Page 52 of Malcroix Bones Academy (Bones and Shadow #1)

A few seconds later, it angered me. How dare he?

Then it confused me.

What the hell was wrong with him? And why on Earth would he take issue with Strangemore?

Strangemore might not be old money, but Caelum Bones didn’t think I was good enough for old money, anyway, so that shouldn’t bother him.

Graham was hardly an intellectual threat.

He even played Skyhunt, and just about every mage and witch at school seemed to worship that sport, and adore Graham for being good at it.

As an additional bonus, he wasn’t Draken, whose very existence seemed to offend Bones at some deep, molecular level.

Why would he even care who I went out with?

It’s not like he’d deign to so much as look at me, much less talk to me, if he hadn’t decided I was useful to him.

Like Draken said, Alaric was notably different from the rest of them, not only by being my friend, but by allowing the other royals to hear about it.

Bones made it crystal clear from the beginning of our “deal” that his bigoted friends could never know he felt anything towards me but revulsion.

Did he really not want me touching anyone in Magique at all?

Would he only be happy if everyone shunned me?

The gold eyes shifted away.

I didn’t miss the tick in his jaw, or the cold look in his eyes as he nodded to something one of the other royals said.

I should be happy.

Let him be mad. It was a good reminder that any warmer, fuzzier thoughts I might have about him were completely delusional.

And I needed that reminder, clearly, given my stupid, masochistic dreams. How I could harbor some kind of twisted crush on someone who’d wiped their hands in disgust after touching me was next-level idiocy.

Yet I struggled to let it go, anyway.

He always had to be such a judgmental prat about everything. He had no personal boundaries, no self-control, no ability to stay out of my business no matter what aspect of my life he stumbled upon.

Again, I should be happy about this. Wasn’t the whole point to stop thinking about him?

To purge him from my thoughts by giving my over-active mind a better distraction?

If my going on one stupid date with some random guy from Flying class was enough to get him to ignore me, I should have done it weeks ago.

Feeling his eyes on me again, I clenched my jaw.

Without looking at him, I adjusted the shoulder strap of my satchel, then walked out through the nearest exit into the main corridor.

I’d planned to go to the library after dinner, or even back to Frumpy’s, but I no longer wanted to do either.

It was stupid to care what Bones might do; most days and nights he ignored me entirely, unless we had a research session scheduled.

He occasionally yanked me into closets to dump his magic into me, or took the time to jeer at me and make disgusting comments with his friends, but apart from that, I may as well not exist while we were in public together.

Even so, I couldn’t help remembering my dream.

My mortification at the thought of having to deal with him in close quarters tonight, especially if he felt the need to interrogate me about a lot of nonsense that wasn’t even his business, was enough to change my mind about going out.

Turning on my heel, I walked back to the college’s main stairs and began to climb.

I had a perfectly serviceable desk and chair in my room.

Jolie likely wouldn’t be there, so I’d have the place to myself. I had all the books I needed, so I didn’t have to be in the library.

I even had a brand new box of herbal teas.

I walked up to the seventh floor, then all the way down to our room. I unlocked and pushed open the door without glancing up, then came to a dead stop when I heard Jolie laugh. I found her sitting on my bed, beaming at me.

In her arms, she cradled?

“I hope you don’t mind,” Jolie said apologetically. “I couldn’t help myself. The box was making noises and when I opened it up, I just couldn’t stand it. I had to pick her up and boop her little nose. Silly thing,” she added fondly, staring down at the face of the creature in her arms.

It was a cat.

A kitten, really.

It was deep black, with thick, curled fur and bright green eyes.

I felt my stomach twist.

“Where…” I managed, and swallowed. “Where did it come from?”

“Someone left it as a present for you,” Jolie said, beaming.

“A present?” I echoed numbly.

It hit me suddenly, what day it was. I’d known that, of course, but I hadn’t really let myself think about it this year, even though it was sort of a milestone, being my twentieth.

Gods. I hadn’t told anyone it was my birthday, had I?

No, because I wouldn’t have done that, would I?

It wasn’t something I’d advertised even in Overworld.

Given it was also the day my parents died, to say this particular day brought up confused feelings in me would be a ridiculous understatement.

I hadn’t gotten an actual birthday present from anyone but Archie since before my parents died.

“Isn’t she lovely?” Jolie cooed. “I think she’s absolutely gorgeous.” She held the kitten sideways, so her face aimed at me. “She looks like you! Do you see?” Jolie beamed. A large green bow was tied around the kitten’s neck. “She’s got your eyes. And your hair.”

“But where… where did she come from?” I stammered.

Jolie gave me a sly look. “They didn’t sign the card. I figured you’d know, given what was written there. Whoever it’s from, they left the box outside the door.” She winked at me. “I think you have a secret admirer, Leda.”

I made myself move.

I walked towards my bed, but before I reached Jolie and the cat, I stopped to stare at the box, which had been wrapped pristinely in black and silver and green silk wrapping paper.

The lid had been wrapped separately, and round holes punched all over the top.

An open card was attached to the side of the box.

My name was written on top of the card. I lifted the flap, and felt my stomach flip when I recognized the inhumanly perfect script.

Reminded me of you. She’s a good girl, too.

Such a lovely, sweet purr.

My jaw slowly clenched.

I stared at the perfect lines until they blurred.

I read it again. Then again. My stomach twisted in hard knots.

That absolute piece of bloody dragon excrement?

“Who do you think it’s from?” Jolie asked, not hiding the curiosity in her voice.

She was still stroking the small black cat, cooing to it.

“I don’t think it was Draken,” she added.

“Mir and Drake were with me when I first came in, and Draken seemed pretty bent out of shape about it. Especially after he read the card.” She watched my face. “Do you know who gave it to you, Leda?”

I slowly shook my head.

“No,” I lied.

Jolie opened her mouth, her eyes skeptical.

She closed it again.

“Well, you’d better take her,” Jolie said, matter-of-fact, holding out the tiny ball of black fluff.

“I’ve got a group study session tonight at Frumpy’s.

I’m already late. I didn’t want to leave her alone in an unfamiliar place.

” She pointed at the floor, where two small bowls were already sitting out.

“She’s had water, and I brought her up some tuna and milk, but she’ll likely need a few things tomorrow. ”

I took the cat carefully from Jolie’s hands, and cuddled the small creature against my chest. As furious as I was at the gift-giver, a part of me couldn’t help but melt at the little thing now that it purred against my skin, kneading my sweater with its tiny claws.

It infuriated me even more when I realized I already wanted to keep it.

I’d never had a pet. As a kid, I’d always wanted one.

Ankha had never allowed any animals in her house.

She threw an absolute fit the one time Archie and I tried to bring home a stray dog.

She’d shown up within hours, even though we hadn’t seen her in months.

She yelled about shedding, and dander, and urine on her antique rugs, and disease, and then she’d dragged the thing outside by the scruff of its neck, and shut it in her car and driven it away, despite our crying and begging.

I never saw that dog again. I’d been afraid to ask what had become of it.

No way would I let that happen to this cat, for any reason. No matter who gave it to me, or what sick joke he was playing, I wouldn’t punish the small, painfully soft kitten that meowed plaintively as it stared up at me with its enormous green eyes.

“If I was a worse person, I’d name you arsehole,” I murmured to the cat after Jolie left, rubbing its nose and kissing it. “Or wanker, maybe. Or prat. But I think I’ll name you Wraith. Is that all right? I know it’s not very girly.”

The kitten didn’t seem to have any objections.

It pushed its head against my fingers and purred louder.