by Tamara White
Chapter Thirteen
Isobel
I throw myself down on my bed, exhausted from the night’s events. Jesse and Marcus walked me up to my room, neither of us saying much more.
Both men waited for me to step into my room before they turned back to the one I assumed they shared. Why they are on campus when it’s clear they aren’t newly turned though, is beyond me.
The paperclip was still firmly fixed in place when I entered my room, which reassured me that no one had tried to break in. Even though I doubt anyone here would have cause to, it pays to be safe. Something I learned is that scent isn’t exactly foolproof. Witches have the ability to provide a potion that will basically render its drinker scentless. So I could walk in here and find nothing out of the ordinary but an infiltrator could be hiding with me being none the wiser.
It’s why I have secondary measures in place. I should speak to someone in the administration about the possibility of having a deadlock installed though. The simple lock they have in place can be opened from the outside without much effort. A bullet to the key card slot and bam, door open.
Rather than let myself go straight to sleep despite my exhaustion, I do the responsible thing. I get up and strip out of my clothes until I’m in nothing but a pair of panties. I pull on my sleep shirt, cursing myself for still being attached to something of Drake’s—but it’s not only him I’m attached to—before crawling into bed. This shirt was the very one I was wearing when I ran from the council compound. It was the only thing on me when a human found me passed out in the street and took me to the hospital. The only reason he did so was because he thought I’d been raped, but what had happened was so much worse. I was pregnant, unbeknownst to me. I had no flipping clue, which made that night so much worse.
A supe in the hospital knew I was one of them and ran some tests for me, figuring out what had happened. When he asked me who he could call to come take care of me, there was no one in this world I could trust. So I left. But being a fertile female after the loss of a baby, the supe had no choice but to call someone. It’s the way supe society works. I was just lucky it was Jordan who answered the call and not one of the other enforcers or even a council member, because things may not have gone down the way they did.
Jordan took me to a nice hotel, set me up, and let me grieve, even when it felt stupid to do so. The whole time I kept thinking about how I never even knew my child existed until it was gone, so why did it hurt so much? Jordan stayed with me for only two nights, unable to remain longer or he would risk the council hunting him down too. Still, I’m glad he was there for me at that moment of weakness. We had no clue whose baby it was, but since Jordan was so ancient, it was more likely the baby was Drake’s. Apparently with age, the ability to conceive a supernatural child diminishes greatly. Not that it made a difference to me who donated the sperm, just that I had lost a piece of my heart with my baby.
While I was still coming to terms with my loss, I wore the same shirt every day, wishing Drake would have actually given a shit about me. I spent a lot of that time blaming him for everything he had done to lead me to that point. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a suck up to the council, things would have turned out differently for us.
But when you walk in on your fiancé screwing another woman, well, it really doesn’t give a person a reason to stay. It did, however, give me a reason to hurt him, but there was no way in hell I was going to stick around and watch him play with another woman as if I meant nothing to him.
My eyes glisten with tears as the pain in my heart suffocates me. I hate that it still affects me like this. I should hate him, and I do in part, but he was one of the first ones to show me compassion. To love the monster I am.
He and Jordan were only meant to be my guards, my trainers in the compound. But after a week of them helping me gain control, they broke council protocol and took me out of the headquarters. They drove me back home to the cemetery I used to walk past when I would go to school. When we stopped there, I was confused as hell, but both men led me out, Drake bringing three bunches of flowers. It was then I realized where he was taking me.
He took us to the back where four identical headstones rested. One for my father, my mother, my brother, and surprisingly, one for me.
He laid the flowers down at my mother’s and father’s headstones before handing me the third. He and Jordan then left me to crouch down at Jarrod’s grave. I was able to grieve them all the way they deserved. To apologize for not saving them.
It was then I knew I could trust Jordan and Drake. That they genuinely cared. I just wish I knew what it was that made Drake change. To betray me like he did. Why would he cheat on me? Destroy me like that?
I close my eyes with a sad sigh, wiping the stray tear that falls down my cheek. I drift off to sleep with thoughts of how I’ll make Drake suffer for the pain he’s caused me, intentionally and unintentionally. But his suffering will be nothing compared to what I do to the council.
No, the council will be ripped apart at the core and burnt to the ground. And I’ll love every moment of the destruction.
Chapter Fourteen
Isobel
My alarm goes off and I groan in annoyance. I would sleep for days if I could. But as long as I get my minimum of five hours, I can function through a day of meaningless tasks. I did it in college, so why should this be any different?
I have an hour before my first class of the day, so I get up, not bothering to put on pants as I grab my shower caddy filled with the expensive shit I can’t live without. I think some of the products I use cost more than it does to make some of my bullets.
You would think after being turned into a supernatural being, I wouldn’t still have skin sensitivity to certain products, but I do. It’s mainly scented things that cause my skin to break out, but thanks to my new abilities, I heal quicker, but it’s still irritating as hell being covered in a red hive-like rash. So I had to source products that weren’t scented and kind on my skin otherwise I’d be just bathing in water and to be honest, that is just disgusting. I need to feel clean to function.
I would have showered last night when I came in, but after feeding only a little, I knew I needed to sleep or I would have been useless today.
Hopefully, it will wake me up a little though and give me a chance to go in search of the cafeteria. I need coffee and I need it before I have to concentrate in the classes.
My first class is supernatural basics, which judging from the title, I think it’s a general overview on what type of supernatural you are and what you can do.
I pause on the way from leaving my room only to stop and grab some fresh clothes. I clutch a pair of jeans and a shirt, along with my only other clean bra and panties. I’m light on clothes, but heavy on weapons. Which is the way it should be. I really should do some shopping, but I hate spending my money unless I have to.
Even though the council provided me with everything I could ever need, saying it was the legacy of the Supreme Alpha before me, I wanted my own things. I didn’t want stuff the council had bought.
When I hacked into my parents’ bank accounts and saw their money was still just sitting there, even after six months of them being gone, I knew they would want me to have it. The files in their will stipulated in the case of their death all their possessions went to Jarrod or me. They had no one else listed, so it just sat there untouched. So I did what they would want and donated it all to a charity that helped people deal with the loss of their families.
I grab my towel and step out of my room with my clothes bundled in my arms. I don’t bother putting the paperclip in the door, there’s no reason, and start making my way to the shared bathroom. I’m almost past Marcus’s door when it opens and the man himself steps out, causing me to almost collide into him.
“Sorry, Marcus,” I mutter, moving around him. I can tell it’s Marcus simply because he has the same shade of moss green eyes I remember from yesterday, whereas Jesse’s are the sharp color of a jade gemstone.
Even though they look so similar, that’s one trait that separates them clearly.
“Hey, you okay?” he asks, joining me as I walk to the bathroom. I ignore him, focused on getting showered, not idle chitchat. He’ll leave me alone when I step into the bathroom, I’m sure.
Rather than go in a different direction, he strolls in with me, and that’s when I notice he’s carrying his own supplies.
“I’m fine,” I mumble, a yawn taking over me. “I’m just a little tired. I stayed out later than I expected. Need a shower then coffee. Maybe a gallon of the stuff will wake me up.”
He chuckles softly. “You’re as bad as Jesse. He’s also very unintelligible until he’s had his first coffee. You’re gonna need it more than him though. I’ve heard the class instructors are hard asses.”
I grumble, annoyed, but stop short at the sight of the bathroom. I was expecting a prison-like setup with open showers that forced everyone to remain clothed if they were shy about their body, but I’m glad to see it’s not like that at all. Instead, it reminds me of my old school swim lockers. There are five stalls along each of the three walls, and inside each stall is a small tiled section, and another part that has a bench seat screwed into the stall wall. Most likely it’s for you to put your belongings on.
In the middle of the room is a large vanity that has a mirror on either side. I sigh, hating the idea of my scars being on view for others to see. I’m glad I can get changed in the stall rather than out in the public eye of other supes.
My face scars are unable to be concealed unless I use a heavy layer of makeup and I hate doing that. I’ve come to accept them as a part of me now, but the rest of the scars that cover my body are not exactly appealing. The two humans I’ve attempted to sleep with since leaving the compound balked when they saw them and got the hell out of there. It just went to show there are some things that despite the general consensus, will stop a man from having sex.
Marcus walks into a stall near the door, and I opt for one at the other end of the room, wanting a little privacy from him.
I step into the stall and set my clothes on the little seat before turning the shower on. I wait for the water to heat up and then I strip down. I run my hands over the scars on my ribs, tracing the claw marks the old Alpha left behind.
A cough behind me startles me enough that I freeze. I have no weapon to defend myself. I left myself completely open because of old memories.
When no one attacks me, I turn and meet a pair of golden eyes in surprise. I didn’t even close the fucking stall door.
Jesse is watching me with a mix of longing, sorrow, and lust in his eyes. Who knows how long he’s been standing there? I didn’t even feel a shift in energy, which means he had more of my blood than I expected, and that also explains the still gilded color of his irises. Damn it, not feeling the difference for a few days is going to be annoying. It means the bastard could well and truly sneak up on me with me being none the wiser.
My heart is in my throat knowing Jesse has seen the full extent of my scars. I don’t let shame hold me back, instead fixing him with a glare that could melt ice.
“You got a problem?”
His eyes run up and down my body, arousal clear in his expression and a very obvious tent in his boxers.
In my sleepy haze, I didn’t even realize he was shirtless and only wearing boxers. Shows how completely out of it I am. I’m still cursing the fact I had no weapon hidden in my clothes. That right there is a big no-no.
Rather than say anything, he comes into the stall, sets his own stuff on the little bench, and closes and locks the door.
“You know, if you want to share a stall, your brother’s is over by the door,” I snark, as he pulls off his boxers. My eyes watch the move with arousal pulsing through me. It’s just the blood connection, I remind myself.
His eyes are filled with amusement as he slowly lowers his boxers to the ground and then sets them to the side on the bench. I can see the pulse in his throat pumping fast enough to tell me he’s just as turned on as I am. I really should kick him out. Shouldn’t I?
“I see him naked all the damn time. When do I get the luxury of seeing a hot as hell woman naked?”
I scoff, internally loving his compliment. Not that I’d say it out loud, but it feels amazing to be desired by another.
Once he’s done admiring my body, he comes closer, his eyes lingering over the scars on my body. His hand reaches out, waiting for permission before touching me. His eyes stare into mine and my heart beats a mile a minute as I nod, knowing this is so bad but I want to be touched. To be admired by a man who sees all of me. He smiles softly, cupping my waist with his hand, his thumb grazing delicately over the jagged lines. “Who did this?”
My eyes close at his tender touch, and I fight not to shiver with desire. “It’s not important,” I whisper, unable to keep the tremble from my voice.
“It’s important because I want to rip the fucker who could do such a thing into a million tiny pieces,” he growls. My eyes snap open to see a possessive and dangerous tiger in front of me. He looks very much on the urge of shifting he’s that enraged.
But it’s the concern in his eyes that has my heart melting. He genuinely cares about what happened to me. Two people in my life have shown such care when it comes to my wellbeing and while I know that more than likely the possessive edge is from my blood in his veins, I can sense the intentions of the man underneath are just the same which makes everything different for me.
“It’s fine. The person responsible is dead. I killed him while he was trying to kill me.”
“I’m glad then.” He stares at me for a moment, his hand running over the scars. “I should go,” he whispers, his eyes roaming over my naked body hungrily. “I don’t want to be too forward.”
I laugh softly and step out of his arms and into the spray of the water. “Too forward? You stripped in front of me, have seen every inch of me naked, but now you’re being too forward? I think you really need to look up what exactly that means.”
“So I should stay?” His eyebrows rise in surprise and I simply grin, leaving the decision to him. Just because we’re both naked in an enclosed space doesn’t mean anything has to come of it. He’s a shifter. He should know this. Nudity is very open among supernaturals, which I guess is why the bathroom is shared gender. The people who built this place would have planned it like this.
I half expect Jesse to leave, but he doesn’t, stepping into the small part of the shower where the water hits.
“You know we thought you were lying about being bitten two years ago but you really aren’t a newly turned, are you?” he inquires, as he watches me run my fingers through my hair, ensuring the water washes out any remnants of blood from the night before.
“What gave you that idea?” I tease, unable to resist.
“Well, there’s the fact you’re apparently our Supreme Alpha and you knew how to save me, which means you’ve saved another at least once before.
“Then there’s the fact you don’t seem to care about being naked in front of me. Most newly turned supes tend to have trouble in the beginning, which is why we have co-ed showers, to help them become accustomed to the changes this new life brings. So tell me, why is our Supreme Alpha hiding in a school for turned supes, Isobel?”
Throwing my secrets out the windows seems to be a bad idea, but there is something about Jesse that calls to me, beside the blood connection. The part of him that is human is made up of kindness and compassion, I can sense that much. So, I decide I can give him a little bit of information.
“Because I have things to learn and the council wasn’t exactly forthcoming.” I hear the outer door open before another shower in another stall turns on close by, so I simply smile at Jesse. “I guess that will have to be a story for another day.”
He grimaces but doesn’t press. I guess he understands that I won’t say more while there is the possibility of another hearing us. It’s not that it’s a big secret, I just don’t w
ant everyone knowing the particulars of my turning. It’s not a happy story filled with adventure and love. It’s a tragic ending to the lives of those closest to me.
When I reach for my shampoo, he grips my wrist and pries the bottle from me, turning me so I face the shower wall. I listen as he lathers my shampoo in his hands and begins to work it through my hair, thoroughly washing the blood, dirt, and sweat from my once glossy locks. From hunting and repeatedly washing it with cheap products, it seems to have lost its life. I would love to go back to the products I once used, but it’s an expense I don’t need. Especially when I already spend so much on body wash and lotions.
I sigh as Jesse continues to lather my hair before gently washing the shampoo out. He then moves on to conditioning it, running his hands through to get the knots out. When he’s finished, I turn to face him, feeling a mix of conflicting emotions.
I’m extremely aroused but also hesitant. He’s probably feeling the draw toward me from my blood alone. It doesn’t feel right to allow anything sexual to happen because it would be like taking advantage of a drunk dude.
“What are you thinking?” he asks me, his hand gripping my hip and pulling me flush against his body under the water.
“Just that I should leave before I do something I regret.”
“Hmmm, are you sure you’d regret it?” he murmurs, dipping his head to nibble my earlobe. He places a soft kiss on the edge of my jaw, his tongue licking my skin and creating a fine tremble in my body. Desire is racing through me and my heart is beating rapidly.
“Jesse, we should stop. I don’t want to take advantage of you,” I argue breathlessly, unable to hold back the desire coursing through my body. My pussy is throbbing with the need to be touched, but I squeeze my legs together to fight off the arousal. I won’t give in to base urges.
“You can’t take advantage of the willing. Let me touch you,” he croons softly, as his hand slowly slides down my side. His other hand reaches up to cradle my neck firmly. He holds me in place as his touch moves between my legs.