Page 46 of Vicious Kings
Magic.
I look up, and sure enough, Caelyx is watching me with an expression of polite interest that doesn't quite hide the satisfaction in those red eyes.
"Let me help you with that," he says, already bending to gather the scattered papers.
The classroom empties with remarkable speed. Even Professor Riverden suddenly remembers she has somewhere urgent to be. In less than thirty seconds, we're completely alone.
Awesome.
"That was subtle," I say, dropping to my knees to collect my things. "Did you learn that trick in 'How to Be a Manipulative Asshole 101'?"
Talking to the prince that way is borderline suicide, but if I don't find a way to extinguish his interestnow, I'm as good as dead anyway. Unfortunately, being a smartass doesn't seem to do the trick.
He laughs, handing me a stack of papers. Our fingers brush, and electricity shoots up my arm.
"You're nervous," he observes, as if he doesn't know perfectly wellIknow he can hear my racing heart.
"Wow. Your powers of observation are truly astounding. Do you do parties?"
His eyes glitter with amusement. "Such sharp teeth for such a little rabbit."
"I'm not a rabbit."
"No?" He tilts his head, studying me with those impossible eyes. "Then what are you?"
"Tired. Annoyed. Desperately in need of a drink and about seventeen hours of sleep."
"There's that refreshing honesty again." He stands, offering me a hand up. I ignore it, pushing myself to my feet. "Most omegas would be falling over themselves for my attention, you know."
Coming from anyone else, it would sound downright narcissistic. From him, it's just a statement of fact.
"Yeah, well, most omegas probably weren't raised to see you as target practice."
The words are out before I can stop them. Then again, he already knows what I am, so hiding it would probably be more suspicious.
But instead of being offended, he looks delighted. "Is that what I am to you? Target practice?"
"Not anymore," I say, going for casual and probably landing somewhere around manic. "Now you're just one of the last four people on campus I need to have anything to do with."
"Oh?" That seems to genuinely pique his interest. "And why is that?"
I give a stilted laugh. As if he doesn't already know. "You're a prince. Part of the Golden Triad. Every omega here is gunning for a second of your attention, like you said. And I've had two hours of it, which makes me public enemy number one."
"A fair point," he muses, taking a step forward. I only realize how much ground those long legs can cover and how close I am to the wall when my back hits it. "But wrong on a couple of counts."
"And what are those?" My voice comes out strangled.
"First, I'm not a member of the so-called Golden Triad," he begins calmly, his voice like velvet. "That's my brother, his familiar, and Professor Drakiss. Last I checked, a triad was only three people."
I swallow hard. "Well, I haven't been to math class yet."
A smile that could be classed as a deadly weapon tugs at his infuriatingly full lips. "Second," he goes on, planting one hand on the wall to the left of my head, just close enough that his thumb tugs gently at a few strands of hair there, "it wasn't a full two hours. Lunch was only twenty minutes, and the lecture ended early. The way I see it, you owe me a full twenty-eight minutes."
My mouth is bone fucking dry, and I can only blame that on the fact that all my extra body fluid seems to have gone elsewhere. For a split second, I'm worried that my suppressants have failed, but nope. I don't feel that torturous heat that made it seem like my veins were about to melt in the forest. Just the normal yet damning kind building in my cheeks and between my thighs.
Apparently, suppressants do not stop slick. Good to know.
"I'm afraid I just don't have room in my busy schedule," I say, channeling all the sarcasm left in my body. "No offense."
