Page 62 of Wicked Chains
And sometimes, a name is all you need to start unraveling secrets.
Twenty-Eight
Rose
The last thing I want to do is go to classes, but I need to watch myself and stay in line rather than risk attracting Ash or Helena’s attention. I slip out of Soren's class as quickly as possible, but not before catching his gaze tracking me like I'm a fancy dessert being wheeled by on a cart. He’s been undressing me with his eyes all period, which is equal parts annoying and arousing, a combination I'm getting way too familiar with at this point. Not to mention the bold hand placement on my ass when I walked by him on the way in. Professor Professionalism, everyone.
"Rose." His voice catches me just as I reach the door.
I stop, one foot already in the hallway. The last of my classmates file past, a few giving me knowing looks that make me want to trip them.
He waits until the room empties before approaching, and I catch his hand sliding down to grab my ass one more time. I bat it away without looking back.
"Nice try, Professor."
His laugh follows me into the hallway.
I'm still shaking my head at Soren's audacity when I feel Hank shifting in my pocket.
"Hey, Hank," I say, patting him. "Ready for lunch?" I’ve recently learned that Hank is perfectly capable of going long periods without needing to eat. In fact, he may never need to eat, which makes sense for a magical familiar. But, he does seem to enjoy a little snack. I’ve also found out that frogs are carnivorous, which is moderately unsettling, but it does mean that I won’t try and feed him chocolate chip muffins anymore. He’d prefer shrimp cocktail, I’m guessing.
A soft croak answers me. Having Hank with me is comforting, especially after recent events. Makes me feel like I have a friend, instead of navigating the halls of the academy alone, hearing everyone snicker and their comments about ‘liking to be on my knees’.
I couldn't give two fucks about what those pretentious, spoiled snots think. My frog’s a better soul than any of them could ever be.
My stomach growls, After tossing and turning most of the night, I'd overslept and barely made it to Soren's class on time.
I turn down the main hallway that leads to the dining hall, mentally preparing myself for the stares and jeering that will inevitably follow. Maybe I can grab something quick and eat outside, despite the cold.
"Rose Smith."
The precise, cold tone of Helena Wickersly stops me in my tracks. She stands in the middle of the hallway like she's been waiting for me.
"Headmistress." I nod, trying to step around her.
She shifts to block my path. "Not so fast."
Great. Just what I need. "Can I help you with something?" I ask, fake politeness stretched thin over my words.
"You caused quite a scene at our Family Day celebration." Her eyes are daggers. "Insulting some of our most prestigious families."
Of course this is about that. I should have known Thorne's daddy would run straight to Helena to complain about the mean poor girl who dared to talk back and not eat his shit sandwich.
"If by 'caused a scene,' you mean 'defended myself against their blatant classism and cruelty,' then yeah, I guess I did." I cross my arms. "The Hawthornes and the Kents are terrible people."
Helena's eyes harden to black diamonds. "The Hawthornes contribute more to this academy in a single year than you are worth in your entire miserable life, Miss Smith. And Bartholomew Kent sits on the International Council of Magical Regulation."
"You don’t say," I mutter.
"Do you have any idea the position you've put me in?" She steps closer, and despite myself, I take a step back. "Elias Hawthorne is threatening to withdraw his considerable financial support unless I, and I quote, 'teach that feral charity case some manners.'"
"Sounds like a Hawthorne," I say. "I guess the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree."
"This is not a joke, Miss Smith." Helena's voice drops. "Your behavior reflects on me, on the Blood Moon Coven, and on this academy. I will not tolerate your disrespect any longer."
I feel Hank shifting anxiously in my pocket. "Look, I'll apologize if that's what you want."
"Oh, it's far too late for apologies." Helena's gaze drops to my pocket, where Hank's movement has caught her attention. "Is that your familiar?"
