Chapter 5

Five

"You still interested in coming with me to the gym?" I ask Becks, who's leaned up against the locker next to mine as I unload the books I don't need.

He shakes his head. "Something came up with the council. I have to shoot over there right now. Sorry."

"No worries," I say, trying to cover my disappointment.

Becks has a far-off look in his eyes when I shut my locker and turn to him. I'm about to ask him if everything is okay when Shawn, a fellow dragon shifter and one of his vodenball teammates, comes up from behind him and slaps a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, Becks. Heard the council is looking for your match. You'd better get whatever fun there is to be had right away before you're shackled to some chick."

Becks swivels his head to glare at Shawn, but Shawn doesn't even see because he's already moved past us to join a group of guys exiting the school.

"What's he talking about?" I ask, anxiety crawling up my chest to lodge in my throat.

Becks won't meet my gaze, his eyes unfocused as he runs his tongue over his top row of teeth.

"Becks?" I prod around the knot of unease.

He releases a sigh and finally looks at me. "The council decided it would be beneficial for me to be mated after I graduate."

My heart stops, the blood freezing in my veins, chilling me to the core. It takes a solid five seconds before I can respond.

"What? They want to mate you? You're just barely eighteen. Usually heirs aren't matched—let alone mated—until their mid-twenties."

"Yeah, well—" He grabs the back of his neck, rubbing it as he grinds his teeth. "They decided otherwise."

"But . . . why?"

Panic wells in my chest and spills over like a boiling pot of tar, scalding my insides and making it hard to breathe.

I always knew Becks wasn't for me. Even before he was named heir I knew he was destined to marry someone powerful and would never be mine. I told myself so many times that I was just thankful and content with our friendship, but as the reality of Becks being pledged to another female stares me in the face, I know I've been lying to myself the whole time.

I'm not okay with just being his friend, and I don't think I ever will be.

Hunching over so we're closer in height, he gently grabs my shoulders and turns me toward him. "Don't worry about it, okay? Nothing will change between us. I promise."

Not even Becks' warm touch can thaw me now. I am ice. Hard. Cold. Incapable of feelings.

"Change nothing?" Is he delusional? "Becks, having a life-mate is going to change everything . Not just between you and me, but in all aspects of your life. Nothing will ever be the same again."

Becks straightens, putting distance between us. "I know that!" he snaps, taking me aback. Becks hardly ever raises his voice, least of all to me. "They said that it could just be a mating in name at first. At least until next fall. So even if I'm matched, I'll have the rest of the summer."

He runs a hand through his hair; the strands stick up at all different angles. There's a wild look in his eyes he's trying hard to contain, and it's in that moment I realize that the lie that nothing will change is what Becks is telling himself to hold himself together.

Does the thought of Becks being matched, let alone mated, to another female unleash an almost debilitating sense of panic within me? Yes, of course it does. But even if it feels like I'm cracking apart, this is happening to Becks, not me. If I'm panicking, Becks has to be doing a million times worse. He doesn't need a friend who's freaking out on him right now, he needs a rock, someone calm and solid who will tell him everything is going to be okay, even when it obviously isn't.

I move closer to Becks, placing a light hand on his forearm for comfort. The muscles beneath his skin are tight and bunched, as if he is getting ready to hit something, but then he starts to relax beneath my grip.

Shifters are a touchy-feeling bunch, especially dragon shifters, who see physical touch as a way to offer heat to another. According to Becks, it's comforting and seen as a way to care for one another, so although physical contact is a little awkward for me, I don't shy away from it now because I know it soothes my friend.

"You're right. It's going to be okay," I say, my voice leveling out and calm. "It's still mid-semester, so you have months before graduation." Really only two, but I don't point that out. "And who knows, maybe the council will change their mind and give you another couple years like you expected. Nothing is set in stone right now."

"Right, exactly," Becks says, some of the crazed look leaving his eyes. "Maybe they will change their minds."

Now that some of the shock has worn off, his comments about not having control of his life and his bitterness against the council earlier today make crystal clear sense now.

"Is there any way to get out of this?" I ask gently, hoping there might be some sort of loophole to help him prolong the inevitable, or maybe get out of his situation altogether. Arranged matings of any sort are almost unheard of nowadays, but as the dragon heir, Becks has to play by a whole different set of rules than the rest of us. If only being the dragon heir was something Becks had a choice in. It's a role he never wanted, but it's not one he's in a position to abdicate.

He shakes his head. "Not that I know of, but I can do some poking around."

"Would your parents be able to help?"

Becks stiffens up again. "They won't be any help," is all he says, and I get the impression I shouldn't push for why.

"Okay. Well, you have me and Ens. We can both search for anything about council rules that might help." Even as I say it I know it's a hollow offer. The House of Dragon is notoriously private. Becks is open with me about most things, but never that.

"Please don't say anything to Ens," he asks. "She doesn't know yet."

That surprises me. As close as Becks and I are, Ensley is his sister. But I agree, not wanting to upset him any further.

Becks looks relieved and changes the subject, trying to lighten the mood and pretend he's fine, but there's tension in his shoulders and splashed across his face. There has to be a way to get my friend out of this situation. I may not be privy to the inner working of their council, but that doesn't mean I'll give up.

Thoughts of Becks and his situation swirl in my mind, distracting me from anything else, and so my workout that afternoon is sloppy at best. I almost sprain my ankle sparring with one of the other teachers when I lose my footing. Then I forget to put the clip on the barbell, and when I start lifting, a fifty-pound weight drops off the end of the bar in the middle of my bench press, narrowly missing the foot of a burly wolverine shifter as he passes by. He chews me out for a solid three minutes before moving on. Sweaty and defeated, I give up after that and grab a quick shower in the locker room.

The rest of the week doesn't go much better. I hardly see Becks—he doesn't sit with Ensley and me during lunch—and the few times I catch him between classes or after school he seemed distracted or in a rush. After the first few days I can't help thinking he's avoiding me, regretful that I know about his impending life-mating. On that note, Ensley notices I'm off as well and repeatedly asks me what's wrong, but I wave off her concerns the best I can, not feeling like it's my place to tell her Becks' secret when he specifically asked me not to.

I don't have any further one-on-one interactions with Talon the rest of the week either, which I'm not sad about. But even though we never speak, I do catch him staring at me a couple of times from across the courtyard or in the hall as we pass one another. More often than not, the expression on his face is the same, like I'm a puzzle he can't quite solve. But whenever he catches me staring back he throws on a lazy smile or gives me a suggestive wink that makes my face heat, so I look away.

"So, I had an idea," Ensley says, wrenching me out of my own thoughts as we head to the parking lot so she can give me a ride home.

"What's your idea?" I ask, managing to sound way more interested than I actually am.

"Before I tell you, you have to say yes."

"Yeah, that's not how it works," I say on a laugh.

"It does this time." The grin on her face is slightly maniacal. The creepy smile along with the multicolored streaks in her hair today makes her look a touch like a deranged clown.

I shoot her a side-eye look.

"Just promise. Please," she says, drawing out the last word. There's a wild glint in her eyes that tells me she's up to something.

"I promise that I'll seriously consider whatever you are about to say before immediately saying ‘no.'" That's as much as I'm willing to budge. I've known Ensley long enough to know she has a knack for getting me in trouble.

She juts out her lower lip and tips her head down in an impression of a puppy dog pout. "Come on, Locklyn. When was the last time I steered you wrong?"

I snort. "Do you really want me to answer that?" I say, thinking of how just last month she convinced me to skip third period with her to buy the newest version of her phone before they sold out, promising me we wouldn't get caught. Technically, she was right. She didn't get caught. I did. Dean Faust saw me rushing across campus in the middle of a period when I was trying to sneak back. I got a lecture, a call to my parents, and two weeks of weekend detention where they made me scrub the toilets in the boys' bathroom. I still shudder just thinking about what was crusted on that porcelain.

"At least admit your life would be boring without me."

"That, I can agree with." If nothing else, Ensley does keep things exciting.

"Fine," she says on a huff, realizing she's not going to get me to blindly agree with whatever scheme she's cooking up. "But at least hear me out."

"I said I would." Oh boy, this is going to be good .

We stop in front of Ensley's shiny silver sports car and I turn to face her, letting her know she has my attention.

"We should go to the Chaos party this?—"

"Nope," I say, my head shaking before she can get the rest of the sentence out, let alone plead her case.

"Locklyn," Ensley whines, "you promised you'd hear me out."

I fold my arms over my chest, giving her the stink eye.

Chaos is all anyone at Nightlark Academy seems to be able to talk about. I don't for a second think it's real, let alone starting this weekend, but the school is divided. Half the students believe Chaos is actually happening, and the other half don't but are still excited for the kickoff party taking place on Saturday. Either way, whatever is going to go down this weekend is sure to be epic, and I want no part of it. I've never been to a real rager before and have less than zero interest in breaking that longstanding tradition.

"We weren't invited," I say, hoping to throw her off, but she just rolls her eyes.

"Lock, everyone was invited. That's what an open invite means."

Shoot. Good point.

I run my tongue over my bottom lip, trying to think up another plausible excuse that might detour my pushy friend. The gleam in her eyes tells me that's going to be hard. It looks like she's already set her mind on attending, and once Ensley makes up her mind it's near impossible to change it.

"Come on. Becks said he would go," she says, a knowing half-smile curling the corners of her mouth.

That does the job and spikes my interest, but I play it off, not wanting to let Ensley know. "Well, whatever. Becks goes to parties all the time."

"But he said he'd go with us to this one."

Okay, that's new. Becks has never offered to go to a party with me before. Probably because I've always been really vocal about how I'd rather get a tooth pulled than be forced to hang out with our peers from Nightlark outside of school, but it's always secretly bugged me he never at least asked.

"He did?" I say, nibbling a bit on the bait she dangled before me.

She nods. "This is too big to miss, and Becks knows you aren't much for parties and would feel more comfortable attending if the both of us were close by."

Translation: she guilted him into it by saying that I wouldn't go unless he went with us.

My friend is a devious little she-devil sometimes.

A tiny voice whispers in my head that I might not get very many more opportunities to hang out with Becks, but I shake my head. No way am I going to put Becks out like that. I know he enjoys spending time with me, but a party is so not my scene. I'd just ruin it for him if he wants to go.

An image of Becks at a party, with Vesper or one of the other powerful females in our school pawing at him, rises in my mind, making my stomach sour.

"No. I don't want to go."

It doesn't matter what Ensley says. I am not going to that party.