Page 30

“Great.” Mikel slapped his hands together.

“Oscar, Moses, Elijah, and Gabriel—you’re on planning and preparation with me and Kalen.

The rest of you—wipe this shit from your brains.

Double your efforts in front of the cameras.

We need you pulling so much focus that nobody even has time to think about the rest of us.

This is the first and last time we’ll discuss our plan. It’s simply too risky. Isobel?”

“Yes, Sir?” She blinked up at him.

He smirked. “Nice try. You’re still being punished.”

She scowled. “Worth a shot.”

“After we’ve made contact with Amina Al-Fahim and we’re sure she’s on board, we’re going to get her to the top of your waitlist. At that time, we’ll bring you up to speed on some of the plan so that you can negotiate with her. Okay?”

“Yes, Sir.” No harm in trying again.

This time, his gaze raked over her, his chest expanding. “You’re only making me want to punish you more. ”

“Stupid Alphas,” she grumbled beneath her breath.

“Is everyone clear on their roles?” he boomed out, tearing his attention from her.

As soon as they agreed, Kalen assigned them a brutal workout, though he held back Isobel to give her a modified plan.

After sweating through the next hour, she showered in the bathroom attached to the gym and hurried to her next class, Advanced Icon Matters.

Professor Dubois had taught her fuck all in her third-year Icon Matters class, and this one was no different.

She sat between Theodore and Moses, each of them with a proprietary hand on one of her legs, their hands so big that their fingers curled to hook into the sensitive skin of her inner thighs.

The entire class shot their group wary, curious looks as though they could also sense the simmering rage that still brewed beneath the surface of the big Alphas.

They were also whispering, it seemed, about the way Theodore and Moses were possessively clutching her, but when she jostled her legs out of habit—forgetting that she was supposed to be encouraging the rumours instead of avoiding them—both Theodore and Moses leaned closer.

Their grips tightened, threatening to bruise her skin, the stifling heat from their rigid bodies searing her sides.

She had shared a bed with each of the organised pairs by now, most of them twice.

She still woke screaming every night, even though she had done her best to exhaust herself as completely as she could.

One of her mates was always tugging her close and whispering to her through the shivering haze of panic that gripped her in painful claws.

She never remembered falling asleep again, and when she woke up in the morning, her bed was always empty.

Her last night had been with Moses and Oscar, and she could still feel Moses’ weight as he rolled on top of her, his stormy eyes boring into hers as he demanded that she focus on him.

It hadn’t been soft, especially with Oscar rumbling dangerous sounds that made the bed shudder. They had banished her demons with a firm hand and then tucked her between their stiff bodies, clearly uncomfortable with the entire setup, though they didn’t give her even an inch of breathing room.

She glanced at Moses now out of the corner of her eye.

Since coming to the realisation that she would need to make the first move with him, she had found herself utterly stuck.

She frowned, gnawing on her lip, surprised when he turned his head, his eyes locking with hers.

He lifted his hand from her thigh, easing her lip from her teeth with a soft touch.

“Leave it alone,” he muttered.

“Leave her alone,” Theodore snapped, slapping his hand away.

She had no idea what was real and what was a performance. Moses was supposed to rise to the bait, showing the world two devastatingly handsome brothers fighting over her. But he didn’t. He only smirked, his palm falling back to her thigh, squeezing firmly.

Heat swooped low into her belly, her breath shortening. Both of their hands twitched.

Sitting with some of the others in the row before them, Cian turned his head, surveying her with an unreadable expression.

You want them to fight over you, Sigma? His voice pushed into her mind, the reverberation of the sound telling her that he had dragged the whole group in there with them.

She could feel her face flushing and quickly tore her eyes away to focus on whatever the professor was droning on about so that nobody would think she and Cian could communicate in their minds.

No , she answered.

Liar , he purred.

Dick, she shot back.

Demanding little Sigma, aren’t you?

She pretended to accidentally kick the back of his chair. It wasn’t a demand. It was an epithet.

The fuck is an epithet? Oscar’s rough voice broke into their conversation. The fuck kind of rich girl word is that?

She was calling Cian a dick , Elijah explained, not demanding a dick.

Jesus fucking Christ. Oscar’s voice had turned to a snarl. Believe it or not, I managed to gather that much .

Isobel shifted in alarm, realising that Oscar wasn’t just snarling into her head. He was growling. Out loud. The other students were now sending their group terrified looks, and the professor seemed to be monitoring them from the corner of his eye.

Actually, I was demanding dick , she quickly said inside her head.

Loudly.

Very smooth. Theodore’s laugh chuffed quietly from his chest, his voice inside her mind laced with humour. Any dick in particular, or just whatever happens to swing your way?

Oscar had stopped his terrifying rumbling sound, apparently interested in her answer.

I’m leaving it up to fate ? —

Oscar was out of his chair, his hand wrapped around her wrist, half pulling her from her position.

“I’ll show you fate,” he whispered, so low she almost missed it.

Moses and Theodore tightened their grips on her legs.

She had less than a second to deescalate the explosion that was about to happen.

“Shit.” She laughed nervously, glancing up at Oscar. “I did promise to sit with you today, didn’t I?”

He glared down at her, fighting the madness inside him. A tiny thread of realisation flashed out from the darkness of his gaze, and he glanced down at the grip he had on her wrist. He scoffed, the sound carrying a warning. “I don’t give a fuck where you sit.”

The whole class had fallen silent. The professor was no longer speaking, but he also wasn’t intervening.

Even he could feel the danger emanating from the Alphas.

They weren’t allowed to touch him, but his instincts didn’t care about that, and the palpable sense of danger they were throwing out was primal.

“Sure you don’t,” Isobel shot back, raising a brow at him.

He snarled and tugged again, but this time, Moses and Theodore released her, trusting that she had this under control.

Brave of them.

Oscar immediately dragged her back to his seat beside Niko, dropping her into it while he sat on her other side. And then he set his hand on her thigh, and she didn’t think it was possible, but his sneer seemed to curl with a smug sort of satisfaction.

“May I continue with my lesson?” Professor Dubois asked sarcastically, though he didn’t dare look at Oscar. He directed the question to Isobel, who nodded, mumbling an apology.

When the morning break rolled around, she separated from the Alphas and hurried to the chapel.

Usually, she texted Sophia a warning, just in case a student was in the chapel or Sophia was occupied, as she had taken up the job of trying to homeschool Luis when her mother was busy.

This time, she was too distracted by her own thoughts.

What if the journalist didn’t know anything?

Would she even be interested?

Would she even believe them?

What if it took months—or years? They didn’t have years.

Would the Alphas be forced to watch her again next Friday?

How many more Fridays could they survive?

How many more could she survive?

She pushed open the chapel door without a thought, almost running straight into Bellamy. He looked furious.

“Sorry—hey, Carter.” He sniffed, red-faced, and began to stalk away.

She frowned, catching his arm and halting him. He allowed her to stop him, but he stared straight ahead, his entire body vibrating.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “What happened?”

For a moment, he just stood there, then he spoke lowly and furiously, his words so quiet she had to lean close to hear them.

“ They happened,” he spat out. “They said they wouldn’t hurt her as long as I cooperated.

” He tore his arm from her grip, his face deathly pale.

“It’s over,” he whispered. “Between me and her. It’s done.

Go …” He jerked a violent nod at the chapel.

“Fucking … protect her.” He spun on his heel and stormed away, and Isobel’s stomach dropped to her feet.

She forced herself to a dopt a normal demeanour as she approached the chapel, ignoring the pounding of her heart and forcing a confused look over her shoulder in Bellamy’s direction, as though he had just quietly ranted madness to her and none of it had made any sense, and then she pushed into the chapel as she did on most of her morning breaks.

As soon as the door fell closed behind her, she rushed through to the attached residence, banging on the door until it opened.

She fell back a step, horror crashing through her.

“Soph—” Her voice cracked with despair, her eyes widening.

Sophia had a black splotch around one of her bloodshot eyes and a cut through her cheekbone.

Her head was shaved, and there was crusted blood around her lips.

As soon as her eyes began to water, Isobel quickly pulled her into a hug, immediately gentling her arms at the other girl’s flinch of pain.

Sophia laid her head on Isobel’s shoulder and began to sob, and Isobel’s dread turned into an avalanche.

Because her best friend’s sobs … were soundless.