Page 25 of Defiant Princess

“If you don’t need me, I should probably go, too,” Alexander says, glancing at the moon, which is already so much lower in the sky than it was when the party started. “I should be back at Lupine before the brotherhood and read them the riot act for being out after curfew. Since the president approved their secret meeting, they won’t get in trouble, but I’m not supposed to know that, so…”

“Why would she do that?” I ask, thirsty for more information about my mother, this woman who, so far, seems to be on the wrong side of history.

As a kid, I always assumed my mom must have been the “nice one” in the marriage, since Hammer was such a piece of work. In my observations of couples in our pack, and in books and movies, there was always a “nice” one. I imagined my mother was a sweetheart who, if she’d lived, would have given me enough kisses and cuddles to make up for all Hammer’s strict discipline.

But maybe Hammer and Coralie were a better match than I thought.

“Money,” Catherine says, setting the lantern that will signal the surgery was a success on the ledge for Ford. “It’s always money.”

“Or power,” Alexander says. “Or control.”

“But money gives you both of those things,” Catherine counters as she tucks my implant into a simple silver locket and snaps it shut. To me she adds, “President Benoit wants to leave a legacy on campus. She’s breaking ground on the Doctor Coralie Benoit Library in the spring, and it won’t be as fancy as she wants it to be without extra funding.”

I wrinkle my nose. “Ego, much?”

Catherine shrugs. “I mean, it’s normal for the president to pick a project for the school and name it after themselves once it’s completed. But the scale of this project is pretty intense. I, for one, would have been happier with a smaller library and no kissing up to dangerous men for cash.”

“Beck’s dad owns half of Boston,” Alexander explains as he pulls Catherine in for a hug. “See you in the morning, sis. Save me one of the good pastries if you get to the dining hall first.”

Catherine laughs. “You savemea pastry. I’m the one who performed major surgery and will need to sleep in a few extra minutes tomorrow to recover.”

Alexander shoots me a grin as he moves toward the fire escape on the other side of the roof. “See how she is? Always exaggerating and making me do the grunt work.”

I smile. “I think she’s right.” I lift my arm, where the cut has already healed enough that I don’t think I’ll need that Band-Aid, after all. “I’ve clearly been through something major.”

He rolls his eyes. “Clearly. Later, ladies.”

He disappears and Catherine settles back into the chair across from mine, setting the locket on the table between us. “How do you feel?”

“Still warm,” I say, lifting my hair off my neck. “But otherwise, fine. Not any different really, except…”

I trail off as a tingling sensation shivers beneath my skin. My stomach tugs and my shoulders inch toward my ears. It’s like the prickling sensation I get when I sense I’m being watched, but…different.

“Except?” Catherine prompts after a moment.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. It’s kind of like déjà vu but also like that nagging feeling you get when you know you’re forgetting something, but can’t remember what it is?”

She cocks her head. “Huh. I mean, I know what you’re talking about, but I’ve never experienced anything like that related to shifting. My shifter form feels like a dance. Something I can swing into any time, but that I’m not really aware of unless I’m ready to hedgehog.” She smiles. “But a flaming magical bird form might be different.”

“Yeah,” I say, forcing a smile even as the back of my throat starts to feel swollen and tight. “I wish there were more phoenix shifters around. It would be nice to get some first-hand advice.”

“Let me look in the library tomorrow while you’re in class,” Catherine says. “I might be able to find something in the student diaries section. In all this time, surely Lost Moon has had a phoenix student at some point. And maybe they wrote about their experience for generations to come.”

“I guessIshould do that. Journal,” I say, the itchy feeling now so intense that I feel compelled to do something about it.

I rise, following the tug in my gut over to the fire escape. With every step I take, the unsettled feeling subsides, replaced by more heat rising from my skin and a different kind of tingling.

The kind that I currently associate with just one person…

I’m not really surprised when I glance over the edge of the roof to see Ford climbing the ladder leading up the side of the building.

Not surprised, but absolutely disturbed.

The closer he gets, the more intense the honeyed, “there it is, the thing I thought I lost,” feeling becomes. By the time he swings over the ledge and onto the roof, I feel like I’m floating in warm, happy vibes.

Happy, and horny…

Even when he murmurs in a worried voice, “I was hoping you’d still be up. I have some bad news you should both hear as soon as possible,” all I want to do is throw myself at him and make out with his sexy face.

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