Page 89 of Bound to Three Fae Beasts

Feeling my anger would only make me lash out again, so I blocked it out and pretended I didn’t exist until the meal was over and we were all filed into a ballroom. Apparently, it was time for us low-ranked students to watch the high-ranked ones dance and enjoy themselves.

I took the opportunity to slip out of the great hall, down the corridor, and into an art gallery that held the portraits of all the great house heirs that had been educated here. I smoothed the silky fabric of my dress and hid in a corner, trying to catch my breath.

Anger boiled in me. Not only from what was said about me, but also that it affected me so much. Of course, Seb was going to be derisive toward me in public. He’d said it himself; I’d never be good enough to be wife material. I was the shameful secret, the mate-bond he had to resist in public and indulge in private.

I sensed Gareth before he found me. I tried to slip away, hiding among the statues, but he was too quick. When I realized it was inevitable that he’d catch me, I quickly wiped my face to ensure there were no tears, then turned to face him.

He rounded one of the statues and paused, as though he hadn’t expected me to face him. A lazy smile spread over his face as he leaned against the statue. “Rough day.”

“What do you want, Gareth?” I asked bluntly. “I’m not in the mood for your usual games.”

“That’s too bad, because my usual games are exactly why I’m here.” He folded his arms as he studied me. “You made quite a spectacle of yourself, didn’t you? What a way to get attention.”

I rubbed my forehead, fighting back everything I wanted to say. I had to get away from him. In my current state, if I started talking, I’d easily lose my temper and say something I shouldn’t. “I don’t want attention. I’m sorry for embarrassing your friends. I should go back to my dorm and—”

“It’s too late for that. Come back to the party on my arm and I’ll help you undo the attention you’ve gotten. Especially from Flora,” he added.

I narrowed my eyes. “How? And why would you help me?”

He shrugged. “I still owe you a debt.”

The debt. I stared at him uncertainly. Was this really worth calling in that debt? Or should I save it? And when he figures out I’m a shape-thief, will I have the chance to remind him of his debt before he kills me?

Chapter 39 - Gareth

“I don’t think a party is good enough to erase your debt to me,” Azriel said. Her expression was flat, but her eyes had something in them, some depth that I was unable to read fully. She didn’t belong here. That much was clear for everyone to see. Yet, I didn’t think it was due to a lack of power.

No. She didn’t belong here the same way Freta didn’t belong here. The fae world had no room for compassion. No room for softness. It would squish them both like grapes, the same way it had squished their nerdy, harp-playing friend.

“Did you even read the briefing for this ‘party,’ or have you decided just to squander your opportunities?” I asked her, frustrated by her obtuse behavior. “This is a recruiting event. Everyone in there is watching the students. Those who don’t have houses may one day be recruited to work for a royal court. Your behavior now will make it more difficult in five years to find suitable placement.”

She frowned at me.

“If you act like you’re going to die, then you’re going to die. If you act like you’re going to live, you might have a chance,” I added. I didn’t care. Not really. I cared that Seb and Jasper had gotten so attached to her. If she died, I wasn’t sure how that would impact them.

It was the only reason why I kept being drawn to her. Why I gave her advice when I should be demanding answers. When I should poke and prod until she revealed the truth.

“On the other hand,” she said slowly, “after what happened during the meal, I’m pretty sure my presence will be insulting enough to make Flora send Red after me during the next trials. Especially if I’m not in full control of my temper.”

I grunted as I pushed off the statue and stepped closer to her. “I could help you with that one, too. Move into my room. Become my mistress. It’ll piss Seb off, but it’ll keep Flora off your back.”

She fell back a step, staring at me with a slack jaw. Then color rushed to her cheeks and she clenched her hands. “I’m worth more than that.”

“How much more? I can pay.”

“I am not even going to indulge this conversation,” Azriel said flatly. “Did you really think I’d believe you? One night and you’d be running around bragging about it, and I’d have more humiliation to deal with. It would be worse than square one. You’re only making the offer because you want Seb and—” she mouthed Jasper’s name. “All of them to think I’m just cheap and not worth their time.”

Even though she was angry, she still had the wherewithal to protect Jasper by not saying his name out loud. She glared at me and I found respect welling up in me. She was soft. She was compassionate. But she was also angry. She was fighting, even when she acted as though death was inevitable.

This draw I felt to her was impossible. I’d never felt it before, even when I was young and got foolishly infatuated with the beautiful women my father sent my way. I couldn’t stay away from her. And it made me foolish and weak. It made me jealous of my friends, when I should just be worried about what she had planned for them.

I didn’t come here for rank or a mate. I came to hunt. I came to kill. The shape-thieves targeted my mother for a reason. We were from a strong bloodline, sworn to destroy the detestable creatures. Even my own father didn’t believe the prophecy of the last shape-thief, but my mother had raised me to know the truth.

The last shape-thief. They were meant to be twenty-one years old now. I knew that they’d want to come to the Academy. How better to bring it down, and with it the structure that had kept the fae strong for the last thousands of years?

I stepped closer to Azriel, and this time she held her ground. I searched her face, looking for the tells. The flicker, the wrongness. Mother hadn’t had the chance to train me how to spot shape-thieves properly, which was why I wasn’t sure now. Was Azriel the shape-thief, or was the shape-thief framing her?

“We could have a contract,” I said.