Page 49 of Blood Oath
Baelfire reels back from the force, gripping his jaw as he freezes with shock. Silas blinks between us at an equal level of surprise. Meanwhile, a vicious smile curls one side of Crypt’s mouth up.
I shake out my hand, pretending like it doesn’t throb. It will definitely bruise, but if I draw any attention to it, they’ll just be even more impossible to shake right now.
And I have to get away from them quickly. Because I just slipped up. I lost my cool, and I can’t let it happen again. My emotions are dangerously close to the surface when I shouldn’t be letting myself feel anything at all.
I am nothing but deadly calm. I can’t want them.
“For the last time, you all need to fuck off.”
My voice isn’t as steady as I’d like, but at least my glare keeps them from coming any closer. And as if the universe has finally decided to give me a break, the echo of a shrill whistle sounds far in the distance, signaling the end of combat training.
I march away.
15
BAELFIRE
I rub my jaw in bewildered disbelief. I’m one tough son of a bitch, but that punch was no joke. Maven walks away without a single glance back at the three of us, but there’s no way she can’t feel how hard we’re staring after her.
Can she blame us? She looks so godsdamned fuckable in my shirt, the hem riding up slightly around the backs of her beautiful, toned thighs. I can’t rip my eyes away from her delicious ass and the sway of her hips.
Mine, my inner dragon growls with need.
Hell yes, she is.
“Maven just…touched me,” I finally manage, coming back from my shock as a grin splits my face.
“Yes, in precisely the only way any of us ever want to,” Silas mutters. Then he turns and glowers at me. “What did you do to piss her off like that?”
I start to tell him I did nothing, but then I hesitate, frowning. Did I do something to upset Maven? Just the idea of mistreating my mate in some unknown way has my stomach sinking, the growl of my inner dragon causing me to bare my own teeth.
I leave them behind quickly, using my shifter speed to catch up with Maven. She’s already stepping out of the woods when I reach her side, fingers itching to pull her close. She looks cold, and I’m always warm.
Before I can say a word to her, my heightened sense of hearing picks up on Sierra Hill saying Maven’s name under her breath, mixed in with a string of vicious cursing. She’s sitting on the grass outside the edge of Everbound Forest, looking like shit and grimacing as another legacy pops her arm back into place. She turns to glare as Maven passes by, but when she spots me, her face turns even redder than it already was.
“Bael,” she whines, blinking away tears. “Come help me?”
Fuck that.
Her family has been friends with mine for years, so I’ve had a front-row seat to Sierra’s manipulative personality and extreme temper tantrums for a while. I hooked up with her once when I was bored and regretted it heavily when she set my room on fire while I was still sleeping. Good thing I’m fireproof, but none of my shit was. She’s toxic as hell.
I’m tempted to scare her straight so she keeps Maven’s pretty name out of her mouth, but it’s a waste of my time when I need to make sure my mate is okay.
Ignoring her to keep up with Maven, I follow her through a concealed servants’ entrance that puts us in an empty, narrow hallway skirting one of the wings lit dimly by fae lights. I’m so distracted by my inner dragon’s sharp need to comfort our mate that I reach for Maven’s hand to gently turn her to me.
“Boo? What?—”
She stops and wrenches her hand away, breaking my hold on her. Although her face is still eerily composed, the flash in her dark eyes as she glares at me has heat curling up my spine.
“Why are you so touch-averse?” I demand. “Why?—“
The words die on my lips as a possible reason crosses my mind. Why else would she hate touching people unless something happened in her past? What if she was…
Stark horror mingles with fury, and I suddenly can’t breathe. My dragon reacts by nearly taking over, and I have to stop and cover my face with both hands, fighting the searing burn spreading in my veins.
“Maven. Tell me it’s not what I think it is,” I manage in a strained voice.
“What?”
