to make you something?” he asks upon seeing the limited contents.

A tear rolls down my cheek, and I swat it away. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asks, his deep voice so soft and soothing that it makes me want to cry even more.

“I think the cupcake is feeling a littlefrustrated,” Xavier says with a wicked chuckle.

I slam the fridge closed and turn to him, giving him the fiercest glare I can muster. “Not everything is about sex, Xavier.”

He arches an eyebrow. “No?”

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