Page 23

AVERY

I woke up the next morning feeling cold and stiff and uncomfortable.

Frowning, I looked down at myself with blurry eyes.

Well, no wonder I was cold! I wasn’t even under the covers and it got chilly in the dungeon at night.

Also, why had I gone to sleep with my trousers on?

They were unfastened, as though I had meant to pull them down but…

Wait—I’m not the one who unfastened them!

Suddenly I remembered Saint’s hands on my body, stroking and touching, telling me he wanted—no, needed to be inside me…

Oh Goddess—we hadn’t done that had we?

No, I remembered, as more of the night before came back to me. But we had certainly done…other things. I touched my fingertips to the spot between my eyebrows and felt an answering tingle. Oh yes, we had done more than enough.

“Good morning.” The low, rough voice to my left made me turn my head. I saw Saint sitting on the side of his bed with his elbows resting on his knees. He was looking down at the flagstone floor between our beds, not meeting my eyes.

“Uh, good morning?” I said, not sure if it really was a good morning or not. It certainly didn’t look like my roommate was having one—he had yet to look up at me and make any kind of eye contact. “Saint?” I asked. “Are you okay?”

He gave a short, barking laugh that had no humor in it at all.

“You’re asking me that? After the way I treated you last night?”

“You were kind of rough,” I said cautiously. “But your Drake?—”

“I can’t blame my Drake for everything!” Finally, he looked up. His eyes were his own—obsidian black, I saw. But they didn’t look happy. “Look at what I did to you, Avery,” he said, gesturing at me. “I held you down and Marked you—I made you mine even though you didn’t want to be.”

Ah—so that was the problem. We had Marked each other in a very obvious and visible way and two males never Marked each other. He was probably regretting that decision right about now—wondering what everyone was going to think of him once they saw my Mark on him and his Mark on me.

“Look,” I said reasonably. “It’s not like we’re Blood-Bonded—Marks aren’t permanent. If you want to remove them before anyone sees?—”

“No. The Marks stay,” he said, surprising me. “I want everyone to know you are mine and I am yours.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

“Saint—” I began, rubbing the side of my neck. “Ouch!” I winced as my fingers touched an extremely tender spot. Abruptly, I remembered how he had bitten and sucked my neck the night before.

His eyes traveled to where my fingers were gingerly exploring the tender place.

“Another sin to add to my account,” he muttered, shaking his head.

“Well, if you don’t want us to remove the Marks, you can at least heal this,” I suggested, pointing to my neck. “I know you can—you healed worse after Juan punched me.”

But he shook his head, surprising me again.

“No. That mark stays as well.”

“But, Saint!” I protested uneasily. “My hair isn’t long enough to cover this and it’s going to be right above my collar.

When people see it, they’re going to assume we…

uh, you know…” I cleared my throat. “ Did stuff together.” I couldn’t think how else to put it.

“And I know you don’t what that ,” I added.

“Let them think whatever the hell they want,” Saint said, frowning. “I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks—the most important thing is letting the other Drakes know you’re mine.”

He got up abruptly and started getting dressed.

“We had better get going. Breakfast is in fifteen minutes.”

“Is it?” I looked at my alarm clock and winced. So much for being an early riser. I scrambled to get up and get dressed myself, changing into a fresh uniform and throwing the crumpled trousers and the shirt and blazer that were strewn across the floor down the laundry chute.

The whole time, Saint didn’t say a word to me and I didn’t talk to him either.

I couldn’t help thinking that exchanging Blood-Marks with someone was supposed to draw you closer together.

It was a sign not only of ownership but of protection and love.

But in our case, it seemed to have driven us apart.

As expected, the collar of my shirt didn’t cover the massive bite mark/hickey that Saint had left on my neck which was just under my left ear.

I winced as I glanced at it in the mirror—oh yeah, people were going to be making assumptions, all right.

And the thing was, they wouldn’t be completely wrong because Saint had been all over me last night.

The thought of that—the memory of his body against mine, his mouth on my neck, his heat branding my bare skin—sent a shiver straight through me. Goddess, parts of it had been frightening, but I still couldn’t help the way my body responded to Saint’s touch.

This morning, however, he appeared not to want to touch me at all. He kept a strict distance between us, being careful not even to brush my arm as we finally left our room together and climbed up the spiral staircase that led out of the Norm Dorm and into the Dining Hall.

I wondered if he was angry with me—or with himself for Marking me?

Had he only done it to keep his Drake happy and he was secretly disgusted with himself for being with me?

But he had snapped at me earlier and claimed that not everything could be blamed on his Drake.

So did that mean he did want to be with me but felt guilty about it because of his upbringing?

It was all very confusing and I didn’t know what to think—I just wished Saint would at least talk to me about what he was thinking and feeling.

But as he strode across the Dining Hall to our table, my tall, dark roommate was a closed book.

He didn’t look at me at all but the minute I took a seat in my usual place, he went to the other end of the table, getting as far from me as he could again.

I sighed inwardly. It would have been really nice to have his support once the rest of my Coven mates noticed his Mark on me—and mine on him. Instead, it looked like we were going to be playing “let’s ignore each other” yet again.

I was getting Goddess-damned tired of that game.

“Hi Avery, how are you?” Megan asked as she and Griffin came to sit at the table. They must have gotten through the line early. “I was kind of worried about you yesterday. I…oh…” Her voice trailed away as her eyes flicked up to the spot on my forehead.

Some Marks are more visible than others, especially to discerning eyes. I don’t know if it was because of the intense emotions Saint was feeling when he Marked me or just the fact that the Marks were more noticeable because we were both male, but mine was definitely prominent.

Megan’s gaze flicked from the glimmering Mark on my forehead to the left side of my neck and her eyes got even wider.

“Avery?” she whispered, sounding concerned. “What…uh, happened last night?”

“Nothing that would make good Breakfast table conversation,” I said as lightly as I could. “Speaking of which, I hope they have something decent for a change. Since I skipped Supper last night, I’m actually hungry for a change.”

Getting up, I sauntered towards the cafeteria line, keeping my head high as I did so. I knew the kind of abuse that was coming my way but damned if I was going to hide from it—I might as well get it over with, I told myself.

I just wished that Saint was with me. Having to show myself wearing his Mark without him by my side made me feel utterly alone and, to be honest, kind of abandoned. But since he seemed to want to play it cool, what else could I do but play along?

Nancy’s eyes widened as she saw the Mark on me as I went through the line, getting scrambled eggs and hash browns—a halfway decent breakfast for once.

Her mouth dropped open when she saw the hickey that went with it, but luckily, before she could think of anything to say, I was through the line and getting my morning coffee.

I got it fixed perfectly with extra cream and sugar, just how I liked it, but just as I was about to go back to my table, an angry shape loomed in front of me.

“You got a lot to answer for, you fucking mariposa!” Juan Gonzales snarled as he glared down at me. “I know you put a spell on me to make me act like a damn cabron yesterday! Someone put that fucking poem you made me write on-line and now everybody thinks I want your faggoty ass as my ‘boyfriend’.”

“That spell wasn’t my fault—you’re barking up the wrong tree, Gonzales,” I said coolly, though my heart was racing. I’d been meaning to get up early and whip up a personal protection shield-spell to head off just this kind of trouble. But since I’d overslept, there had been no time to do it.

“You little—” He stopped, his eyes widening as he finally noticed Saint’s Mark on me. “Is that a Blood Mark from another male?” he demanded, narrowing his small, dull-brown eyes as he stared at my forehead.

I lifted my chin.

“Yes, it is,” I said. Raising an eyebrow at him, I added, “You have a problem with that? Feeling a bit jealous , perhaps?”

Juan made a face.

“It’s fucking disgusting! What kind of sick pervert would Blood Mark another male?”

“I would.” The low, dangerous voice over my left shoulder was familiar and I knew that Saint had finally showed up. Well, how kind of him to back me up, even though he was giving me the silent treatment, I thought waspishly.

“Well hello , darling,” I said casting a glance over my shoulder at him. “You’re a bit late to the party but better late than never. Juan here was just admiring the Mark you put on me last night.”

Saint ignored me—he was too busy glaring at Juan, who was glaring right back.

“ You’re wearing his Mark too!” he snarled, staring at Saint’s forehead and making a disgusted face. “You let that mariposa Mark you? What the hell is wrong with you, Santiago? You under a spell or something?”