Page 6 of Bite Me

There still haven’t been any announcements about letting new students join this semester. I only applied for the volunteer rounds because my entire reason for coming to Doxlothia was crushed by the decision Doxlothia’s board of directors and Dacre Everhart, when they refused to admit any new students last semester. That’s what you do if you’re not in the culinary club: you volunteer. That part I love. Making the dough for pastries, or assisting with the biscuits and gravy for the dining hall breakfast. I love the hurry. The heat. The smells. I even enjoy the yelling and barking of orders.

After the craziness of the first semester following my sisters and me coming to Doxlothia, maybe it was for the best that they barred new students from joining. I trained harder than I ever have, focusing on the culinary curriculum and learning anything new I could.

I don’t know what this letter is about. Maybe things have changed and he’s ready for a truce, but I won’t hold my breath.

Chapter Three

Emma

I hide my bandaged hand as I leave the bathroom and clean up my station. Everyone has carried on without me, including Kitty, and I don’t think they’ll look for me as I slip out the door into the dining hall. The envelope is burning a hole in my pocket, and for a split second, I think about leaving for my room to read it. But I promised my sisters I would finally eat with them this morning because I’ve been skipping to volunteer.

Before arriving at Doxlothia for the house assignment test, I had imagined the castle would be dusty, filled with cobwebs, and dimly lit to hide the dirt caked into the carpets. All the movies I watched as a kid depicted castles that way, but once I left Groveshire, the outside world proved to be much shinier. They keep this place so clean that you could eat food off the floor. Really. I’ve seen someone do it with tears streaking down their face when the duck they had spent the entire day preparing toppled onto the tiles.

The dining hall is lit with a skylight and large windows, and there are flowers sitting in the rafters. Sometimes, I memorize the painted scenes on the arches. Each one is different; some with landscapes and animals, others are portraits or florals. It’s strangely whimsical.

People steer clear, even when they smell me walk past and sit down next to my sisters. Having sweeter blood doesn’t mean much to me, not when my mother handled it with such grace. She was never scared, so I’m not either. Plus, thanks to my older sister Olivia and her recent engagement to her hybrid werewolf-vampire mate, we’re under his newly founded pack’s protection. Which . . . is a total of three people, right now. But my other sister, Evangeline, the oldest of us three, is helping him hold some interviews for new pack members.

Olivia always picks the spot next to the window, where it’s warmest, and Eva and I have to squint at her in the morning sun.

“Why is everyone looking at you?” Olivia says, pulling apart her croissant.

The steam floats into the air in an intoxicating puff. It’s perfect. Just like I wanted.

I show her my hand and the red stain on the bandage. Her violet and gold eyes widen, and she reaches for me. I quickly hide it in my apron.

“Let Parker patch it.”

Werewolf healing saliva or not, he’s not getting it near me.

“Ew, he’s not licking my hand,” I say.

She rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t have to lick you directly.”

“I don’t want spit in my wound, thank you. I get you’re into it, but that doesn’t appeal to all of us.”

Olivia glares and takes another bite of her croissant. Everything Olivia does is dainty and soft. Even the way she chews her food. It has to be the ballet discipline.

“I’ll go with you to the nurse,” Eva chimes in.

She picked her hot pink blazer today. It’s too much for her complexion, but I’m not going to tell her. Eva’s recently mellowed out from her usual anxious blur. Since Olivia’s recent near-death experience and time in the hospital, Eva has spent a lot of the energy she used to spend worrying about everything else on Olivia. Olivia is tired of talking about what happened, so we don’t. I don’t blame her. It’s in all the papers and still making rounds on the gossip forums. The bottom line is that they’re hanging out together more, which is great because I really need to focus.

“No, I can find my way afterward. Stop worrying. Plus, I have something to do today,” I say.

I think briefly about telling them, but I’m not in the headspace for feedback or, very likely, pushback. I should have just gone to my room to read the letter because if I whip it out now, they’re going to be nosy. If our roles were reversed, I would be too.

“Hello, ladies.” Parker comes in with wet, messy hair. His shirt is clinging to his chest as if he put it on seconds after the shower. Like Olivia, he is dressed in Noxx House purple. “How are we feeling today?”

Parker is the only reason I’m not scared that the entire cafeteria might ambush me. His protection as an alpha is enough. I’ve seen him threaten lots of people, and he means business. Plus, he’s huge, and his position as the Rage team captain, a sport that involves beating your opponents bloody on the ice, means no one wants to challenge him.

“So, Em, need me to patch your hand?” Parker asks.

I shoot Olivia a glare that she pretends not to notice.

“Or I can walk you to the nurse,” Parker says after intense eye contact with Olivia.

“Stop that,” I say.

Their mate bond means they can speak in each other’s heads. It’s so annoying. I can tell when Olivia’s zoning out and gossiping about me telepathically. It’s a new development, and they haven’t gotten good at hiding it yet.