Page 137 of Centaur Bolt

As I mounted the steps, Havoc accused Tyrez, “You’re fucking Legion. Tell me I’m wrong.”

“You’re wrong,” Tyrez said, before turning his back and leading the way into the academy.

The three Bellatis—the guard had returned to the gate—fell in behind us. Havoc snarled at them, too.

“Deal with it, Dragon.” Cas’s hand clenched around the hilt of his spiral sword.

“It’s all right, Havoc,” I said. “They are just protecting the school. You need to chill.”

His copper eyes skidded away from mine. Chilled, he definitely was not. Cara would have her hands full with this one.

And Marcus—ice traveled through my veins. How was I going to face him after what I’d done?

But Fate had spoken. And it demanded that I shouldn’t have to choose.

I’d never been a huge believer in Fate. Now, my relationship with the two most important dudes in my life hinged upon it.

Could I convince Marcus that this was meant to be? Wouldn’t he have felt it too? That connection between the three of us? But I remembered how he and Havoc had argued…

With a sinking heart, I followed as we marched up the stairs to the fourth floor, and through the door leading to the staff quarters.

It wasn’t Cara who waited for us in the doorway of her suite.

It was Marcus.

* * *

He strode toward us, his gaze locked on me. Cara must have given him clothes—he looked sexy as hell in an academy tee shirt and sweats.

“Riley! Where have you been?” His eyes flared erratically as he glared at Havoc, and then took in my torn and filthy cloak with the bare legs beneath it. “You’ve been gone for over an hour—”

This brought him to within six feet of us. Which was when Havoc growled, very loud and very seriously.

Marcus froze. His gaze went from me to Havoc, and back again. And his nostrils flared.

“Just stop,” Tyrez hissed at Havoc, gesturing for us to proceed. “We don’t have time for this.”

The big turquoise Dragon held open the door. Marcus spun and walked back through it. I followed, and Havoc came in after me, trailing the Bellatis.

Havoc and Tyrez could fill any space, and with Marcus and the Bellatis, as well as the other Watcher, Bess, seated at the table, Cara’s spacious suite shrank in stature.

Marcus walked into the suite and leaned on the back of one of the chairs. He looked like hell, with dark circles around his eyes, but his injured shoulder had been healed, and his neck—

“You got your collar off!” I exclaimed.

He refused to meet my eyes. “Yes. It wasn’t as bad as last time.” He kept his gaze fastened on Havoc, who unhelpfully growled again, lifting a lip off a sharpened canine.

Marcus leaned closer to me, and raised his head, as if sniffing.

Dammit. I backed away and turned on Havoc. “Cut it out,” I snapped. He was making this ridiculously hard. “We don’t need a pissing contest.”

His copper eyes flared. “And why should I care what you want?”

Before I could stop myself, I raised a brow.

Marcus choked. And then, he stalked out of the room.

I ran after him. When Havoc tried to follow, Tyrez stepped between us.

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