Page 125 of Malcroix Bones Academy

When those gold eyes shifted to me, I looked quickly away.

My eyes dropped to the newspaper Draken had tossed by my plate.

The photo took up much of the front page.

In it, Alaric leaned towards me over a wooden pub table, his fingers gently fingering the green crystal hanging on an antiquechain around my neck. Alaric was smiling faintly, his eyes intent, and between that and my cleavage being distinctly visible in the lacy, low-cut top, the pose looked suggestive, even intimate. My hair was a mass of black waves and curls. I also wore more makeup than usual, and I was smiling faintly.

I couldn’t remember what we’d been talking about at that precise moment, or what thought they’d caught me in the middle of, but I knew I’d been tipsy, and affected by that gold amulet, which made the whole thing feel unfair.

“It’s ridiculous,” I said, fighting a blush. “There’s absolutely nothing between me and Alaric. And now he’s probably going to have to answer to his family about this.”

“You’re not wrong about that,” Luc said quietly. “I doubt he’s looking forward to going home over the winter break, with all the attention this is getting.”

I winced at his words, and shoved the paper away.

Clearly seeing some element of my feelings on my face, Jolie patted my arm.

“It’s not your fault, Leda.”

Wasn’t it, though? I’d been the one to force Alaric to deal with me. And now it turned out Alaric’s paranoia about us being seen together had been completely warranted. Remembering what he’d said about his father, and what Caelum said about the Greythornes in general, I winced again, folding my arms.

“Ridiculous,” I muttered.

Draken looked a little chastened when I glanced at him.

“Jolie’s right,” he said, quieter. “It’s not your fault.” When I opened my mouth to argue, he cut me off. “Greythorne knew what he was doing. Hell, maybe he did it on purpose. Maybe he’s using you to push back against his father and his messed up beliefs. In any case, he decided to stand with you, and that makes him tons more decent than the rest of those wankers.”

I thought about that.

I glanced over at Alaric, and saw him looking at me.

He gave me a faint smile and a wink, then held up the paper. Pointing at the me part of the image, he raised his eyebrows suggestively, and I laughed, in spite of myself.

When I glanced at Caelum, he was leaning back somewhat, arms folded. The mask had returned, making his emotions difficult to read. His eyes appeared flat, empty, disinterested, but his jaw ticked as he stared back at me.

Damn him for looking hot as hell in all black, with tailored black pants, black boots, and an also-tailored black dress shirt. He had the sleeves rolled up and the shirt open at the collar, showing off lines of muscle on his arms and upper chest, and a tattoo I’d seen in person only once before and knew was of an artistically-rendered dragon. His blond hair fell partly in his face, but managed not to obscure either of his gold, cat-like eyes.

Wanker.

Perfect hair having, stupid hot, annoyingly smug, condescendingwanker.

I really,reallyneeded to do something about my dating situation.

I needed to fix that particular problem. Today.

28

Claws

Despite my angry, on-and-off thoughts since the early hours of that morning, when I actually made it, the decision was entirely spontaneous. Spurred on by a green and purple flyer, and an opportune moment with someone I had reason to believe might be open to the idea, I blurted out the words without thought.

“Hey, do you want to go to that with me?” I asked.

The mage standing next to me froze. Slowly, he turned his head.

I flushed at his astonished look.

“You can say no,” I clarified. “I just thought?”