Page 68 of Demon Found

This thing is ancient, it emits a deep energy all of its own, the blade calling me to use it. It must be worth a small fortune, and Naeve justgavethis to me. My first Solstice present since I was four. I shove down the pang in my chest, threatening to make the moment sad. This is a happy thing, dammit.

My stomach growls, and I heave myself toward the door, massaging my temples. I’ve not eaten anything since yesterday. I just hope it stays down.

Easing my way down to the cafeteria, I pass Zephyr’s room. Hesitating briefly, I knock sharply. If any of them are going to be cool about this shitshow, it’ll be hippy boy.Please let him be chill.

“He left with Farrell,” says a voice in my ear. I pin its owner to the wall, my new blade nicking a tiny cut in his neck as he squirms.

Hewie. Shit. I drop him, and he stumbles slightly before catching himself.

“Sorry. I’m on edge.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He rubs his neck and pulls his hand back, inspecting the specks of blood. “Just a scratch. The other students do far worse, and theyneverapologize. If you want food though, you better hurry. Mealtimes are on reduced hours. There’s only a handful of us staying.”

I nod and watch him scuttle away. Poor kid’s family didn’t want him home. His single elemental status is an embarrassment to them. Who the fuck needs family like that?

I turn away from Zephyr’s door, giving it one last look before I follow my stomach’s growling to the cafeteria.

Both Zephyr and Farrell have gone. And neither of them even tried to talk to me. Although, maybe they messaged. I fish my tablet out my pocket and glare at the trashed screen. I’m not going to know until I work out how to get this damn thing fixed.

As I get in the very short line for food behind Hewie, I count my issues on my fingers. One, after Camille’s stunt in the exam, I’ll be in the lowest ten percent, which means trial by combat. Two, topping that, I came on to all three guys in front of the whole damn academy and there are pictures to prove it. Many pictures. Three, I’m alone for two weeks with a broken freaking tablet. Four, Farrell’s fucking engaged to my biggest hater. And five, I can’t have any of the boys.

I can’t have any of the boys, but I want them. All of them. That’s the real mindfuck.

Chapter Thirty-four: Farrell

Straighteningmytie,Iglance at my reflection. I’m the spitting image of my father. I bare my teeth in a pained grimace. At least I’m nothing like him at heart.

Except, maybe, I’m more similar than I dare to admit. I screwed up at the ball. Lorelei was wild and flirty, and rather than confront my feelings, I walked away.

I glare at the mirror one more time before I turn. I’m a damn coward.

Shutting my eyes, I take a deep breath and picture Camille. She’s a beauty, any man should be happy to be her betrothed. And before Lorelei spiraled into my life, I was happy. Well, if not happy then accepting. Camille is a powerful shifter. More importantly, her father has vast wealth, which he’s thrown behind our cause.

Since I first shifted, since it became obvious what I am, there’s been one goal. Rebellion. Restoring the rightful order. Ican’tscrew up now. I won’t.

If marrying Camille gets me there, fine. Or it was fine, until Lorelei made me lose control. It can’t happen again. Camille is my best chance at producing a worthy heir.

Still. There’s one thing I can do for Lorelei. I promised I’d find out what my asshole father was up to, and dammit, if I can’t be anything else for her, I’ll be a loyal allegiance.

There’s a sharp rap at the door.

“Enter.”

“Master Farrell.” The elderly wyvern bows his head, skin crinkling around his eyes as he smiles. “You bade me come to you?”

“Rise, Silas. We don’t need such formalities. You practically raised me.”

Silas peers rheumy-eyed at me and shuffles into the room.

“I have some questions and, given your position, you might be able to help.”

I turn the music up, creating background noise. I don’t need anyone listening in.

“My father has a plan for Miss Lorelei Smith. I need to know his intentions.”

“You’re asking me to betray your father’s confidence, young man?”

I quirk an eyebrow. Isn’t Silas on my side? The countless times he’s dusted me down, the advice he’s given me over the years . . . but what if I’m wrong, if he’s my father’s man?

---