Confrontations & Confessions

confrontations we haven’t met. You seem to know me, though, so perhaps you should introduce yourself.”

Snap. Forcing her to initiate the polite exchange is a boss move in the South.

Shaking her thick sable mane, the woman tilts her chin up combatively. “He told me your manners were suspect. Now I see why.”

A surge of power slides over me, and I see Des’s head poke out from behind Morgana’s raven waves. It surprises me—the amount of control she must have to hide that kind of raw energy from her supe sides is impressive as fuck. And she’s using a form of dominant push as she glares at the rude bitch, but I didn’t think either of her species were hierarchy animals.

“Since Magnus didn’t feel the need to ever speak of you, I suppose you’ll have to live with being inconsequential. That is… unless you were a dirty little secret, in which case I’m unconcerned with your feelings.” Morgana crosses her arms over her chest, seeming larger with every word, though I know that can’t be true.

My mate is a force to be reckoned with.

The nasty laugh the woman emits is grating and I watch quietly, knowing this is an alpha female battle that I have absolutely no place in. No matter how shitty she acts, my mate has to come out on top if she wants this twit to spread the rumors around that she won’t put up with their childish, mean girl shit.

“I knew you were sleeping around on him, too. He swore you were too uptight and frigid, but no woman stays faithful to a man she barely sees for years. Magnus should have ditched your cheating ass and chosen me.”

I snort; I can’t help it. A man who cheats on one woman won’t stay faithful to another. That’s like lightning striking more than once in one spot—she’d have better luck buying a lottery ticket from the humans.

“Stay in your own lane, cub. No one invited the children’s table to the grown up chat.”

That’s it.

I lift my head, holding my tired as fuck body up with the regal bearing I’ve been taught by my Nana since childhood. My eyes ice over with the power of my bear and I give her a cruel smile. “Wolfenbergs don’t require invitations. We are the main event.”

Her eyes widen as I name drop Nana and it’s like her entire body wilts. “Wolfenbergs? You?”

“Such a shame the masses don’t wait until they have all the information before they shoot their mouths off. It reveals breeding and, of course, that tells one everything they need to know.” I smirk and place a hand on Morgana’s arm, gritting my teeth as her energy zings into me. “Who are you? She asked you a question, and it’s rude to ignore it.”

“My name is Lailani Bergstrom,” she blurts without thinking.

Hmmm. Not an influential family that I know of, though I can quiz Nana.

But Morgana’s eyes narrow and she growls softly. “You reported him missing in Egypt.” Her eyes rake over the woman again, this time with disgust. “The transcripts said you were an archaeological assistant. I doubt you could dig up a conch shell, much less an artifact. Of fucking course.”

Hurt wafts off my mate in waves, but her face doesn’t show an ounce of that emotion. Her countenance is all hard lines and anger, though it’s likely directed at her ex and herself. This chick is simply an idiot who believed whatever garbage the ex-Dean was spewing and followed him like a groupie on the school’s dime. Morgana seems to realize Magnus was probably doing the same on almost every trip he took and that’s smacking her in the face like a brick.

“You should probably make a note about vetting future assistants and consultants for off-campus travel in all departments, babe. I’m sure Magnus had his little birds everywhere. That will save the university a pretty penny,” I offer, hoping to give her an option for revenge that isn’t murdering this woman.

Shaking her head, Morgana pauses, then looks back at me with much clearer eyes. “You’re right, Lucas. I’ll have Channing write a proposal for vetting auxiliary staff for any travel in the future—from academics to sports. I have the feeling my ex’s habit of trotting his floozies around the world with him isn’t unusual at State U. The rot always starts at the roots, you know.”

Lailani gives us both a look that wavers between bravado and fear. She knows she’s fucked up now and has no idea how to walk it back. When she continues staring, I roll my eyes and wave a hand at her. “Be gone. You’ll be dealt with later. I’m sure your conduct broke a metric asston of university policies—Morgana is the Dean, after all. Open hostility and venom create a hostile work environment, you know.”

When she finally stalks off in a huff, I lean on the cart. “Shit. I thought that was going to go sideways in the middle of the store, M. Is that what happens when someone really crosses your lines?”

Her laugh is bitter as she shakes her head at me. “No. That was nothing. Ask her beloved Magnus what happens when someone truly crosses one of my kind—either of them, really.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I murmur as I lean in to kiss her jaw. “Since I prefer not being decapitated, I promise to not be a philandering fuckwhistle. That way, you don’t twist my head off my neck. Deal?”

Morgana blinks. “You read the transcript?”

I shrug, not worried for a second. “Who hasn’t? You’re infamous, babe.”

She sucks in a breath, pushing Des behind her hair, and looks up at me. “Let’s finish this shit and go home. You’re pale and I’ve probably created an incident. That bitch is probably tattling to someone as we speak.”

“As you wish, Morgana.”

I’ve learned that the strong women in my life are rarely wrong and Morgana is no exception. By the time we got home, I was pale and sweaty, so she hefted our bags on her back and damn near carried me to the door.

“You being this strong had to give lesser men a complex,” I joke, trying to erase the worried expression from her face.

Her eyes narrow for a second, then she shrugs. “Just remember how likely it is I can kick your ass if you decide to piss me off.”

She’s so damned perfect for me.

We hobble into the house and she dumps me on the couch to get comfortable while she takes the groceries to the kitchen. My head is spinning and I feel worse than the first day, like that much energy being spent completely reversed any progress I’d made. I don’t want to scare her, but even my bear is making noise in my head. This is terrible and I don’t know what the fuck we’re going to do. But I listen to her humming under her breath as she puts away all the food and snacks, keeping my concern to myself.

“Lucas, are you hungry? I think I’ll make a pizza,” she calls.

I’m not hungry at all, but I don’t want to kick up her anxiety. There’s nothing more she can do than the guys already are. “Maybe a little.”

I hate being a liar.

My eyes close as I let the haziness take over my brain, relaxing as much as I can on the cushions. She’ll take a few more minutes. I might be asleep when she finishes. Letting go of my thoughts, I vaguely hear my bear in my mind as I drift, hoping the rest will help me heal. Hibernation benefits bears and may increase my time.

Before I can slip into the deep sleep of my kind, the doorbell rings, making me bolt up in surprise. Who the fuck is that? Channing or the guys wouldn’t ring the bell. Morgana curses and she appears, stopping to run her fingers over my brow, then heads to the front hall. I should talk to her about getting better security again, because she could have ignored the door if she didn’t want to speak to the intruder.

“Good morning, Dean LeCiel. My name is Liam Spéirgheal, and this is my companion, Kaspar. We are your new neighbors.”

I can almost hear the huff in my woman’s voice as she answers. “It’s very nice to meet you and your partner, Liam, but unfortunately, I’m unable to visit today. If you call my assistant Channing, she can?—”

“You would turn away the Prince of the Daybreak Court ?” The second voice snarls and I realize this guy isn’t a ‘partner’; he’s a bodyguard. Fae royals never travel without one, and he sounds pissed.

“I… no offense was intended, Your Highness. I simply have school business to attend to and tight deadlines,” Morgana replies smoothly. She doesn’t even balk at the bodyguard’s tone, which is impressive.

A soft chuckle echoes through the hallway. “Dean LeCiel, you must excuse Kaspar. He’s not the most social of shifters, but he is loyal and keeps me safe. I am not here to make political hay with you. We saw you assisting a friend inside who looks very ill. I wish to offer my help—against Kaspar’s wishes,” he adds quickly.

At least he knows his man is a pit bull off the leash.

“Your assistance? How could you know we need help, Prince Liam?” my girl asks suspiciously.

The amusement in his tone fills the air, leaking into the room I’m in. “Because, dear Morgana, the poison he’s suffering from is certainly of Fae origin. My magic can feel that of my people, even the other types. Without my help, you won’t be able to heal him before it does its job.”

I almost shout at his words. No wonder Iggy can’t find it; the Fae are sketchy as hell about their magic. Morgana opens the door further and I hear fancy shoes and boots clomp inside. I can feel her mistrust, but she also won’t turn away help. Our bond is lighting up like a Christmas tree as she leads them into the back room where I’m sitting.

“Lucas fell ill two days ago after practice. He ate nothing prepared out of his sight, but his water bottle was unguarded while he was on the ice. Professors Shadwell and Briarton believe it’s a mix of magic and science, but that’s all we know,” she says as she looks at me. Her eyes darken, and I realize I must look worse than when we got home.

I tilt my head, looking at the Prince and his man. They’re both extremely attractive in different ways, and I notice their eyes skating back to my woman as they speak to one another in the Fae language. Prince Liam is tall, muscled, and has curly black hair that he’s got tied back in the popular man-bun style. His clothing is brightly colored, but perfectly tailored in a way that screams bespoke. It all suits him, though, and I’d wager my weekly trust allowance if he showed us his true form, it would all match like an artist drew him. His guard is dark, swarthy, and huge—if he’s a shifter, it’s a mythic because no normal animal is built like a fucking warehouse.

“Uh, hello? It’s rude to speak in front of others in languages they don’t know—at least, in their own house it is,” Morgana says with a glare. “Clue me in or get lost.”

Kaspar lets out a rumbling sound that gives him away immediately. That motherfucker is a storm dragon and Morgana needs to be very careful starting now .

“Easy, Kas. She’s right; we were being rude.” The Prince smiles and takes my girl’s hand, kissing her knuckles. “Forgive me, Dean. I am so used to working things out with Kas in my native tongue that I often forget how off-putting it is for those who do not speak Fae dialects.”

Morgana huffs like she wants to make a fuss as she pulls her hand back, but she nods. “So, can you fix him or what?”

Oh, we’re in trouble. I felt it in the mate bond, even if she didn’t.

Just like the two academics, my woman’s fate is tied to these two—and she’s going to hate that.