Page 38 of Twisted Ties

“No. He’s at Azlan’s. He’s bringing him later.” She meets my eyes again and I’m guessing he’s told her. Some of it, anyway. The sanitized version. Even Azlan wouldn’t be bitter enough to divulge the deep, dark secrets of our fucked-up family. Not unless he wants his fated mate fleeing from him in disgust.

Mentioning his name while she glares at me is a clear attempt to provoke me, though. One I’m not about to bite. I don’t say a word.

“Who’s Azlan?” Aysha says. Pig Girl smiles at her, an expression that has my jaw tightening. “Oh my god, he isn’t your boyfriend, is he? Who is he?”

“Some loser, I’m guessing,” Summer says. “Who would want a scrawny little scab like her? She smells and looks like a pig.” Summer tosses her hair, then her eyes twinkle. “Maybe Azlanisher pig.”

Spencer elbows Dan. “Pig Girl, are you finally confessing that you’re in a relationship with that swine?”

The group bursts into laughter, all except me. The girl ignores them and rolls her eyes as if to say, “Honestly, is that the best you’ve got?”

“Come on,” Summer says, tossing her hair a second time and beckoning to her friends, “we need to get to cheerleading practice before the polluted air gives us herpes.” She catches my gaze and winks.

Summer and her girls file along the path, bashing into Pig Girl’s shoulder as they go. She keeps her feet planted and refuses to move. I linger behind, watching as Spencer passes her last. As he does so, he grips her upper arm and hisses into her ear,

“Where have you been, Pig Girl?”

“None of your business,” she says.

I watch with interest. Spencer blows hot and cold. It’s like night and day with him. One minute the heart of the party, joking around like he just was; the next so fucking moody you’d think he had PMS. But I don’t think I’ve ever seen the change come on so lightning fast, all the humor from a minute ago gone in a flash. Now he just looks pissed.

“It is my business. Everything that happens in this school is my business.” She scoffs, and he squeezes her arm. “Tell me.”

“I’d let go of me, if I were you,” she says in a low dangerous tone.

“Why? You going to blast me again, piggie?”

“Maybe,” she says.

“You’re playing with fire,” Spencer hisses.

“I’m not playing with anything. You’re the one gripping my arm and demanding answers from me.”

He huffs angrily and pushes her away.

“You would have been better off leaving, Rhianna,” he says, then sprints off to catch up with our friends.

She watches him go, then spins around and jolts when she realizes I’m still here, blocking her path.

She holds my gaze for one long minute, her slight shoulders rising and falling, and I have the stupid urge to close the space between us, force her head back so she has to look up at me, so that she knows how much bigger I am than her, how much more powerful.

I don’t care who her mate is. I could crush her in my hand like a little butterfly. Bend those fragile wings of hers all out of shape so she can’t ever fly away.

She jerks her chin up at me. “Come on then, it’s your turn. What you got? A lewd comment about my pet? A veiled threat? Demands I tell you my life story?”

I don’t speak. I simply stare at her. There’s a fucking hickey on her neck, hidden under her hair, peeking out from the collar of her shirt, but I can see it. It makes me want to destroy her all the more. That or press my lips over the bruise and mark her with my own.

My blood warms imagining it. If I did it, would she squeal and squirm in my arms? Or would little noises of desire bubble in her throat instead?

Unlikely.

She chose him. Not me.

She’s his. Not mine.

“This is an improvement,” she says. “Going for the silent treatment, huh? It’s a vast improvement. In fact, I think this may be our most enjoyable conversation yet.” She smirks at me in just the way Spencer had smirked at her earlier. “Maybe being bonded to Azlan is going to have its advantages.”

“You should keep your mouth shut about that.”