Page 65 of Let Us Prey

Fitz smirks, turning to look at me like a goddamn pervy asshole. “Please, Baby Girl, enlighten us about how you went soaring because that privilege has always been aboneof contention.” He snickers at his own pun like a teenager, and we could play marbles with all the eyes that roll simultaneously.

I’m annoyed by his nosey probing, but Delores beams at him before clapping her hands and bouncing on Chess’ lap. His pained expression makes me cover a chuckle with a cough, but I stay silent to see what she’s going to say.

“I got to ride Aubrey! We went suuuuper high and Rennie had to chase us because he doesn’t fly the same. It was so cool because how many people can say they got to live Game of Preds like the dragon queen! Draconis!”

Fuck. Now she’s done it. I can’t decide whether I’m aroused by her words or irritated that she’s going to get Fitz started on his dragon rider bullshit.

Her excited cry and wiggling are almost killing the cheetah she’s seated on, and the amusement I get from watching him struggle is worth the impending aggravation once her story sinks in with the others. Hell, I’m even feeling kindly enough to forgive her bringing up that travesty of a show.

They didn't take the time to properly research my people.

Felix’s brows disappear into his hairline as he realizes what she means, and Renard snorts. It takes another full minute before Fitz leaps from his chair to point at me accusingly.

“You let her ride the fucking lizard? Not cool, man. I thought we were bros.”

Sighing heavily, I take my glasses off and look at them, moving my eyes between him and Delores pointedly. “First, it was Renard’s fault. He was late to meet me because he was waltzing in the moonlight. Second, who would you rather have onyourback? A sweaty cat or a sweet bunny?”

That coaxes a giggle out of our girl, and a round of laughs from the rest of the guys. Fitz pouts and Delores rises with a sigh, walking down to the couch to drop onto his lap. She runs her fingers through his hair, giving him a fond smile, turning his grumpy frown into a self-satisfied smirk.

If she keeps spoiling him like that, he’ll be intolerable.

“Fine. Point taken, spicy lizard. But I’m going to want this story at some point, capiche?” Fitz waggles his finger, first in her face, then at the rest of us. “Flying is cool and all, butIbit that fucker’s head off for insulting her. That’s gotta count for something, right, baby girl?”

Her eyes widen, and she turns beet red, squirming on his lap. The other Khan didn’t react, so Felix wasn’t angry that Fitz broke the ‘no killing’ rules at the Games. Delores turns to Renard and me and mutters, “He did. I mean, I didn’t hear what he said or anything, but I’m sure it wasawful. That’s the stuff they’re doing all over social media and in class every day.”

Rage fills me, and I count to ten in Arabic in my head. My hand slips into my pocket to squeeze the new—annoyingly adorable—bunny stress ball Fitz brought me. Smoke puffs out of my nose as I work to regain control over the dragon as he writhes in anger in my gut.

He wants to fry the motherfuckers who are torturing her, but I have a better plan.

Before I can lose my cool, Felix shoots me an amused look. “If it’s bothering you so much, old man, we can look into it.”

“Yeah, we can,” Fitz mutters, tugging the girl on his lap tighter against his chest. “Just wait until I unleash hell on those bitches’ devices. The Winged Wonder over there will help me, I bet.”

“Guys, it’s okay. Don’t get yourselves in trouble just because those rich bitches and their pawns are determined to fuck with me. I can handle it.” Delores’ words sound more confident than the look in her eyes conveys, but I nod.

I’m still seething, but her kind heart doesn’t need to worry about shifters as old and crafty as the five of us. She may dissuade Fitz from seeking his retribution with pretty words, but based on the expression on the others’ faces, he’s not the only one who is eager to hand out much deserved punishment.

All our bunny needs to do is say the word, and we’ll swoop in like knights—dragons—in shining armor.

Dragons are especially excellent at settling scores—the painful, crispy way.

Trouble

Delores

“You didn’t tellus how your new pastel hair went over with Professor GrumpyPants,” Cori says as she threads her needle. My polar bear friend is impressively adept at sewing, which is why she’s the head costume designer for the entire theater program, while Chess only occasionally oversees—so we can say a professor is running things. Her eyes flick to the skirt she’s working on as she mutters, “Definitely a blind hem stitch here. The idiot who made this doesn’t know their ass from their elbow.”

Rufus snorts. “Look at the blush on Dolly’s cheeks! Woooo, girl, I think it went very well.”

Tucking my hair behind my ears, I pick at the buttons on the dress I’m holding. “I’ve had an enjoyable week, yes.”

The two of them howl with laughter, stopping their work completely to give me pointed looks. My face flushes hotter and I squirm under their gaze. Neither of them looks away, determined to drag juicy gossip out of me at all costs.

“Okay, okay. I spent the night at the townhouse after Pred Games. Things got… really hot.” I put my hands over my eyes, feeling exposed and unsure. “After prom, I didn’t have the chance to talk about losing my virginity with friends, like a normal teen—even with how terrible it was. I don’t exactly know how to do this.”

Cori scoots over and pats my shoulder. Her mouth is full of pins as she tries to comfort me. “Is oh-kay Dowwy. Don’ be shy.”

“We won’t tell a soul, Dollypop. You can share all the nasty details—especially if it’s about hot dicks,” Rufus whispers conspiratorially as he plucks buttons out of the jar to study them.

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