21. Theodore Fucking Kane

That night,the Ironside Show shocked everyone by airing a surprise “part two” to the premiere. It focussed mainly on the Alphas and Isobel, and as they sprawled around the common room watching it, it was a struggle not to laugh outright at the officials’ attempt to appease their angry fans.

The episode still heavily featured the humans, building up a narrative that Dorm A and the humans were at war, and they tried to show Isobel with as many different Alphas as they could, playing into the most popular topics online about which of them she might be secretly dating.

They showed Kilian holding her hand, and Niko glowering at her from a distance. They showed Cian leaning toward her over the breakfast table with a devious twinkle in his eye, his tongue poking at his lip piercing … and Niko staring at her from the other end of the table. They showed Oscar glaring at her and Silva like he was planning on tearing off Silva’s arms and using them to slap him all the way back to Dorm B, and they showed Niko turned around in his seat with narrowed eyes, staring at her like Silva—or anyone else for that matter—didn’t even exist. They showed Elijah and Gabriel talking to her during dance practice, grins on their faces and warmth in their eyes, and Niko staring at the back of her head as they walked to dinner. They showed her playfulness with Theodore during the group intensive with Kalen and Mikel … and Niko leaning against the wall on the other side of the room.

Staring at her.

They laughed the whole way through the episode. Even Niko cracked a tired grin, rolling his eyes at the screen.

The fans settled down after the episode aired, most of them deciding that it had been the plan all along to rile people up before dropping the surprise Part Two.

The next day, Kalen announced that Theodore had won the position of lead singer, with Isobel, Kilian, and Cian as the main singing group, and then he introduced their next challenge: to choreograph a dance to Theodore’s version of the song they had been given. Once again, he would be awarding a singular lead dance position and several positions for the main dance group.

Isobel dove head-first into the task, her competitive nature rearing its head as she worked tirelessly on different combinations for the next two weeks. During her vocal sessions with Elijah, she idly danced on the spot until he grabbed her wrists to keep her still. During breakfast, lunch, and dinner, she poured over different sequences inside her head.

The only time she wasn’t thinking about the choreography challenge was when Kalen wrapped her body in rope and lifted her into the air, or the few times Kilian, Cian, or Theodore snuck into her bed.

It wasn’t every night, and she had no idea how the others knew to stay away when one of them had crept into her room, but she would occasionally wake to Kilian hugging her from behind or Theodore climbing over her body in the dark.

One night, Theodore parted her thighs and tasted her until she was dripping enough for him to fuck the screams into her throat. He barely managed to muffle them before he was growling with his own release, his fingers slipping away from her lips.

Kilian was always touching her, and she was always searching for his soft lips, kissing and licking them until his entire body was vibrating and a desperate, gravelled whine was emanating from his body. When he slipped inside her, his rhythm was slower and softer than the first time, and he kissed over every inch of her body until she was just as shaky and desperate as he was, before he spun her suddenly around and drove into her unrelentingly, forcing her to shatter with him.

Cian liked to look at her. He would strip her clothes and shove down the sheets until she was laid out for him and he could trace his tattooed fingers over her body. The first few nights he did it, he wouldn’t let her touch him back. He was too focussed on touching and tasting every inch of skin he could uncover like he was mapping it all out in his head. He quickly learned how to make her gasp, and what made her blush. He always ended up with his head between her thighs and her hands tangling in his golden hair, rasping out his name as he dug his hips into the bed for relief.

The third night he slipped into her bed, she could tell that he had reached his limit, and that was when she found out about the other piercing he had gotten over the summer break. After kissing her hungrily, his fingers shaking as he squeezed her breasts, thrusting against her stomach, he pulled off her and kicked off his boxers, falling to sit against the headboard. He dragged her into his lap, his golden cock stuck between them, a black piercing nestled beneath the flared crown. The two black metal balls glinted at her, pressed perfectly into his skin so that she couldn’t see anything of the bar that connected them.

“You didn’t have that last year,” she said, shocked.

“No,” he said, stroking her face, brushing the hair from her neck. After a moment, his cock twitched and his hand wrapped around her neck, which he had been so gently caressing. “I swear to god, Carter, if my dick isn’t inside you in the next?—”

She quickly pulled up her hips, and he gripped the base of his shaft, lining it up with her entrance as she lowered onto him, both of them groaning in relief. He allowed her to set her own pace for a little while as his hands travelled her body, showing that he had learnt her well … but then his self-control broke, and he tipped her onto her back. He pressed her legs up, weighing them against her chest as his velvety length dipped into her in deep, indulgent strokes, his pace quickening, growing almost brutal until he suddenly released her legs, ducking his head to her nipple and shoving her hand between her legs, encouraging her to touch herself. He bit and licked her breasts until she was flying, a hoarse cry on her lips, and then he followed her over, a low growl torn out of his chest.

Despite the fact that it had proven to clear his head and help their bond, Niko didn’t try to approach her in a sexual manner again, and she was too nervous from his jumpy reactions to make the first move. The others seemed to be giving her space, though she was beginning to feel like a doe being tracked through the woods whenever Oscar turned his eyes on her.

He seemed to be biding his time, waiting for something, wary of something.

Thankfully, she was too absorbed in the task of finalising her dance to worry about Oscar’s plans for her.

When it was finally time for Kalen and Mikel to score their choreography, she felt a little more prepared than she had for the singing task. She was perhaps over-prepared, this time, though it didn’t lessen the pressure on her. The stakes were higher than they had been a few weeks ago, because now the public was invested.

Their first evaluation had aired, with the entire world praising each of them, though especially Theodore. The Ironside fans seemed to agree with Kalen and Mikel’s picks, reasoning that while Moses, Oscar, and Niko all had great all-rounder voices with incredibly unique qualities, they didn’t quite have the control or stability of Theodore, Cian, Kilian, or Isobel.

Isobel didn’t know what to say to that, because she was sure they all had more control and stability than her.

Despite being content with everyone else’s ranking, the fans were quickly and loudly outraged that Elijah and Gabriel were scored on their singing abilities despite clearly being rappers. They demanded Kalen and Mikel give them special roles as rappers, which of course, Kalen and Mikel immediately arranged. It seemed like a strategic move, showing the fans that they had control, that they could influence the show.

It made them feel like they were involved, that they had a stake in the game, that they were almost as much a part of the group as the members of Dorm A themselves.

Kalen and Mikel gave them no time to warm up for the second assessment, but that didn’t bother Isobel. She had skipped lunch to run through her routine one more time while Oscar and Moses fought over the takeaway containers of food they had brought over from the dining hall.

The order of the performances remained the same as their last assessment, with Kilian first, then Cian, Elijah, Gabriel, Niko, Oscar, Moses, Theodore, and Isobel.

The natural dancers in the group became quickly apparent. Elijah, Gabriel, and Kilian danced like it was what they were born to do, every movement in perfect synchronisation with the music, their motions smooth, strong, and powerful. Cian, Oscar, and Moses were less natural. They still managed to create commanding and beautiful choreography, but where the others make it look easy, Cian, Oscar, and Moses put visible effort into their movements. If they had been competing with anyone else, they would have looked perfect.

But they weren’t competing with just anyone.

Niko’s ability was surprising. He just stood there for the first few bars, until he seemed to remember the song—this time, it was layered with Theodore’s vocals from their first assessment. After he recognised it, he began to move, his sequences fluid, expressive, seamless, and graceful. For someone who clearly hadn’t prepared a second of choreography, he barely even needed to think about it. There was a sense of continuity in his choreography, in the subtle nuances and gestures of his body, giving everything a depth and a dialogue that had her leaning forward to examine him closer.

His expressions were subtle, his movements poignant, somehow sultry and smooth while also giving a haunting sense of emotion. He was easily as good as Elijah, who she had decided was the best dancer there …

Until Theodore.

Theodore Fucking Kane stepped up with a carefree grin, tugging at his loose pants as he waited for the music to start, and then he blew her mind all over again. His movements were sharp, remarkably quick and precise, executed with a precision that had taken her years of practise to finesse.

And she had never seen him practise.

Him or Niko.

Theodore’s footwork was intricate, but he made it look easier than walking. He had a very clear natural athleticism—just like Niko—infusing strength into his flow, but he was showing more than just his skill. He was proving that he was an entertainer.

He didn’t analyse his moves in the mirror like he was at practice, as the others had. He stared at the mirror like it was his audience, his natural charisma falling over his body like a cloak. He was the only one who matched the obviously sensual lyrics of the track with a performance that had her cheeks heating. The others had danced like it was an assignment, and Theodore danced like it was a show.

And it worked.

She glared at him when he moved off the stage, and he broke into a devilish grin, swiping his hand through his hair as he tugged at his sweaty shirt.

It was so boyish. So utterly opposite to the raw magnetism he had just been channelling into the mirror.

Why didn’t you tell me you could dance like that?she asked inside his head.

We can all dance, silly. You knew that.

He was completely missing the point, but as she took up her position and watched the Alphas clapping him on the back, she realised that maybe … he didn’t understand the point. He seemed to sing and dance for fun. Perhaps he truly didn’t realise how incredible he was.

She surveyed the Alphas as the track started again, realising the scope of what she was dealing with. They were highly trained, highly focussed—with the exception of Niko, currently—and exceedingly skilled. Even without Theodore, they had a very good chance of succeeding at the game they were playing against the Ironside officials … but with Theodore, they were a sure thing.

Still …

There was always room for improvement, even for these men.

She smiled, and a few brows arched in response.

Except Mikel. His lips stretched out in that crooked smile like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

The track had been playing for almost ten seconds, and she still hadn’t moved. She had missed her mark for the choreography she had slaved over for two weeks, but that was okay. She had designed the choreography to make it accessible so that everyone would be able to do it. She now realised she had been wrong, and this wasn’t about trying to make the group work. The group already worked.

This was about making the group impossibly better.

She began to dance without warning, ditching the style she had practised and diving into her own style, which was a blend of acrobatic strength and lyrical, contemporary moves. The slim window between strength and beauty was where she thrived. It allowed her to be fearless and to still show vulnerability and delicacy. She wasn’t just a dancer because she loved it. She was a dancer because it was all she had ever loved. Before coming to Ironside, dance was the only friend she had. Dance and her mother. And then, for a while, it was dance without her mother.

She had danced her entire life. To forget the pain her father caused, and to escape her small, lonely world. When she danced, she wasn’t a vessel for everyone’s emotions, or a puppet for their manipulations, or a face on a banner, hung in the settlements like an advertisement for the sale of her soul. She was a bird freed from a cage, falling and flying by her own design, creating a story with her body, her face, her eyes, her hands.

Shecould manipulate them. Whoever they were.

It didn’t matter who they were. Because when she was moving like this, she was in control, she was in charge, and they would sit and wait and watch until she had poured out everything inside her and they felt every inch the vessel they had made her feel.

She danced to the very edge of her ability, forcing her body to appear light as a feather, untouchable by gravity, by them, by her past, by whoever tried to grope away at her future.

And then she finished, and they clapped.

It took her a few moments to realise it wasn’t polite clapping.

They were cheering, whistling, and yelling things out, causing a smile to break out over her face.

She did it.

She fucking did it.

After Kalen announcedthat Isobel would be taking the lead dancer position, with Theodore, Niko, and Elijah as the main dance group, it was all on her to choreograph the entire group performance for Elijah’s birthday.

She had a fairly good idea of their skill levels, and it helped when Theodore and Niko joined their dance practises in the early mornings and late evenings. As pissed as she had been that they hadn’t told her how well they could dance, she did understand why they had hidden it from the show.

It would be a fantastic reveal, especially for anyone doubting what kind of performance their group would be able to pull off. But still … she was nervous about their screen time. Since she had been banned from the Ironside Row games every Friday and the Alphas refused to go without her, they were falling behind in popularity points while the humans raked in awards from the games and challenges.

Gabriel was trying to combat it by having someone go live from their bedroom every night. It was something they didn’t have time for, but they didn’t have a choice. When it was Isobel’s turn, she was already running late for her performance at the Stone Dahlia, so she set her phone onto a stand in her bathroom and spoke to her fans while she got ready.

At first, it was awkward. What was she supposed to say? But the comments weren’t being pushy, rude, or invasive. They joked, they chatted, they played, drawing out the mischief that lingered somewhere inside her.

When she tied up her hair, they commented that her new tattoos must represent one heart for every psychopath who had come forward in the media claiming to be her mate, making her laugh out loud.

When she tossed back that they got their wish after all, with a mating mark on her body, but they would have to share with nine other psychopaths, the comment section filled with laughter.

She squinted at the screen when she noticed a familiar username.

LilySquirt: Hi! Carter! It’s me!!

She grinned, notching her elbow onto the countertop and leaning into the camera with a soft smile. “Hi, Lily.”

Lily’s response was almost lost in the flood of comments.

Sato_Stans: Who is Lily???

IronsideInsider: There’s 27,000 people watching, how are we supposed to find Lily?!

The-moses-mafia: I now identify as Lily.

TheRealLily: Hi, it’s me.

Lily92: Me too.

Lily-Confirmed243: It’s meeee.

LilySquirt: Hehehe.

Isobel grinned, pulling away from the camera as the comments rolled on.

She workedon the group choreography for three days and then introduced it to everyone during their unfilmed intensive with Mikel in the morning, while Theodore introduced them to their individual singing and rapping parts. He had recorded base tracks for all of them, proving, infuriatingly, that he could also rap the sequences Elijah and Gabriel had come up with.

It was a long and gruelling day of trying to learn all of their parts, but they paused their intense schedules that night to celebrate Elijah’s birthday, sprawling around the lounge room to have a movie night. It was the first normal moment they had enjoyed in a little while.

Isobel cuddled up with Kilian, who was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself, now that their relationship had changed. Eventually, he huffed out a frustrated sound and slid onto the floor by her legs, pretending like he just wanted to stretch out flat with Moses.

“The weaker surrogate not cutting it?” Oscar asked, sounding bored. He got up and crossed over the bodies strewn across the floor to plop down beside Isobel. He pulled her over his thighs and tugged a fluffy blanket around them, his hand wrapping up her ponytail, using it as a handle to pull her head back and to the side so that he could meet her eyes.

“Better?” he grunted.

He had that look in his eyes again.

A prickle of something predatory, shadowing behind a wall of control as he waited, and waited.

Silently, she nodded, and he released her, sinking back and leaning over the suede arm of the couch to get comfortable, his hips tilting up into her ass as he adjusted himself.

His hand traced up and down her spine as they finished their final movie, and she could still smell his smoking oleander all over her skin when she climbed into bed that night. Her heart was in her throat as she looped the cameras and padded to his room, raising her fist to knock on his door … before lowering it again.

Anxiety swirled inside her stomach.

Approaching Oscar was like approaching a damaged Niko.

She turned on her heel and hurried back to her room, diving onto her bed and resisting the urge to hide under her covers, choosing to drag her tablet into her lap, instead. She snapped up her electronic pencil and tapped into a sketching program, wondering what kind of flowers she could draw Elijah for his birthday.

Finally, she began with a bunch of pristine white roses, the petals shimmering like freshly fallen snow in bright moonlight. She wove delicate little sprigs through the thorny stems in a lattice of tiny, suspended snowflakes, and then threaded through the stems of pale blue hydrangeas. The petals of the hydrangeas were a delicate cluster of points, like ice crystals forming on a winter’s day. To finish off the bouquet, she added in a lush backdrop of pale green eucalyptus stems, the edges of the flat leaves crystallised with a frosted silver.

When it was done, she began to send it to Elijah before pausing and sucking in a fortifying breath. She had already been a coward once that night.

She slipped out of bed and stopped at the room next to her own, raising her fist to knock.

You can do it, she lectured herself. It’s just?—

Elijah yanked open the door, his cool eyes settling on her face. “Came to wish me happy birthday, Isobel?”

She nodded, and he stepped aside, checking his watch as she stepped into his room.

Noticing that she had looped the cameras.

He closed the door and leaned up against it, crossing his arms. “I doubt I’m the reason the cameras are on a loop right now, but his loss is my gain.”

She laughed nervously. “Why are you acting like I just walked into your trap or something?”

His eyes flashed, and he pushed off the door, plucking the tablet out of her hands. “What’s th—” He paused as the screen came to life, showing him the picture with the name she had scrawled at the top.

Elijah.

He raised his eyes slowly. “You drew this for me?”

She nodded. “Happy birthday.”

His smile was slow and sharp, his voice a soft drawl. “Happy birthday indeed.”

His attention dropped back to her tablet as he sent the drawing to his phone, and then he was walking to his bed, setting the tablet on his bedside table. He tilted his head, cool eyes dropping to her sleep shirt.

“Staying or leaving?”

She hesitated, eyeing him the same way he was eyeing her. “To sleep?”

He chuckled, sitting on his bed. He pulled off his shirt, tossing it to an armchair on the other side of his bedside table. “Just to sleep,” he said, unzipping his pants. He lifted his hips, tugged them off, and discarded them to the armchair before sliding back and stretching out on his bed. His tight muscles bunched, his black boxers almost indecently low on his hips as he let out an exhausted groan, his arms folding behind his head.

He looked deliciously dishevelled all of a sudden, and she approached the bed nervously, sitting lightly on the edge of the mattress.

“Lie down,” he crooned, a teasing note in his voice.

She stretched out beside him, her body stiff, her hands folded onto her stomach. He twisted onto his side, and she could feel his gaze on her face, a rumbling laugh threatening the air between them.

“Face me,” he ordered, still in that same soft, teasing tone.

She rolled to her side, freezing when it brought their noses inches apart. He leaned over her, the pale gold skin of his chest in her face as he grabbed his dorm tablet, turning off the lights.

When he settled again, he seemed closer, his breath misting her lips.

“Now wish me a proper happy birthday,” he whispered, gravel in his tone.

Her core pulsed at the rough demand, her thighs pressing tightly together, but her mind spun into a panic. The idea of becoming intimate with Elijah truly terrified her, for some reason.

She just had a feeling that he would break her.

Worse than Kalen, worse than Mikel.

Elijah would shatter her into a million pieces and then grind those shards into the ground with the heel of his boot. While he laughed.

“Just a kiss, sweet girl,” he whispered over her mouth. “I won’t be breaking you tonight.”

She immediately checked her mental wall. It was still in place. He hadn’t read her mind.

Her exhale was a shaky breath, her mind calming.

A kiss she could do.

A kiss was more than she could have hoped Elijah would want from her, in truth. She lifted a hand to his face, softly tracing his sharp, aristocratic cheekbone, his strong nose, his winged brow … his hard lips.

Her breathing sped up, his clove and woodsmoke scent warming and thickening until she was dizzy from it. She pressed her lips to his, kissing him softly. They both breathed in deeply, his chest rattling as she pushed closer, kissing him again, his top lip and then his bottom lip, which she pulled into her mouth, tugging lightly.

He gripped her wrist calmly, pulling it from his face and twisting it behind her back, using that hold to drag her lower body into his. He forced his thigh between hers, notching it right up against her core, and then he took over the kiss, dominating her mouth in slow, drugging strokes of his tongue. He gripped her wrist harder, pressing where he held it against her lower back to force her hips down on his thigh. He sawed his thigh between her legs subtly, only the smallest movement as his kiss slowly hypnotised her. Back and forth, teasing her damp and throbbing flesh through her sleep shorts.

It surprised her to feel the tension building up inside her body, coiling her tighter and tighter, making her desperate for what promised to be a hard and drugging climax. She had never orgasmed from a kiss before.

“Just a kiss,” Elijah whispered against her swollen lips, making it seem like he was reading her mind again, “because when I fuck you, it’ll be because you’re crawling on your knees and begging to be dismantled, head to toe.” He pressed his thigh up tighter to her core, nipping her lips. “Ruined.” He released her wrist and suddenly spun her to face the other way, his hand pushing into her shorts, his erection curving hard and hot against her spine. He shoved two fingers inside her, sending her hurtling over the edge she was hovering over.

“Shattered,” he whispered, nuzzling into the back of her neck, his cock grinding against her through their clothing.

When she blinked herself back to sanity, it was with a soft, surprised cry.

“Go to sleep,” Elijah instructed her, his fingers still hooked deep inside her.

“A-are you …” She closed her eyes, pulling in a shuddering breath as she tightened around his fingers, the aftershocks of her orgasm still rippling through her. “Are you going to k-keep them in there?”

“Yes.” The word was a gravelled purr that travelled all the way through her body, making her ripple and clench around him again.

She thought there was no way she could possibly sleep like that, but when Elijah began to nuzzle her neck again, planting soft, soothing kisses along the line of her bond marks, she found her eyelids growing heavy, her breath beginning to match the measured, deep rise and fall of his chest.

It seemed that somany students and crew had piled onto Alpha Terrace that they simply wouldn’t fit. They were spilling out onto the driveway and landing above, gathering wherever they could find room. Cooper had decided that the theme of the first Dorm A party for the year would be “the last day of summer,” so everyone had turned up in swimwear and coverups, flip-flops, sunglasses, and large, floppy hats. The sun was beginning to set, so some of the hats and sunglasses were coming off, and people were pulling their legs out of the pool.

Cian and Kilian had worked on the outfits they wanted everyone to wear for the first performance, ordering clothes from Market Street during the week. The guys were all wearing tight black jeans and black combat boots, which they had already shown they would be able to dance in during their last practice. They had on black shirts and puffy jackets with a camouflage pattern. Isobel also wore combat boots, her high-waisted parachute pants in a matching camouflage print. Her tight white tank was cinched by a black chest harness, her hair in two long braids over her shoulders.

The military theme was deliberate, of course.

In a way, this was their first official declaration of war, their first true, public act of rebellion.

Mikel and Kalen stepped up to the stage first, and the crowd, who had been busy partying around the pool and the gardens, gradually fell silent.

“Good evening, everyone.” Kalen held a microphone, his calm attention scanning the gathered people. “As you all saw on the Ironside Show, we’ve been putting our Dorm A Alphas and Sigma through a series of tasks, challenging them to bring you a special performance tonight, and I believe we have succeeded in that goal, though, of course … their success is dependent on you, so I’ll let you decide.” He passed the microphone to Mikel, whose deep voice projected over the crowd.

“This song is called Trance. It was written by Moses Kane and Oscar Sato, and was produced by Kalen West and myself. Please welcome to the stage: Eleven.”

Isobel felt her stomach flip as they stepped onto the stage that had been constructed along the back of Alpha Terrace, ignoring the whispers threading through the crowd below. They all had headset microphones strapped to their heads to free up their arms, so none of them spoke as they positioned themselves on the stage, waiting for the music to begin.

The crowd was deadly silent, but the heavy pressure of their silence was shattered by Elijah’s slight chuckle before he kicked off the start of the song, his rapid delivery of the first verse electrifying the air immediately. The backing track had evolved over the past few weeks. It began with a grungy tone, gradually becoming loud, boisterous, and commanding, Elijah’s raspy, fast-paced lines stirring everyone to attention.

Theodore took over the melody, and they fell into their dance routine. Their movements precisely synchronised—it was the one thing Isobel had pushed them for, above all else. She wanted them flawlessly in line, in flow together, despite their varying level of skill.

For the pre-chorus, Cian and Kilian layered their voices over Theodore’s, bringing a haunting and sultry—but somehow still energetic—tone to the lyrics that Moses and Oscar had written. It was a sensual song, even with Elijah’s twisting of the lyrics in the first verse, and Gabriel’s manipulation of them in the bridge. The words they had written were still full of longing, mysterious and eerie at times, persistent and vigorous at other times, the entire song enforced with a stubborn, almost angry backbone that endured through every verse.

Isobel took the chorus, Oscar and Moses texturizing her voice with their lower tones as the routine gained energy, becoming more complex as they switched up their formations, falling back or twisting forward to highlight different members. Theodore and Isobel stayed mostly at the front, as Mikel had decided they had the most endurance to support the rest of the group. They were both able to maintain a steadier control over their voices while they danced through the more complex parts of the choreography, but without the unique timbres, tones, and vocal styles of the other Alphas, it wouldn’t have been as special as it was.

And she knew, as they took a bow, dusted in sweat and panting into the microphones, that it had been special.

She knew, as they stumbled off the stage and the noise from the gathered crowd swelled and rumbled loud enough to make it feel like the ground was shaking, that they had done something.

As they tried to push through the mob of people who were clamouring over each other to get close to the Alphas, Isobel saw that even the crew members who had gathered to record the performance seemed shocked. They were huddled together, protecting their equipment, talking in panicked tones like they didn’t know what to do. As soon as they caught sight of the Alphas and Isobel pushing toward the dorm, they started shouting their names and trying to make their way over.

Once they were inside the dorm, they stood around, shocked by the noise outside, before gradually breaking into nervous, exhausted smiles.

“I swear to all the meanest Gifted gods,” Isobel warned, glancing between their faces, “if you all do another polite clap right now, I’m going to?—”

Niko laughed, cutting her off and drawing a few surprised glances. He seemed … more at ease. Spent, in the best way. He had given it everything, channelling his confusion and torment into energy and that was something she could understand. She grinned at him, and for a moment more, his beautiful hazel eyes were clear as he smiled back.

“Time to review the performance,” Kalen said, arching a brow at them. “Or do you think you’ve made it now?”

Oscar rolled his eyes. “Can we eat first?”

“I’ll order food and drinks from the dining hall,” Mikel offered. “It’s too chaotic to go outside. Everyone shower and meet up in the lounge.”

As Isobel skipped up the stairs, she noticed Cooper slipping into his office, his phone to his ear, speaking hurriedly.

It was nice to see him thrown for a loop.