by J Bree
“Oh God, what happened in there?” Sage moans, looking just a little bit tipsy, and I immediately want a drink too.
“I’ll give you a complete play-by-play of me almost knocking Giovanna’s head off if you find me a drink. I need to forget what that bitch’s voice sounds like. Sage, you’re a freaking saint. How you put up with her without lighting her ass on fire, I’ll never know.”
Sawyer snorts at me before swooping down to kiss Sage on the cheek and getting up. “I’ll grab you both drinks… try not to start a riot while I’m gone.”
I nod at him with a tight smile, the wince still stinging a little, but then I launch into a completely true and not at all exaggerated version of what went down with that tanned skank of a woman.
We’re both dying of laughter by the time Sawyer and Felix find us there, enough bottles of beer between them to drown a hippo. I pull a face because beer is not my favorite, but Felix grins and shrugs at me. “Maria caught us grabbing the good shit, so we had to compromise.”
I shrug back and take one of the bottles from him. “It’s fine, I just need the alcohol to forget how pissed off I am, really.”
Sage scrunches up her nose but takes a bottle as well, introducing Felix and I properly, even though I’m sure we both already know too much about each other. It’s awkward for a second, with Sage trying to scoot in closer to me to make room and Felix’s eyes following her with a hunger that he’s not even attempting to tamp down, but then I start the Giovanna story all over again, with a few more embellishments and commentaries, and the air clears around us all and there isn’t another awkward silence between us.
It’s a good night, one I was never expecting.
As I look over at the group of gossips, Gabe once again accepted into the fold, I make a point of leaning into Sawyer to hear his story and the look of pure rage Gabe sends me feels like a victory.
Chapter Eleven
It takes three weeks to get our marks back for the assignments, but the second I walk through the doors and into the lecture hall, my bond tells me something is really freaking wrong with this situation.
I might hate having that weird, almost-sentient calling in my chest but it’s also never wrong. I lived in LA for a summer a few years back and it saved me from a drink-spiking incident, as well as a car mugger. Since arriving at Draven University, kicking and screaming, it’s gotten even sharper, like even just being so close to my Bonds has made the calling as sharp and accurate as the scope on a sniper rifle.
When my footsteps slow, Sage shoots me a look and falls into step with me, which I’m expecting, but when Gabe does the same thing, a frown etched onto his handsome face, I start to get worried.
Is there a bomb in the room?
A shooter?
What the hell has all of my hackles rising like this?
Everyone files into the room like there’s nothing wrong, taking seats and chatting away to each other, and I start to sweat because how do they not feel this panic like a fist in their chests like I do?
Am I losing my fucking mind?!
Nox steps into the room by himself for the first time in months, and it only takes one look at his face to tell me that the ominous feeling in the room that only Gabe and I can feel is of entirely Draven creation.
For fuck’s sake.
I slump back in my seat a little now that I’m not looking around for a freaking terrorist, and Sage gently bumps my shoulder with hers with a sad smile, solidarity in the face of my Bond’s bullshit because if anyone in this room can understand it, it’s her.
The moment he starts talking, all eyes hit Nox and the talking and gossiping immediately dies down. He doesn’t call for attention, his mere presence demands it and, like a pack hierarchy, every student falls into line obediently. There’s a respect here that he has cultivated that once again makes me curious about what he can do, what the real danger he poses to us all is, because there has to be more than just a respect for a professor here.
I’m too busy thinking about potential powers to notice Gabe leaning into me until his breath hits the curve of my ear, dancing down my neck and sparking a flurry of goosebumps that I don’t want him noticing.
“Whatever it is, reacting will only make it worse. You don’t deserve the heads up but I’ll give it to you anyway.”
I keep my eyes on Nox as I give him a curt nod. I can keep my cool here, I’ve faced worse than hazing bullshit from some asshole guy. I can’t think about the stuff that I’ve faced here, right now, with my mental barriers ripped to shreds thanks to whatever bad juju Nox has put out into the world and my Bond has picked up on. I feel too… raw.
The class drags on forever.
It’s all history that I know about, thanks to my study sessions with Sage. The long-running feud with the Resistance isn’t something I take lightly, I can’t afford to, but there’s only so many times I can hear about the abductions and indoctrinations of Bonds and Bonded without feeling like it’s a new and very specific form of torture.
The theories about which family truly started the Resistance is interesting. No one has ever actually taken responsibility for the group, though it’s been rumored that one of the older, more prestigious families started it. The Draven’s are one of eight Gifted families that run the councils on the west coast and I take some notes about the potential there.
I’ve seen some of the inner circle of the Resistance.
I could pick people out, their faces have been burned into my brain and there’s no way I’d miss them in a line up. It’s a long shot but, fuck, what else can I do around here until I figure out how to get my chip out?
When Nox finally calls the class to an end, he announces the assignments have been marked and he hands off stacks of papers to his TA’s to hand out. Students start streaming out of the room as they’re handed their work back, eager to get to their next classes. Gabe hangs back, his eyes cutting between Nox and I. I ignore him, shoving my crap back into my bag and mumbling with Sage about the Econ class we have next while we wait for our marks back.
When the TA finally gets to our row and hands me my paper with a giggle, I take it from her with numb fingers because there’s no missing the grade I’ve been given.
A giant, red, circled F.
“What the fuck is this?” The words fall out of me, Gabe’s warning thrown to the wayside, because there’s no fucking way this paper got that mark. I glance over to Sage and, yup, sure enough, she has a respectable A- on hers. We’d studied together, made our notes together, read each other’s work… there’s no way that she got an A- and I’ve failed.
“It’s your worthless excuse of a paper, Fallows. If you don’t want to flunk out, you should work a little harder.” Nox’s voice carries across the room clearly, broadcasting exactly what he’s done to me, except no one here will believe that he’s lying out of his ass.
Everyone in the room stops and stares. My cheeks heat at the attention, he loves nothing more than some public humiliation, but I lift my chin. “You can’t do this. You can’t give me shit grades just because you hate me.”
A slow smirk stretches over his face even as his eyes shutter and darken unnaturally. Whatever his gift is, it wants out to play. “Such arrogance from a gift-less high school dropout.”
My temper catches faster than a forest fire in the heat of summer. “You’re a fucking piece of shit, Draven. You’re an utter fucking asshole who can’t handle rejection with an ounce of integrity. What Bond would ever want to be saddled with a dickhead like you?”
Sage gasps and tugs at my hand but Gabe just turns on his heel and splits, abandoning me as easily as he thinks I did to them. I glance around and there’s phones out everywhere, girls openly filming this shit go down.
Nox flicks a dismissive hand at me. “Follow me to the dean’s office, Fallows.”
I refuse to acknowledge it or feel bad about my reaction but I sit in front of the dean’s office with hot tears coursing down my cheeks. I’m not scared or upset, they�
�re completely triggered by the impotent rage filling me up.
Impotent because there’s nothing I can do about this except use my goddamn, useless words and pray that it’s enough to get my paper looked at again, but I’m also keenly aware that this is Draven University. Like there’s any real chance that the dean will side with me over the freaking namesake of the institute.
When a group of giggling students walk in to sort out some pep rally bullshit, the dean’s assistant ushers them out before they get a good look at me, tucking a small packet of tissues into my hand as she passes me. She’s an older woman, older than my mom would be if she were still here, and it only makes the tears come harder.
I glue my eyes to the scuffs on the old trainers I’m wearing, once again thinking about those stupid shoes the TacTeam left behind when they grabbed my shit because I don’t feel like myself here. I don’t have any of my prized possessions, I don’t have any of the freedoms I enjoyed even while on the run and struggling to make money to feed myself. My entire identity was ripped away from me to come here and for what?
Bonds who would do anything to ruin me.
Maybe I should start to fight back. Maybe I should risk the little time bomb they buried in my skin and just pack a bag, get out of this place. Things couldn’t get worse, right? I’m doing everything I can to pass all of my classes, I’m showing up to TT every week and almost freaking dying every time for no reason other than to keep me within spitting distance of my Bonds at all times.
Nothing I do matters here.
“Thank you for calling, Sherry. I’ll get this sorted out so you don’t have to look at my weeping Bond any longer.”
I freeze, of course things can and have gotten worse, because North has just arrived, looking like a wealthy wet dream in a suit, smiling tightly at the assistant as he breezes through the office.
The assistant, Sherry, grimaces at him and shoots me a kind look. “She’s no bother at all, Mr Draven, it’s just that I think she needs some backup.”
Backup.
As if he’s going to do anything here to help me.
He murmurs something back to her, low enough that I don’t catch it, but I also don’t want to know what it was when Sherry gasps a little and says, “She’s so young, and with no parents! It’s good she has you.”
My God, I want to scratch his eyeballs out for that. Coming in here looking like my savior, some white knight here to save the day, when really he’s here to prolong the torture.
North stops in front of me and I look up to find him frowning. “Sherry said this is over a paper, do you have it with you?”
I nod and he doesn’t say another word as he turns to enter the dean’s office. I’m stupid enough to glance into the open doorway and my eyes meet Nox’s, the dark glint of satisfaction there chilling me to the bone.
He’s feeling pretty smug about this mess.
I want to die.
My phone buzzes in my pocket but I can’t pull it out here, not with North’s spies everywhere and it being the new phone that Atlas sent me. I press my hand against it through my pants, that weight of it like a comfort because Atlas is a safe place for me. He’s a Bond I can speak to without having to worry because he’s thousands of miles away, he’s someone I can have at least a little bit of honesty with because I’ll be out of this place before he ever makes it here.
He’s the tiny sliver of a silver lining.
When the door opens again, Nox walks out without a word or glance at me or Sherry and I deflate like a balloon, all of the tension that was keeping me upright just sizzling out of me until I’m slumped over in my seat.
“Miss Fallows, please join us,” the dean says, his tone a little warmer than it was when Nox dragged me here in the first place.
Sherry smiles at me as I follow him in, taking the seat Nox just vacated as I try not to vomit with nerves at the scent of him still clinging to the fabric. Why does he have to smell nice? Why does he have to ruin Aqua di Gio for me?
Asshole.
The dean takes his seat again and fusses with some papers on his desk for a moment, clearing his throat and puffing up his chest like he’s so important. The posturing is so obvious and definitely not for me, the looks he gives North are bordering on obsessive.
“Miss Fallows, this is a highly unusual situation we’ve found ourselves in and I’m taking that into consideration with my decision here. While Mr Draven is your professor and should have final say on your grades, I understand that the— delicate particulars of your Bond mean that there will be some changes required.”
The only thing around here that is delicate is Nox’s fucking ego.
I nod and keep my eyes on him, my resolve not at all strong enough to handle even a glance in North’s direction right now. The dean’s eyes do flick over to my asshole Bond as he continues, “Councilman Draven has the same qualifications as his brother and has offered to mark your assignments for the remainder of your classes with Mr Draven. Given the circumstances, I’m willing to go to the school board with this and I’m confident that they’ll agree to these terms. You will still be required to attend your classes and workshops, all of your due dates will remain the same, the only change here will be that your assignments will be sent over to the Councilman.”
I want to flip the table.
I want to unleash my gift on them both and just watch them face the wrath I have building in my veins.
I want to punch North and his gutless fucking brother in the faces.
Instead, I say, “Thank you, Dean Myers. I appreciate your leniency and efforts on this delicate issue.”
I can’t stop the sarcasm from oozing out of me but the dean doesn’t notice, he just grins at North like he’s done an outstanding job on this and we all stand as one.
I’m ready to stalk home to walk some of my rage off, then North comes out of the left field and says, “Oleander, I’ll drive you home.”
My name. He says my actual, full first name without any of the derisive, controlling bullshit he pulls with my last name and, goddammit, I shiver at the sound of my name coming out from between those pouty lips of his.
What the fuck was that?!
Okay, I need a brain bleaching the second I get back to my room because I’m definitely not going to be thinking about that domineering asshole like that, no matter what my bond thinks. Fuck. I remember where the hell I am and give the dean an appreciative nod before following North out of the office building.
He doesn’t attempt to slow down for me and once again, I find myself jogging to keep up with his stupidly long legs. I have to huff out the words, breathless and exasperated, “I know you hate me and, honestly, I’d feel the same damn way, but I worked my ass off for that paper. I have done nothing but study and stick to your bullshit rules, I have no freedom, no fucking life, and still you’re going to sit there on your high horse and tell me all about how much of a useless little brat I am? No, fuck you, North. I don’t deserve this.”
He stops when he gets to the car and holds the door open for me, ushering me in, and I’m distracted enough by the bullshit in my head that I don’t notice Gryphon until I’m already sitting down. He’s already buckled into the middle seat on the rearward facing row and I scoot along to get as far away from him and North as I can, shame curling in my gut that once again my humiliation has to be a spectator sport. His eyes roam over me with cold apathy, pausing for a second on my cheeks, and I quickly scrub a hand over them in case I’ve done something mortifying like cry in front of them.
North slides in after me, sitting in his usual seat. “Nox isn’t known for his subtlety, you’ve wronged him and he’s going to make sure everyone knows about it. You can’t blame him for assuming you’d do a terrible job, he knows you dropped out of high school on a whim, Fallows.”
I speak through my teeth, “It’s not like I had a choice, Draven.”
North glances over to Gryphon, his brow furrowed, and Gryphon shrugs back at him. “She’s telling the truth.”
I snort. “Well, thanks for your vote of confidence there, Gryphon. Why the hell are you even here? Shouldn’t you be off torturing people somewhere else, somewhere that’s nowhere near me?”
He stares me down until my skin is crawling and I desperately want to look away from him, but sheer stubborn will says I have to keep his gaze until he’s the one to break it. I’m totally winning the stare-off too and then North startles me with his grumpy, asshole tones.
“We weren’t expecting the detour here to deal with you, there are Bonds and Bonded going missing, you know.”
Like a knife slicing right through my heart, he could never know how much those words hurt me. I choke out, “I’m aware.”
A frosty silence takes over the car and I resist the urge to dig my phone out to mess around with as a shield. North will just spy on whatever it is that I do and I can’t sit here with his smug ass while this is going on. The drive over to my dorm only takes a couple of minutes and when the driver opens my door, I hesitate for a second before I open my bag, digging around for the assignment that started all of this shit.
The big fat F written in red and circled is like a beacon for us all, every eye hitting it and judging me for once again coming up as a defect.
Except this time I’m not.
I’m not going to let my own anger at this bullshit situation undo all of my hard work. I swallow around the lump in my throat and hold the papers out to North. “I appreciate you offering to mark my work for Nox. If you agree with his assessment of it, then I will accept it and apply for a make up assignment. I can… do that, right?”
North doesn’t look impressed by my words or the paper as he plucks it out of my hands. “You have no choice but to pass all of your classes. You’ll rewrite it until it’s adequate.”
I refuse to give him an answer, straightening and slamming the door shut before the driver has a chance to close it for me. It’s a long walk up to my room ignoring the other students who have already heard about what happened today. I change into some comfortable clothes and lay back on my bed for a second to breathe. The springs dig into my back but at this point, I’m so used to the feeling that it’s almost a comfort to me.