Page 50 of Caelum

He’d come after me intentionally. Wanting to hurt me, to make me think badly of the boys who’d befriended me, who’d made my first weeks here bearable.

I wasn’t about to let him get away with that.

“What the—” he started, but he didn’t finish.

With every ounce of the Were simmering away inside me, I pulled my arm back as I’d seen Reed do, balled my hand into a fist, and let loose.

My target was off. That was the first thing I noticed. But when I glanced off Samuel’s sweaty cheek, I connected straight with his eye socket. He staggered back just as agony filtered from my hand to my brain. I shook my wrist as the pain came, but I ignored it, balled my other handinto a fist, and as he fell back with the force of my punch, I hit him with the other hand.

Before that fist could connect, I was dragged back and hauled into someone’s chest. I didn’t want to be stopped though, I wanted to lash out. Wanted to kick and scream at this boy who thought he could spoil my day, thought he could spoil my friendship with the only three people in my age group who’d extended a kind hand to me.

“You can keep your insinuations,” I growled at him, “and you can stay the hell away from me!”

Behind me, I heard Stefan say, “Did she just curse?”

I frowned, aware that I had, and though I winced inwardly, I allowed Nestor to haul me away from Samuel who was being dragged back too. Reed was scowling at me, as was the boy he’d just been beating in the ring.

Ignoring them both, I twisted in Nestor’s embrace and hissed at him when he wouldn’t let go. “He shouldn’t have talked to me like that,” I spat when Stefan approached me from the front.

“What did he say?”

His hair was all over the place. It looked like someone had been using it as a handhold in one of his fights, but I wasn’t sure what he’d been doing since he hadn’t been in the ring. I’d have watched him and not Reed if that were the case.

His skin gleamed with sweat, and his bright eyes were sparkling with curiosity and… was that humor?

Inside, the soul raged even harder, wanting to give Stefan the same treatment as she’d given Samuel.

Maybe Nestor was right not to let go of me because I would have hit Stefan too if I’d been free.

Like he read my thoughts, Nestor tightened his grip on me and dragged me farther back. My heels scraped against the gym floor as he hauled me away from the machines and to the area where there was a metal podium as well as a faucet for fresh water.

Eren had my bottle in his hand, and he was filling it up. I watched him warily, eying him as he moved toward me and pressed the opening of the bottle to my mouth. I nodded and parted my lips, letting myself drink the small amount he poured in there.

The cold water chilled the banks of rage inside me, not dousing them exactly, but cooling me down somewhat.

After a few sips, I rasped, “You can let me go, Nestor.”

“You sure? You still going to attack Stefan?”

“Not so long as he doesn’t say anything else stupid.”

Stefan scowled as he lifted his shirt up by the neckline and wiped his face on the fabric. Nestor’s chest, by contrast, was naked. I could feel him through my own shirt.

Was it wrong that I didn’t mind the idea of his sweat and mine intermingling?

I pondered the thought, knew it would be considered a sin back home, but ‘back home’ wasn’t exactly my haven anymore, was it?

This place was.

“I didn’t say anything stupid,” Stefan retorted.

“You were laughing at me,” I told him, my tone flat, but deep inside there was hurt brewing.

“Because you just punched Samuel, Eve. He’s someone most of the guys avoid fighting, and you went back to smack him again. It’s funny.” He shrugged, but the move wasn’t exactly apologetic.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “He insinuated I was some sort of…” How did I phrase it? Prostitute seemed a little strong. I wasn’t Mary Magdalene, after all. “Jezebel.”

Stefan cut Nestor a look. “She a slut?”

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