by River Ramsey
“You will be. That’s how it works.”
How she envied his certainty. “Your mother has been so gracious,” she said, deciding to change the subject.
“She’s already fond of you,” Bishop said, glancing down at her. “She has been wondering why you turned down her offer.”
“It’s not that I didn’t want to,” Ella insisted. “It’s just that the Hills have done so much for me. Especially Emily. I couldn’t go against her wishes.”
His expression soured as soon as the family’s name came out of her mouth. “The Hills treat you like a damn chambermaid,” he said gruffly. “You don’t owe them anything.”
“That’s not true,” she protested. “If Mrs. Hill hadn’t found me, I probably would have ended up dead on the side of the road.”
“Or with people who actually cared for you,” he countered.
She knew his words weren’t meant to be cruel, but they cut deep and left her speechless all the same.
“I’m sorry,” Bishop said, stopping at the bottom of the hill. “I didn’t mean for that to come out the way it did. I just know how they are. Our families go way back.”
“It’s fine,” she said, hugging herself. She still felt exposed, despite being fully clothed. “I know it probably doesn’t make sense to you, but they’re the closest thing to family I have.”
“You deserve so much more than that,” he said, his voice laced with frustration. He finally gave a resigned sigh. “But I’ve overstepped my bounds enough for one night.”
“You’ve been very kind,” she assured him, smiling mischievously. “Other than nearly giving me a heart attack.”
He chuckled. “Let me make it up to you. Have dinner with me Friday night?”
The offer took her by surprise, despite the intimate moment they’d just shared. That was easy enough to brush off in the wake of adrenaline and animal instinct, but asking for a date was far more intentional. “Are we allowed to leave campus?”
“Exceptions are often made for royalty,” he said with a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “You’ll figure that out soon enough.”
Chapter 11
Ella
While Ella poured herself into bed in plenty of time to get a full night’s rest, her restless mind had other ideas.
Maybe shifting hadn’t been a good idea, after all.
She still couldn’t get that kiss out of her head. She was sure she’d regret it eventually, if only because Bishop inevitably would, but she couldn’t bring herself to. Not yet.
At least an angry roommate was one problem she didn’t have to contend with. The room seemed to be made for two people, but whether the administration had taken mercy on her or her would-be roommate had simply asked for a transfer, she had it all to herself.
By the time she finally fell asleep, it seemed like an instant before her alarm went off. She would have loved to get up a bit closer to the time Mr. Bryant had asked her to meet him, but given the fact that the girls’ dorm only had communal showers, she thought it safer to get an early start.
To her relief, the shower was as much of a ghost town as the hallways were. Once she was finished, she returned to her room and put on a clean uniform, taking a bit of extra time with her hair. It was still hard not to get startled whenever she looked in the mirror, but at least the markings were only visible under direct moonlight. She was tempted to dye her hair black again, just so she wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb everywhere she went.
The classroom hallways were equally quiet and every step seemed to echo endlessly. She wasn’t quite used to the layout yet, but the building seemed less vast and foreboding than it had yesterday.
The classroom door was closed when Ella arrived, so she hesitated a moment before knocking. There was no reply, so she knocked a bit harder and the door flew open so suddenly she gasped.
“You’re on time,” Mr. Bryant remarked, stepping back to allow her inside. “Come in.”
Ella followed him into the classroom, trying not to let her nerves get the best of her. He looked even more dangerous than he had that first day, if possible. He was wearing the same uniform, but his long hair was no longer bound and tamed. Instead, it spilled like ink over his shoulders, making his alabaster skin look even more ethereal in comparison.
Ella had never seen such a beautiful man in her life. Or anyone, for that matter. The only thing about his features that wasn’t flawless was the slightly crooked ridge of his nose, as if it had been broken once and never fully healed, but the unique feature simply made his face all the more appealing.
“Thank you for doing this,” she said, looking around the room to find it in quite a different permutation from the last class. Several of the tables had been moved over to clear an empty space.
“It is my duty to ensure that you possess the requisite knowledge to claim your title when the time comes,” he answered, walking across the room to some object stationed on the desk. Upon closer inspection, Ella realized it was a record player. She watched in fascination as he set the needle down and the record began to spin, playing a lackadaisical melody she felt sure she’d heard before.
“What are we doing?” she asked as the professor walked back over to her.
“Every queen must know how to dance,” he answered, holding out his right hand. The gallant gesture seemed like something out of a movie, but as reticent as she was to take it and reveal just how uncultured she truly was, he was far too intimidating to refuse without a good reason.
The moment Ella’s hand slipped into his, he pulled her close so fast her head spun, and slipped his other arm around her waist, pulling them close together the way Bishop had done so recently.
The fresh memory of intimacy and arousal was the last thing she needed right now, especially when she could scarcely look at the teacher’s face without thinking thoughts that would have her at once expelled from the Academy and civilized society.
His scent was absolutely intoxicating. Exotic and loamy, understated yet powerful enough to have her senses in a tailspin. There was no way it was just the effect of designer cologne, either. All toms had a unique scent, which became even more alluring to females nearing a heat. The fact that she was so responsive to his scent and his touch filled her with a new kind of dread.
What if she went into heat at that very moment? As he swept her across the makeshift dance floor, she realized she’d be utterly powerless to stop it. A lifetime of waiting and of course it would be now that her body chose to betray her.
Then again, her encounter in the woods with Bishop had probably set things off if that was the case.
“Is something wrong?” Mr. Bryant asked, gazing down at her with a hint of concern in his stony expression.
“N-no,” she answered. It wasn’t a complete lie. It was incredibly difficult to feel that anything was amiss when she was locked in the safety of his embrace. He moved so swiftly and gracefully that it scarcely mattered she had no idea what she was doing. Under his guidance, her body seemed to know the steps much better than her conscious mind did, as if it was all just the rhythm of a song she had heard a thousand times before.
“You’re doing well,” he said, assuming that was the reason for her nervousness. “Have you really never danced before?”
“The opportunity never presented itself,” she confessed.
He frowned intently, though he never once lost his concentration. “The Unveiling was the first time I’ve seen you at a colony event. Why?”
It was a simple question, but it flustered her all the same. So did the idea that he had seen her without her realizing it.
What was she thinking? Of course he had. The whole colony had been there, and she’d been the talk of the evening, despite her wishes.
“I’m a stray,” she finally answered. That was the simplest answer to most questions posed of her.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
His question took her by surprise. Everything about him was unpredictable. “I
don’t belong. You’ve seen for yourself how unequipped I am for all this,” she said, nodding at their surroundings.
“You lack training and refinement, but those are vastly different from being unfit,” he corrected. His tone left no room for question, and the most remarkable part was that he didn’t seem entirely aware of just how commanding his very presence was.
Or intoxicating.
The heat that had pooled in her core from the moment Bishop had kissed her had become a burning ember and the more they danced, the further down her back his hand slipped, the more in danger it was of being stoked into a burning flame.
“Maybe.” There didn’t seem a point in arguing. He’d already made his opinions on strays clear, and while he didn’t seem like the type to say one thing and think another, she hadn’t forgotten his comment in class.
She could feel his eyes on her, looking sharply, even though she was making every attempt to look elsewhere. “What I said yesterday in class,” he began, his tone softening more than it ever had.
Ella looked up in surprise that he was even addressing it. “It’s fine,” she said quickly. “You’re right. I’m even more out of place here than I am in the colony.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said firmly. He sighed the next moment, a whisper of defeat. “But it was still a careless thing to say. I apologize.”
Ella stared at him in disbelief. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to apologize either, not because he lacked humility but rather because she had a hard time believing he ever made a mistake.
“There’s no need,” she insisted. She realized she could feel his heart beating beneath her palm, since he was too tall for her hand to properly rest on his shoulder while dancing. Such a strong, steady rhythm, timed perfectly to that familiar melody. “It’s much kinder than the way most people feel.”
“This institution is as rife with prejudice as any other,” he murmured. “I expect more will be routed out before your coronation.”
“I’m not so sure it’s as inevitable as everything thinks.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“You were at the ceremony. You saw what happened,” she answered. “The moon may have marked me, but she also tried to drown me.”
“It was certainly one for the record books,” he mused.
“I take it Natalia’s ceremony was far more typical.”
He chuckled. It was a surprisingly pleasant sound. Lower than she’d expected, but softer. “Be that as it may, I wouldn’t take a deviation from the norm as an omen of your reign.”
“You have to admit, it wasn’t a very promising start.”
He gave her a knowing smile that made her heart flutter in yet another way. “It just takes time. Time and instruction.” He spun her swiftly, and before she had time to lose her footing, he pulled her back to his chest, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist. All the breath rushed from her lungs, and time itself stood still.
For a brief eternity, Ella was locked in his gaze and had no wish to ever escape. Her first thought, other than the fact that he was breathtakingly beautiful, was that he was shockingly cold to the touch.
No… That wasn’t it.
She was burning hot. Her skin was flushed, and she finally realized it was due to more than mere infatuation.
Ella froze, the imaginary melody she’d been keeping time to in her head coming to a screeching halt. Her heart was pounding in her ears, which made her feel even dizzier.
His eyes were locked on hers, piercing and inescapable. He knew. In that moment, there was no doubting it. Humiliation washed over her, but there was something about the way he was looking at her that gave her pause. A glimmer of something, something dangerous and sharp as a knife, threatening to cut deep into her soul.
Lust.
She’d seen it before, in Bishop’s gaze before he’d pushed her up against the tree. She recognized it, if only as the reflection of the flame burning in her core.
Her hands were still on his chest, she realized. His had both drifted to her hips, and wherever his fingers made contact, her flesh burned with desire so intensely that she was sure there would be marks left on her skin when he pulled away.
For a moment, fear edged into that desire. She was alone with a strange tom in a confined space, and no one else knew she was there. It would be so easy for him to take advantage of the situation under normal circumstances, to say nothing of someone in her position.
A queen in heat could be taken. Marked. The bond was not one meant to be forced, but that hadn’t stopped unscrupulous toms from committing such treachery in the past.
Of course, that was all based on the premise that she could overcome her insatiable hunger for the man in front of her. From the lithe muscle rippling beneath his shirt to his silvery eyes, he was the epitome of perfection, the perfect blend of masculine beauty and sophistication. Ever since they’d started dancing, shameful fantasies had been flitting through her head.
She should have known. She should have seen it coming, and yet, how could she have? After all this time, now of all occasions…
“You’re in heat.” His voice was gentle but stiff, as if he was trying to measure his own tone. She felt a wall go up between them as he took a step back and her humiliation only grew.
Ella brought a hand to her lips, taking a stumbling step back. She’d come so close to kissing him. What the hell was wrong with her? She knew heats could be overpowering, but she felt like another version of herself, on autopilot and nearly senseless.
“I’m sorry.” It was the only thing she had the presence of mind to choke out, but the confusion on his face made the absurdity of the answer plain to her.
“There’s nothing to apologize for, I just…” He trailed off, seeming to be at a loss for what Ella was quite certain must have been the first time in his life. “Don’t you have the implant?”
“Implant?” she asked, at the risk of him thinking she was even more foolish.
His frown deepened. “The exam. I assume you had it sometime last year.”
Ella’s mind was racing. She knew she had to be missing something, and was going to kick herself once she realized how obvious it was. No matter how she tried, she just couldn’t figure out what he was talking about.
The last time she’d been to a doctor, it was because she had sprained her ankle badly after slipping on the icy driveway carrying groceries in from the car. Emily had insisted she was fine and could just walk it off, but the next day, when Ella’s ankle was still bruised and swollen, she had finally decided to consult a doctor.
She hadn’t had the time for a trip into town back then, but the pride doctor frequently made house calls. He’d mentioned nothing of an exam, other than asking Ella if she had already gone into heat. When she’d answered no, that was that.
“I’m sorry, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Whenever a queen reaches maturity, it’s common practice for her to receive an implant to prevent her from going into heat before she’s mated.” His voice was free of the condescension she had expected, but it was humiliating nonetheless.
All this time, how could she not have known? Granted, Emily was the only female figure in her life who might’ve told her about such things. Beatrice was human, and knew only as much about shifters as she was paid to.
“Oh,” she said, feeling her cheeks inflame once more. “I wasn’t aware. No, I.… I haven’t had anything like that.”
“I see,” he murmured. He was so hard to read. Surely, he must think her an idiot, but at least his calm demeanor was settling her nerves. She felt safe with him somehow. Perhaps against her better judgment. “We should get you to the clinic. This is really a matter for the doctor to handle.”
Ella wasn’t at all sure how she felt about something so personal and humiliating being a matter for any member of the school staff to handle, but she was too overwhelmed to argue. She followed him down the hall, freezing when they walked past a small grou
p of toms coming in from the sports field.
She saw the first hulking male who rivaled Axel in his muscular build sniff the air before his gaze landed on her. His eyes went from normal to gleaming in an instant, and there was no mistaking the predatory intent in them.
Ella’s throat tightened and she took a step back as Mr. Bryant stepped in front of her, his right arm outstretched protectively. Her heart was racing, and she was torn between the drive to flee and the knowledge that it would only make her pursuers more ravenous. There was nothing that intrigued a feline shifter more than quick, flighty prey. She knew that well.
“Gentlemen, I suggest you continue on your way to class,” Mr. Bryant said in a growl she’d never heard before.
The three males looked at each other, their gazes now equally hungry. They all turned back to Ella, and she could see their muscles tense, as if they were ready to spring.
Now she was starting to understand why the school took this matter so seriously. How could Emily not have warned her?
“That wasn’t a suggestion,” Mr. Bryant said, his tone even more frigid. All it took was him taking a single step toward the others for them to scatter.
Ella watched in fascination as the males took off down the other end of the hall. Mr. Bryant was strong, certainly, but he was not the most physically imposing cat in the Academy. His energy, however…
At least now she knew she wasn’t the only one he had that effect on.
His hand wrapping around her wrist made her gasp, bringing her out of her thoughts. His grasp was gentle, but he was leading her with a sense of urgency she thought it unwise to ignore. “Come,” he said, ushering her into a room at the end of the hall.
Ella has seen the clinic from a distance, but she had yet to actually visit it. It was a neat and tidy space, smelling vaguely of antiseptic. There were cots all along one wall, separated by privacy curtains, and a small waiting room on the right side of the door. A secretary’s desk separated the two sections, and from where she was standing, Ella could see a private room in the back.