6. Maven

I look awayfrom the immortal monsters and find that Silas and Baelfire have returned to consuming me with their eyes. Once again, it"s inconvenient how much I enjoy that they obviously like what they see.

I"ve never had much reason to care about the way I look. Survival always came first. I didn"t even see my own reflection until I was ten years old and caught a glimpse of what I looked like in a murky forest pond…right before someone tried to drown me in it.

All this to say, it"s nice to feel pretty.

But I"m still determined to get over these gorgeous assholes, so I step backward to get out from between them—but cool hands gently grasp my bare shoulders from behind.

"Watch where you're going, Oakley," Everett says, his quiet voice almost lost to the music that has resumed.

I step away from the white-haired professor—though right now, he"s not dressed like a professor at all. He"s in a sharp, perfectly tailored dark blue suit that would make any fashion photographer cry tears of joy.

What a shame that someone so beautiful is an asshole.

The last time we spoke, he hurt me on purpose. I realize that now. He was intentionally hostile, pushing me away and trying to make me hate him and the others.

And it worked. It stings, knowing they made a game out of fucking me.

I"m prepared to meet his cold, aloof stare, but when our gazes clash, I frown. It"s difficult to make out in this lighting, but…is he blushing as his gaze sweeps over me?

"Get lost, Snowflake," Baelfire growls, moving to my side again as he glowers at the elemental. "I"m about to dance with my mate, and I don"t need you fucking this up, too."

Anyone who expects me to dance is fucking delusional. I"ve never danced a day in my life. I wouldn"t even know where to begin.

Everett adjusts his cufflinks. Three times. "Believe me, I don"t plan on sticking around. But all five of us need to pick an emphasis for me to report to Gibbons." He pauses. "Where"s Crypt?"

"Probably avoiding Daddy Dearest," Baelfire grunts.

That piques my interest enough that I tip my head. "Is Crypt scared of Somnus?"

He snorts. "Nah, that psychopath doesn"t feel anything. He should be scared of Somnus, but instead, he riles him up if they"re ever around each other. It"s a huge pain in the ass—gets other people killed most of the time. The Legacy Council tried to enforce a restraining order to keep them out of the same room, but that didn't do shit."

I absorb that as I glance absentmindedly at Everett. Immediately, he looks down to fix his cufflinks again, obviously to avoid meeting my gaze. He wants nothing to do with me, and that sends another inexplicable pang of hurt through my hollow chest.

I force myself to shove down any emotion and focus on what"s important.

"Tell Gibbons that our quintet emphasis will be combat."

They all stare at me. Silas looks like he wants to pry my head open and read my thoughts.

"Our quintet emphasis?" he says slowly.

"As in, you"re finally admitting we"re a quintet?" Baelfire jumps in to clarify, hopeful excitement brightening his face and bringing out his blinding smile. "You"ll forgive us for acting like a bunch of stupid, immature fledglings and be our keeper?"

I need to blend in with the rest of the students here at Everbound. If that means training and taking classes with the four legacies who made me feel incredible right before they made me feel like shit, I"ll endure it.

But I need to draw some hard boundaries first.

"Forgive, no. But I"ll be your platonic keeper. For now."

Baelfire"s face falls. "Come on, Boo-tiful?—"

Boo-tiful?Okay, fuck no. Time to nip that one in the bud.

I hold up a hand to cut him off. "I"m vetoing that nickname."

"Okay, Boo?—"

"That one is out now, too. In fact, don"t give me any fucking nicknames. Including any in fae," I add, glaring at Silas.

His ruby gaze narrows. "Speaking of which, how are you so fluent in fae? Even your accent is impressive."

Lillian was once married to a fae, and their language was all she spoke for years before I met her. When I was growing up, she was the only living person I saw for weeks on end. She tried to help ease my isolation by telling me all about her past fae family, sharing their culture, and teaching me their language. We spoke English and fae interchangeably.

But Silas doesn"t need to know that or anything else about me, so I offer no answer. "Back to the topic at hand. Combat."

"No, the topic at hand is the fact that you think we"ll be fucking platonic," Baelfire grits out. "No way in hell is that happening."

"Lots of quintets are platonic."

"Not ours. You"re my mate. I won"t accept platonic anything with you."

I look heavenward, wondering if the gods are enjoying this shitshow they"re putting me through. They"re probably all laughing their godly asses off.

"For the last time, I am not your mate."

He growls and grasps my arm, pulling me closer to him and ignoring Silas"s warning scowl. There"s a wild, animalistic gleam in Baelfire"s golden eyes that I"ve never seen before.

"Yes, you are. You"re mine, and I"m yours—end of the motherfucking story. The end. Get over it."

Excuse me?

I yank my arm away and give him my finely tuned death stare, slipping into the lethal tone I rarely have to use.

"Rephrase that."

Baelfire"s glower softens. He blows out a breath and rubs his face. "Shit. I"m sorry. Fuck, I didn"t mean to be so…I"m just…"

"Manic?"

He grimaces. "My dragon is a Grade A alphahole, and he"s got one clawed hand on the wheel right now. Believe it or not, his temper is even worse than mine. Having you in this crowded-ass room without my mark or scent on you is already driving me up the wall—this is just making it worse. I am not getting fucking friend-zoned by my mate."

"You"re not," I agree. "Because we"re not friends. We"ll be work acquaintances."

Silas pierces me with a stare. "I"ve been balls deep in your perfect pussy, and we"ve all heard the delicious little sounds you make when you come. This will be no acquaintanceship, not when we all crave you so ardently."

Warmth prickles my neck and cheeks, but so does anger as I regard him. "Oh, I"m hardly what you were craving. Tell me, what prize did you win for being the first to screw me?"

"He"s not claiming any prize," Baelfire says vehemently. "We"re dropping the?—"

"Dragon scales," Silas concedes. "And access to Frost ledgers."

Everett stiffens before glaring daggers at Silas. Baelfire looks equally put off. They each look as if they"re about to rip him a new asshole, but we"re interrupted by an all-male quintet approaching. All five of them have their heads held high as they face off with us, and the one I assume is their keeper greets us with a fake smile. His buzzed hair shows off his tiger-stripe-tattooed scalp.

"So this is the jackpot quintet, huh? I bet you guys will have the top ranking at the beginning since most of you are somewhat impressive." He nods with something like respect to Baelfire before looking pointedly at me, his green eyes turning mocking. "But a quintet is only as strong as its keeper. So, as far as I"m concerned, I"m looking at the weakest quintet in this room. Watch out, Oakley. They can"t protect you forever."

Baelfire snarls, but I hold up a hand to stop him as I hold the rival keeper's glare, arching my brow.

"Watch out? That"s all you"ve got? Let"s hope your bite is worse than your bark because that was pitiful. I"d feel embarrassed for you, but that would be a waste of my time. Run along, Stripes."

Now he"s pissed as he bares his teeth and steps forward, but to my surprise, Everett also steps up until they"re nose-to-nose. I"ve never thought the professor seemed intimidating, but the penetrating stare-down he gives the other keeper has goosebumps prickling over my arms.

It"s the same kind of thousand-yard stare I acquired through years of terror and terrorizing. I wonder how he acquired his.

"Brooks," one of the other quintet"s legacies hisses. "Let's not get on this professor's bad side. Come on."

Stripes, who is apparently Brooks, casts me one last scowl before he and his posse move on. The moment they do, the tension left behind only grows.

"I"m not giving you a single fucking scale," Baelfire snaps at Silas.

"And forget about the ledgers," Everett adds. "My father would have you killed if he knew you even asked."

"Who cares about your stupid father?" Baelfire huffs. "We"re not paying up because the bet was a bullshit idea from the beginning, and we"re dropping it. End of discussion."

Silas scoffs. "Of course you"re bitter. Decimuses always have to be the best. You just can"t bear losing."

"I didn"t lose. We were all in that bed."

Yikes.

"And yet I was the only one in her. Like it or not, I won fair and square?—"

Okay, fuck this.

Deciding to ditch the four assholes who I was stupid enough to catch feelings for before getting stabbed through the chest with a dose of reality, I turn and march through the crowd of mingling, chattering legacies.

The hurt I"ve felt since learning about their wager to fuck me simmers under my skin. It"s irritating to know that all those stupid feelings I fought so hard were one-sided. They were only motivated to be with me for the sake of their fucking egos.

I want to repay how they made me feel. I want to punish them.

Reaching the relatively uncrowded bar, I glance around. The few legacies mingling here seem to be having a great time, though some eyeball me. When I notice a handsome, dark-skinned siren leaning against the bar, checking me out with a drink in his hand, I approach him.

I"ve never tried to flirt before. Sweeping my gaze over his tall form, I try to simulate Kenzie"s carefree, flirtatious smile. I"m pretty sure it looks deranged instead, but I'm working with what I've got.

"Hi."

Yes, hi. That"s the best I have in this department.

How bleak.

But his face splits into a grin. In this dim lighting, I can just make out that his pupils are round, an assurance that he"s not the changeling I"m looking for.

"Damn, you"re hot tonight. I probably shouldn"t say that when you"ve got a quintet of your own panting after you, though, huh?"

"We"re platonic."

He sets down his drink while eye-fucking me. "Really? In that case, can I get you a drink?"

"Only if it"s strong."

I haven"t imbibed very often in my life. Probably because by the time Lillian decreed that I was old enough for alcohol, I had already become this and discovered that it takes a ridiculous amount of booze to feel even the slightest bit tipsy. Hence why Silas"s fae mead didn"t demolish my stomach.

Stop thinking about him.

The siren steps nearer to hand me the drink from the bartender, and I try to ignore how my body rebels against the idea of getting any closer. My nervous system breaks out into metaphorical hives when I picture touching him.

But I"m genuinely curious about what things I might enjoy if I can just get over my stupid conditioning. Once I"m over this hurdle, maybe I can learn to actually enjoy physical pleasure so I can get more of those fantastic orgasms.

And since I"m going to keep things platonic with my damned quintet, I might as well force myself to give it a try with someone I find passably attractive.

Someone like this guy.

"Care to dance?" he asks in his rich, lilting siren"s voice.

"Depends." Battling internal horror, I reach out with my free hand to straighten his bowtie, trailing my fingers briefly over his shoulder. "Will this dance lead to something more…fun?"

"It will if I have any say in it."

He covers my lace-gloved hand with his, and even though I try to hide it, needles of hysteria scatter through every inch of me. And it"s not just my customary panic because of someone else touching me—it"s mixed with a surprising aversion to touching anyone who isn"t…them.

It just feels wrong.

And not in the good way.

I pull my hand away, reminding myself to breathe as I drink the too-sugary cocktail. Touching this guy more tonight is officially out of the question, but still…I don"t have to get touchy to flirt. Maybe if I get used to him over time, my body won"t freak out so much.

The siren hasn"t noticed my inner struggle. He"s all smiles as he says, "Actually, what are you doing after this? Collins invited me to a secret orgy in his dorm. It"s a pretty fucking exclusive group going tonight, but I bet he"ll let it slide if I bring you. I mean, everyone is talking about the mysterious Maven Oakley. If you"re platonic with your quintet, why not come and have fun? I"ll make sure you enjoy yourself. And I know I"m not the only unmatched dude who"s dying for a shot at your ass?—"

Ice seals his lips together. Frozen crystals bloom all over his dark skin and clothing, sealing together and thickening until less than a blink of an eye later, I"m staring at a siren frozen in place like a statue. His faint, muffled grunts of panic at his inability to move show that he can still breathe through his nostrils.

I"m abruptly so cold that I'm sure my nipples will show since I opted not to wear a bra. With all this chill, I"m not surprised when I hear Everett"s voice directly behind me.

"Enjoying yourself, Oakley?"

His voice is easygoing, as if he"s perfectly unbothered. Yet when I turn around with my poker face intact, his jaw is clenched, a muscle ticking.

It"s satisfying to get a reaction out of him. I decide to push it further.

"I was until you interrupted my first choice for getting laid tonight. Kindly unfreeze him."

The professor"s gaze drops briefly, and this time, I know I"m not imagining the way his cheekbones darken when he notices my hard nipples through my dress.

"I saw you touch him. That"s not happening ever again."

"Why the fuck do you even care?"

"I don"t," he says at once. "I was just…concerned. Just like any elemental would be for their gods-given match. Don"t mistake it for caring."

My chest hurts, and I"m starting to lose my patience and my temper. I step closer to him, looking up into his pale blue eyes so I won"t be mistaken.

"I need you to do something for me."

All of Everett's anger seems to liquefy at my proximity, and the temperature around us returns to normal. His eyes study mine fervently.

"Anything," he whispers, his tone nearly throwing me off because it"s bizarrely soft.

I give him a saccharine smile. "Take your concern and shove it up your ass so your head can have some company."

He wilts. And this time, his reaction is somehow not as satisfying. I don"t know the reason for that, but before either of us can say anything else, Baelfire plants a hand on Everett"s shoulder and shoves him away from me with a growl.

"Get the fuck away from her, asshole. She wants nothing to do with you."

Everett lifts his chin, donning his characteristic aloof sneer. "She wants nothing to do with any of us, which is why she was all over that siren."

All overis an exaggeration, but I don"t bother correcting him when Baelfire"s nostrils flare and Silas looks equally pissed off.

I should leave them and look for the changeling since I don"t know how long the Matched Ball will last. But this tiny, petty form of revenge is too wickedly entertaining to stop now.