Page 16 of Wicked Dove (Institute Thirteen #1)

“Oh, I didn’t mean are you ready for the food. I know you need that. I mean…” She doesn't say another word as we approach the doors, which swing open to reveal what can only be described as carnage.

There are people everywhere. Specifically, students. Each one wearing the same uniform as me, with guys in pants, of course, but the only difference is some don’t have aubergine stitching; they have red, or orange, or another concoction that makes up the rainbow.

The purple on mine must represent Institute Thirteen. I hadn’t considered that.

Noise echoes around the massive room as the chatter grows louder and louder, but I look past the students to take in the surrounding area. There are thirteen different zones, each a different color. Red, orange, yellow, pink, purple, green, gray, white, black, brown, teal, peach, and burgundy.

It takes me a moment, but I realize the aubergine purple stitching is the same shade and the embroidered emblem on my chest is the same symbol as the section at the far end of the dining hall.

If the coordinating colors didn’t give it away, the labeled sections would.

Red is for Institute One, and from there, the colors form an order, including the institutes that have been abandoned.

Following Ocean down the center of the room, I notice each section comes with its own food, counter, tables, chairs, and…

vibe. I already know Thirteen is going to be the worst. It’s right at the end, lifeless and dingy, as though it was an assigned space after everything else had been decided, like we were an afterthought.

I take the purple tray Ocean offers and join the line for the food. There are no options as I approach the servers. It’s a bowl of porridge, and an apple. I frown down at it, considering whether it’s worth it or not, but my stomach chooses that moment to grumble again.

Disappointment weighs heavily on my shoulders. I would die for a boxed mac and cheese right now, regardless of what time of the day it is.

Following after Ocean, I glance toward section one, where I know I smelled the sweet goodness of buttermilk pancakes, but it seems we don’t get the same offerings. Trying to ignore that fact, I round the end of the table to sit across from Ocean with my back to the rest of the room.

We’re right at the end of the table, while a dozen other Institute Thirteen students crowd the opposite end.

“I’m sorry we're alone. I don't have the best reputation,” she murmurs, keeping her head down as she takes a spoonful of her porridge, and I shake my head.

“If anything, I'm grateful,” I say with a smile.

Glancing down the opposite end of the table, I expect to see unwanted eyes on me, but to my surprise, it’s like I don’t exist. I definitely like it. This will help while I avoid unnecessary drama and try not to let people realize I do exist.

Reassured, I lift my spoon to my mouth, loaded with porridge, and dig in. I cringe at the tasteless concoction, but push through in an attempt to fuel myself. Everyone seems to be in their own world until the doors swing open and a trio of men enter the room, capturing everyone's attention.

Kael, Rion, and Thorne.

They move with an air of swagger I've never seen before, cutting down the center of the segregated walkways with every pair of eyes on them. It’s already clear, they're a force to be reckoned with. My gut twists in agreement. I may have only just arrived, but I’ve seen how this kind of thing pans out.

The cheerleaders will be hanging on them any moment.

What surprises me the most is that when they reach section thirteen, they don't join the line for food. Instead, they take a seat in the center of our table, leaving a few empty chairs between us. Rion and Thorne get comfortable on Ocean’s side, while Kael sits across from them on the same side as me.

Thankfully, none of them bother to look my way, but it doesn’t stop me from staring.

“Aren’t they going to eat?” I murmur to Ocean, who snickers, not bothering to reply with words as she nods behind me.

Peering over my shoulder, I stare in disbelief as the chef from section one hurries toward the table, a huge tray in her hands loaded with three plates, each filled with pancakes, bacon, and scrambled eggs.

That looks like some special treatment to me.

I wonder how I get myself some of that, but I quickly tamp it down, because I know my only goal is to get out of here, and if that means eating slop until I go, then so be it. Despite my enthusiasm to buckle down on my plan, the next spoonful of porridge doesn't taste any better.

I dare to take a little peek down the table and I watch as the three of them dig into their food, seemingly unfazed by how delicious it looks, when a flash of red hair approaches the table.

I frown at the red stitching etched onto the breast of her blazer as she catapults herself across Kael as a sickly sweet giggle pierces the air.

My stomach does a flip as I snap my gaze back down to my food, pretending I'm not paying any attention to them. It’s impossible when she cackles so obnoxiously loud, and I can’t deny that they hold my attention, along with everyone else’s.

“Kael, baby!” She squeals as she puckers her lips toward him, but he’s instantly dismissive. Not that she seems to notice as she wraps her arms around his neck. “Baby, you're back. We can—”

“We're nothing, Willow,” he interjects, his voice cutting through the air like glass, yet he doesn’t even bother to look at her.

I have to bite back my smile, but a part of me is slightly glad it's not just me on the receiving end of his shitty attitude. I’m even more enraptured in them as she continues to fawn over him, apparently unfazed by his rejection.

“I mean, while you were gone, sure, but are you not hearing me? You're back. We both know you haven't touched anyone but me since you were last here,” she muses as Ocean chokes on a drink across the table from me.

Water splashes everywhere, narrowly avoiding my porridge, and I’m slightly disappointed I don’t have an excuse not to eat it.

My gaze latches onto my roommate’s as my cheeks heat, and Ocean splutters, shaking her head as she wipes her hand over her mouth.

I glare at her, hoping that I do enough to make her be quiet.

Thankfully, she keeps her gaze on her bowl of porridge instead of making the situation any worse. Willow, the redhead, doesn't seem to notice as she coos over the deadly vampire.

“You can't tell me you haven't thought about me, Kael,” she insists, and he shrugs.

I tilt my attention to his friends across the table, but Thorne and Rion seem to be ignoring her existence as they eat in silence.

“I wasn't thinking about you when I was eating pussy yesterday morning,” Kael grunts, taking the next breath from my lungs as she gasps.

“You wouldn’t,” she grinds out through clenched teeth, and I’m sure I’m going to die.

“Don't whine, Willow. It’s unbecoming of you,” he grunts in response, making her pout.

As I force myself to stuff another spoonful of porridge into my mouth before I do something crazy, Willow carries on.

“Kael, please tell me you didn’t,” she whimpers, and doubt settles over me.

Holy crap, I didn’t ask. I didn’t—

“Oh, fuck off, Willow. You were probably fucking Tiran,” Kael snaps, and she launches to her feet, wagging her finger in his face.

“How dare you!” she snarls before her eyes latch onto me.

“Who the fuck are you?” It feels like the world stills as I blink at her.

“Are you dumb? I said, who the fuck are you?” she repeats, kicking me out of my head.

Her attention on me catches me off guard, but that four-letter word—dumb—reminds me who I am, and no matter how much I want to keep my head down and get out of here, I have to defend myself.

“Nope,” I grunt, popping the P as I sit up straight in my seat with my hands curled into fists in my lap.

The lack of attention I was basking in is short-lived as I feel eyes on me from every direction.

“Then answer me,” she pushes and I shrug.

“I’m good.” I reach for my apple, trying to play the nonchalant game, but I sense her stalking toward me, no longer bothering with Kael as she comes to the edge of the table right beside me.

“I said, answer me,” she snaps, swiping the tray of food from in front of me, and I cringe as it clatters across the floor.

“Leave her alone, Willow,” Kael snarls, and I glower at him.

“Do not try to come to my rescue,” I bite, and he grunts.

He slowly stands, nostrils flaring as he tucks his hands into his pockets.

If this were my first time meeting him, I’d probably be scared, but I’ve seen him alone.

Although, I don’t know if that makes any difference.

I was scared then too, but I had more adrenaline coursing through my veins to realize.

“I’m protecting my interests. It's my job as your guardian, remember?”

My eyes turn to slits as I fume, but it’s Willow’s whiny voice that cuts through the air.

“Guardian?” she blurts, practically vibrating beside me. “Why the hell are you her guardian?”

“So he didn't wind up dead,” Rion interjects, and I want the floor to open up and swallow me whole; anything to take me out of this goddamn situation as soon as possible.

When it’s clear that’s not going to happen, I chance a glance at the crazy redhead beside me, only to find her features scrunching in disgust.

Dammit.

I know what that look means.

Understanding.

“It was you,” she snarls, launching herself at me. “You touched my man,” she growls as claws extend from her knuckles and she swipes at my face.

Pain cuts across my skin, a strangled cry of horror coming from my lips as I somehow manage to stay upright.

I don’t know how, adrenaline, sheer determination, or deranged willpower, but rage fuels through my bones as I slam my palms into her chest, just like I did with Kael.

I channel all of myself into the move, but just like yesterday with Rion, nothing happens except she stumbles with the force.

“Back the fuck off, Willow, before I use your blood for my next spell,” Ocean warns, throwing her arm protectively around my shoulder, and Willow snickers, unfazed.

“Shut up, Ocean. No one gives a shit,” she smarts back, tossing her hair over her shoulder before turning her attention back to Kael.

“You're done, Willow,” Kael snaps as I lift my hand to my face, slowly becoming more aware of the blood trickling across my skin.

“You went too far,” Thorne snaps, and Willow cackles with glee.

“Shit happens. I mean, look at her face. He'll never fuck you now,” she promises, but her words do no harm as Thorne appears in front of me, shielding me from her view as I remain frozen in place.

He tips my chin up with his finger and the chaos around me disappears until it’s only the two of us. “Come with me.”

His gaze reaches my soul once again, and like the apparent crazy, scythey bitch I am…

I go.