Page 24 of Blood Oath
What she tastes like.
“I don’t owe anyone an explanation. Go find another keeper, Silas Crane.”
I make no move as she leaves the greenhouse, but the longer I stand here, the more it sinks in.
My paranoia was silent the entire time we were alone.
No thoughts of her trying to kill me, no jumping at shadows, no hearing voices.
“Intriguing,” I murmur to myself.
But not half as intriguing as my keeper is. She must have a reason for resisting the bond. I intend to find out exactly what she’s keeping from us.
8
MAVEN
That was a bust.
Internally chastising myself for trying to bore my most studious match with plant facts of all things, I make my way through a crowded corridor toward my first class of the day. I rarely take this route since I prefer passing as few students as possible, but I quickly realize just how terrible an idea it was to take it today of all days, right after the Seeking.
Everyone knows who I am now.
That’s painfully obvious with the amount of stares tracking my every move. I can hear whispering, and a few people even wave and try to say hello. Others size me up. And since glowering at them or using choice words would be seen as a challenge and drum up more legacy-power-struggle drama, I decide to take the easy way out and stare at my feet as I walk, pretending none of it is happening.
Just a couple more weeks until the winter solstice. If I don’t fulfill my mission by then, I’m leaving Everbound anyway.
Stepping into my Introduction to Runes class, I climb the stone steps to the right of the amphitheater-style seating to get to my spot in the back, where I’m sure people will leave me alone. But when I arrive at the section of long desks and benches, I pause at the sight of the annoyingly chipper dragon shifter waiting for me.
Baelfire’s smile is dazzling. “There’s my Boo.”
“I’m not your anything. You’re in my seat.”
He points at his face and winks. “I’ve got a better one right here for you.”
Fucking dragon.
When I just stare silently at him, carefully avoiding letting my emotions seep onto my face, he scoots over slightly to make room for me on the bench.
“I’ve never been to a casting class before, but I’m excited to see what you’ve got hidden up those adorably oversized sleeves.”
I want to huff that he has his own classes, but noticing all the PDA-infused groups getting settled in the classroom—many of which are not in the House of Arcana—I remember Kenzie mentioning over a week ago how matches typically go to their keeper’s classes for the two weeks after the Seeking. The school allows it because they place such extreme importance on quintets.
Inconvenient, but whatever. I’m nothing if not adaptable.
I sit on the edge of the bench, as far away from him as possible, while Professor Crowley starts class. The rest of the legacies present quiet down, but there is still a stomach-churning amount of soft arm caresses and cheek kisses. Gods, just looking at it all makes my skin itch. I try to focus on the lesson.
But I quickly learn that dragons make terrible desk mates.
First of all, Baelfire is such an enormous mass of brawn and heat that he encroaches on my space without meaning to. He’s keeping his hands to himself but not his eyes. I can practically feel his gaze memorizing my profile as I look straight forward, purposefully ignoring him.
“I didn’t sleep worth shit last night,” he says suddenly.
Ignore.
“So, to pass the time, I made two very long lists.”
Ignore.
