by May Dawson
A mirthless smile crossed his lips as he turned to me, crossing his arms over his chest—gingerly, as if it hurt. “How much of the past few days when you were supposed to be here at the academy are you missing?”
I closed my eyes, trying to remember everything that had happened. “Nevermind. It’ll come back to me.”
“Mm,” he said. “The academy doc thinks you sustained a bad concussion and that made you pass out. But I was reading the damndest thing about magical drain in the Hunters’ books before this weekend…”
“Rafe.” I glanced toward the door, willing him to shut up.
“And for some reason…” His jaw tightened as he closed the distance between us abruptly then sat on the edge of my bed. My body swayed toward his as the mattress dipped under his weight, “I didn’t tell him about it.”
“Good.”
“Another funny thing.” He grabbed the blanket and peeled it away, before I snatched the top and dragged it back. Someone had undressed me—except for a sports bra and undies—because I had the same bandages as Rafe across my abs.
He fixed me with a dark look. “You and I will have matching scars now.”
“That’s kind of romantic,” I said. “Too bad it’s wasted on you.”
“You’ve always got jokes.” He didn’t seem to appreciate them though.
My head felt light, and I was so exhausted I would’ve fallen back to sleep if Rafe’s proximity didn’t give me a tell-tale burst of energy. “Given that I was unconscious five minutes ago, that seems like a superpower.”
He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I think you saved my life, Northsea.”
“You seem strangely ambivalent about that.” I frowned as memories flooded back to me. Rafe, catching me in his arms, turning to take a bullet so I wouldn’t…
That grouchy asshole cared, he really did.
But he’d threatened to have me kicked out of the academy for using magic. He’d covered it up with the doc, but that didn’t mean he always would. Maybe it’d be better if I pretended I really didn’t remember.
“I’m happy to be not-dead,” he said flatly. “I’m worried about having a witch on campus.”
“Rafe,” I said. “I’m not a witch. You know I’m a shifter…you’ve seen me shift.”
“When there are witches around, can you really ever trust your eyes?” he demanded. “You could be changing my memories. Changing what I see—”
“You know me!” I shot back.
He shook his head. “No, I don’t. And you summoned me, with this bizarre magical pull—”
My pendant had summoned him. Did that mean he loved me too? Or did it just mean my magic thought my ridiculous crush on him was love? That was a lot to take in.
But still, something had happened that had summoned him, even though he denied it before. He hadn’t just tagged along with Lex. “You felt it.”
“I felt something.” His dark eyes studied me intently. “It could be a trick.”
“I didn’t do it on purpose.” I pressed the heels of my hands into my aching eyes, as if that would ease my headache. “Do we have Tylenol or something? Why are you even here?”
He glanced toward the bed next to mine. “I’ve got some healing to do too.”
“And you’re sleeping in the same room as me?”
“Keeping an eye on you.” He wandered across the room to look across a table in the corner.
“Sweet.” I said mockingly.
Of course, he would make a big deal of not being able to trust Jensen and me since we’d snuck off campus—but I couldn’t picture him curling up in a sleeping bag on the floor of Jensen’s room.
“No, it’s not,” he said. “I don’t trust you, Northsea.”
His harsh words stabbed into my chest, but his face was thoughtful and his gaze was steady on mine. The way he looked at me didn’t match his words.
He picked up a bottle from the table and shook a pill into his hand, then carried it across the room to me along with a plastic bottle of water.
“Even if I save your life?” I asked, and my voice came out more curious than hurt. That was a relief.
Anyway, he’d saved my life first. I’d owed him.
He handed me the pain reliever, and as I swallowed it, he twisted the top off the bottle of the water. I eyeballed him—did he really think I couldn’t open a bottle myself—but I still took a long sip to wash the bitter taste of the pill down. I hadn’t realized how dry my mouth was, and I guzzled the water down.
He shrugged. “Don’t take it personally. I don’t like magic, and I don’t trust witches. Look at what we’ve been through this week and tell me I’m wrong.”
“We’re on the same team, Rafe,” I said, exasperated. “Don’t tell me not to take it personally. We have to trust each other—we fought as a team this week, all of us, and we did amazing things together—”
“We’re good together,” he admitted, interrupting me. “Turns out the academy is good for something after all, isn’t it? You guys worked as a team.”
“Yeah,” I said. The academy wasn’t perfect, but maybe the misery did serve a purpose. I was tough on my own, but that was nothing like when the eight of us fought together.
Maybe Rafe was trying to distance himself from that team when he said you guys. But he was one of us.
“Do you think maybe one day, we could fight as our own team?” I asked. “The Council’s Own?”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Northsea.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Right. Because you might try to get me expelled—”
“If that happens, it’ll be because you tried to get yourself expelled,” he told me coolly. “And if the Council thinks that witches infiltrated the damn school, they would kill any witches. No matter how useful they were.”
The threat tightened my chest. I’d thought my skill with magic would be an asset to the academy. Not a threat.
“I’m a shifter, not a witch.” I reminded him again, my voice hot.
“Maybe you’re both.” He said it quietly, as if he’d been mulling it over. “Maybe one of your parents was a witch—”
“My parents are both shifters.” I said it with certainty, the second before the memory slammed home of my father’s voice reaching me, of the demon that had protected me…
Maybe I didn’t really know anything about my father.
“What?” he asked, breaking into my thoughts, which were racing. “What’s going on in that wild brain of yours, Northsea?”
“Nothing,” I said.
It wasn’t as if I was already planning to leave campus again, to track down my father and get the answers I needed.
“You look me right in the eyes and you lie to me,” he said, his voice frustrated.
“I look you right in the eyes, and it’s none of your damn business,” I shot back.
He stared back at me, his eyes smoldering, and I wasn’t sure what kind of heat he felt—anger or desire. For me, Rafe’s anger sparked both—anger of my own, and desire.
He leaned closer to me, resting one hand on either side of my hips, his big body intimidating and sexy all at one time.
“You are my business,” he said. “It’s my job to protect you.”
He was an overprotective, arrogant ass, but his words still sparked warmth across my body.
“Then we have to trust each other,” I said. “Jensen and I were in danger out there because we didn’t have the team. And we didn’t have the team because we didn’t know if we could trust you and Lex to have our backs.”
He shook his head, his gaze never leaving my face. “You were in danger because you’re reckless and cocky and stubborn. Both of you.”
“Also true,” I said, “but irrelevant.”
“Even without the magic,” he warned me, “you’re on thin ice at this school.”
Oh, the expulsion threat again? I shook my head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You better not,” he muttered.
His ga
ze on mine was still intent. I wondered if he felt the same tension between us, the heat that had my thighs tense. Damn, Angry Rafe really was Sexy Rafe for me.
He could threaten me, but the truth was written all over his face when he looked at me.
Rafe would protect me. Lie for me, take a bullet for me. He’d done both in the last twenty-four hours.
I leaned forward, and he did too. When our lips brushed together, his hand rose and cupped my cheek, his fingertips resting lightly on my cheekbone. There was so much affection in that tender touch.
It was just the faintest kiss. I wanted more of him, and I shifted closer, deepening the kiss—
His eyes widened, as if he fully realized what he’d just done. He rolled off the bed and—shirtless and damaged—strode out of the room without a backward glance.
The door slammed shut behind him.
Once he’d gone, the room was too quiet.
I was the worst when it came to boys.
I threw myself back down in the pillows, covering my face with my hands.
Face down an evil coven? No problem.
Deal with shifters who betrayed their own kind? Got it.
Save the life of a team mate when they were about to bleed out? Done.
Face-to-face with my crush?
Total. Disaster.
“If it’s not too late, I’d prefer to die of my wounds,” I said to the empty room, dragging a pillow over my hot face.
“Nah. I’d be lost without you.”
I bolted upright to find Penn leaning in the doorway. Instead of his school blazer, he wore a sleeveless t-shirt and athletic shorts that exposed the ink tattooed on his chiseled arms.
“Penn,” I breathed. He’d been through so much in the past few days, but he looked as cool and relaxed as ever as he sauntered across the room, no matter what he’d just said.
He sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s wrong?”
I shook my head. I didn’t want to talk about it. “What happened after I passed out?”
“Rafe called Jensen’s dad, who called in the Council. Handed over all the drugs to them.” He shrugged. “Basically got a meddling kids bitch-out and no gratitude. But they agreed they’d reveal Tommy lied—they just won’t reveal the full truth about why. Still, Eliza’s name is cleared. The smugglers are out of commission. It’s a win.”
I nodded, but I was troubled. Pack politics seemed to be more important to the Council than anything else.
“So anyone left in the packs who was working with the smugglers gets a pass,” I said.
“I wouldn’t count on that,” Penn said tightly.
He had to go back to his pack and face them again.
“Hey,” I said softly. “How are you doing?”
He shook his head. “It all happened so fast. My father was murdered, and I fought the man who killed him. He was an old friend. He died of his wounds later, he couldn’t shift and heal himself. It’s… over.”
He sounded like the thought overwhelmed him. As if he was only allowed vengeance, not grief. I frowned, worried I wouldn’t find the right words to comfort him.
“That doesn’t mean you can’t have feelings about it.”
His lips twisted. “I’m the alpha of my pack now. Well—for as long as I survive it. I can’t have feelings.”
“You’re not the alpha in here,” I told him. His gaze swept to my face as I told him, “You’re just the man I love.”
Penn leaned in and kissed me, a soft, tender kiss for once. It felt like a testing kiss, and he pulled away first.
“Even knowing what my pack did?” he asked. “Working with the witches, hurting our own kind—”
“Penn. You’re more than the pack you come from.”
His lips pursed. Whatever he wanted to say, he held back.
“Hey,” I said, an edge of sharpness in my voice I hadn’t intended. “You really don’t trust me? After everything we’ve been through? When I tell you I love you, I want you, don’t you dare second-guess me. I know what I want. I know what I need.”
He stared back at me, frowning in disbelief for a second, before he grinned. “Wow. You’re yelling at me.”
“Couples fight,” I said.
“And they make up.”
I tugged him down onto the bed beside me, and he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight. His breath fluttered my hair as we lay intimately close.
It felt good just to be close to him, held in his strong arms, breathing in his familiar, pleasant scent.
“If you want to tell me about your father,” I said quietly. “I want to know everything about you, Penn. I mean it. I’m not going to lose my respect or affection for you because of your human side. You don’t have to be alpha around me.”
He closed his eyes, and I thought for a second that he would keep that last door closed between the two of us.
Then he said, “It’s complicated, you know…”
The two of us held each other tight as Penn told me about where he’d come from, and where he was afraid he’d have to go.
Chapter Fifty-Three
Jensen
My father paced across his office floor. He’d called in me, not Rafe or Lex, to answer for our team now that the Council had taken our statements and left.
“This was a sensitive situation before you blew it up,” my father said, raking his hand through his hair. “The packs would use it as an excuse to go to war with each other. They’re already hungry for each other’s territories.”
“Sorry I wanted to honor my dead sister’s memory,” I said. “They lied about her, dad. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“Of course it does.” He frowned at me. “I’m proud of you, son. I’m glad we know the truth about Eliza.”
He was proud of me? Before I could make sense of those unfamiliar words, he added, “But we can be the only ones who know for now. The smuggling ring has been stopped—you finished her legacy. The Alpha council will take action from here. That’s what matters. We need peace between the packs while we fight the covens.”
“The smuggling’s been stopped, this week. There’ll be another,” I said. “God, Piper and Maddie being kidnapped as kids might have been an inside job. Now we know shifters and witches are working together.”
“Some,” he interrupted. “A handful, versus so many innocents in the packs that would be endangered if we display any weakness to the witches. It’s not worth war. We have to deal with the witches first.”
“Dad—”
“Jensen! This is bigger than either of us.” He softened, and said, “And you and Will, you’ll be there—and the rest of the patrols—when there’s another smuggling ring or something like it. You’re loyal to something greater than yourselves, even greater than the packs. You’ll be there.”
He genuinely did believe in the academy. I’d thought my father only believed in himself.
“I’ve got to get back to my team,” I said. “Check on everyone.”
“Hunt and Northsea are still in the infirmary.”
I nodded.
“You and the girl,” my dad said. “What happened there?”
I hesitated. I wanted a relationship with my father, but I wasn’t sure I wanted that much of a relationship.
“You don’t need to know,” I said.
“She still doesn’t belong here,” he said. “The packs don’t want women at the academy. They don’t want women in the line of fire.”
“They don’t want women taking their glory, let’s be honest,” I said. Eliza had been worth a dozen of them. I stopped and turned back. “I’m done with your crusade, Dad. I’m not trying to force Northsea out. She belongs here. And if you come to hurt her, you’ll be coming at me too.”
He pauses, his eyes troubled. Then he said, “I won’t come after her. But if she can’t make it, she can’t make it. The trials start next week.”
“She’ll make it,” I said.
She was Madeline Northsea.
And she had m
e on her side.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Maddie
“Northsea!” Rafe called me as I was headed down the hall toward my room.
“Morning sir,” I said as I turned to face him. It was the first time Rafe had said anything to me since our heated exchange in the infirmary the day before.
“I’ve been thinking about ways to make you and Jensen suffer appropriately.” He leaned against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.
I groaned.
Honestly, Rafe ignoring me as if I didn’t exist had been a worse punishment than anything else he could dish out. I hated the possibility he thought less of me because of my gift for magic. I hated the possibility he’d given up on me for my mistakes.
I screwed up sometimes, but I was a whole lot more than my mistakes.
“Did you think you’d get off because you were shot?” he asked. He seemed back to his usual cool, stern amusement. “Because you were only shot a little bit.”
“You were only shot a little bit too,” I fired back, before I realized that was not the tack I wanted to take.
“Yeah,” he said grimly. “You’re fooling them, you know. But you’re not fooling me.”
I didn’t think I could.
“No magic,” he told me firmly.
My lips tightened. I wasn’t sure I could truly avoid magic, despite my best intentions. I wasn’t going to let anyone on my team die on my watch. I’d healed him with magic, no matter how much he hated it.
“When you give me that rebellious look, it makes me want to take you over my knee and spank you,” he muttered.
My eyes widened in surprise, and a look flashed across his face like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. The thought of Rafe’s hands on my body lit a fire inside me that made it hard to stay still. There was such a small distance between us that I could close, like we had in the infirmary.
“You’re just such a spoiled brat,” he clarified carefully, “that it seems like you’ve been desperately missing a lot of—” he faltered, apparently unwilling to use the word spanking again. “Anyway. We’ll have to do this the slow way.”
“Maybe you should try it your way,” I shot back before common sense returned.
