Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Chapter 132: 132. Pants In A Twist

Maisie

There was an odd hostility in the kitchen this morning between the Lycans.

I watched as Violette perked cheerfully about Quinlan taking me to see the city today before our inevitable flight back to court tomorrow—I wasn’t looking forward to that bit—and Quinlan only let out a sour grumble, poking sullenly at his bowl.

Jericho, though, seemed to be in the best mood, pushing a plate of expertly sliced meat in my direction. "Here. Have some more."

My memories from last night were a little murky, but I remembered enough to flush a bright red when he kissed my cheek.

Mercer was staring hard. Glaring, really, and I had no idea what the pissing contest was about, but the testosterone in the air was a bit too much for me.

Only, it worsened when I ate what Jericho had offered to me. The air grew oppressive and I could barely get any of it down without downing in the cup of orange juice he offered me, before slipping out of the kitchen in his running shorts, flashing Soren a little wink.

I began wondering what that was all about when I noticed Soren’s frown had deepened.

He looked like he wanted to stab Jericho. And maybe me too. I felt a mix of chaotic emotions through the bond, none of which lasted long enough to make sense before they slammed up their walls.

Quinlan took his bowl of cereal, scowling, before stomping out. Mercer growled under his breath, took a bottle of water and stormed out for a jog. Soren frowned at my full mouth as I chewed, and without warning, tipped over my glass of juice.

I gasped as it poured all over my shirt and the glass shattered on the floor. "Okay, what the hell is your problem?!" I yelled at his back, and then felt bad for yelling when I saw the wound that had healed over to form a rough scar that had healed, but took on a silver-grey sheen along the length of his back.

Violette appeared with a rueful smile, eyes twinkling as she handed me a towel to wipe off. "You picked favorites, that’s what got their pants in a twist."

I frowned, cleaning up. "I did?"

I didn’t remember doing that. I didn’t even remember speaking words during the act last night. The only flash of images I was awarded was my fingers around Jericho’s well... you know.

Violette snorted. "Might not look like it, but there’s a hierarchical level between mates. They like to ignore it and act like it doesn’t exist. Picking favorites lays it all in the open." She flipped the skillet. "Do you know what it means when a Lycan female has favorites, amore?"

I shook my head, noting Camille’s scowl as she grabbed the broom to clean the mess all over the floors. I felt guilty and muttered a tiny, "Sorry," but her scowl only deepened into a sneer, like she thought I was making her clean on purpose.

"In the ancient times, when Kings had harems, his concubines would fight for his attention, so as not to get forgotten, or blend into the background. Having the kings favors came with benefits, and being the King’s favorite meant he spent more time in your bed than he did in anyone else’s. Sometimes weeks. Sometimes months. Sometimes years. Until he lost interest. Of course, there were some who still dallied with the rest of their harems, somehow managing not to neglect any of their wives, but if you are able to make a king choose you as his favorite, the chances he attends someone else during that time is extremely low."

My heart skipped. "You’re saying... they’re acting up because they think me and Jericho... er... that I want him in my bed all the time? But we’re not even—we don’t—we didn’t—"

"Well, you both weren’t exactly quiet last night."

I turned red all over again.

I couldn’t believe I was having sex talk with Quinlan’s mother. It should’ve been awkward, but Violette made it easy to speak to her. I thought I was going to miss her.

Her eyes lowered and she grinned at the half-eaten plate of steak. "That might’ve been the other issue."

I blinked fast. "What?"

"The food, amore. You accepted and ate what he gave you." She laughed at my blank look. "I suppose you are not familiar with the rules enough. Every male animal out there goes hunting for game for his mate, to feed her, right before they mate. It’s like foreplay."

I choked on a breath, the food turning to lead in my stomach. Hadn’t that been in the book of rules? I’d completely forgotten about that. Way to go, Maisie.

My fingers fiddled with the hem of my shirt as I worried. This was an entire mess. How did I go from dictating and drawing a clear line between us to... this? This entire trip had been a terrible idea for me. I’d simply found myself back where I started, after working so hard to define us.

No matter. I would simply have to draw the lines again.

"Oh, don’t look so glum," Violette said, hooking her arm through mine. "There’s nothing like a healthy bit of competition between men vying for your attention."

*****

"I absolutely do not consent to this!" I screamed.

A helmet was shoved over my head and Jericho obsessively checked the equipment for the umpteenth time.

"Don’t be scared, cherie. On the bright side, if you fall, you’ll only break a few bones," Quinlan grinned.

"I’m going to kill you all and feed you to the fishes if I die," I snarled at them, body trembling.

It didn’t matter if Mercer was getting strapped in with me. I was scared out of my mind, clutching onto him for dear life.

When Quinlan asked me what I wanted to do today, I said ’something exciting’. I also mentioned walking in the park. I mentioned a whole bunch of stuff in excitement. Things I’d never gotten to experience and had often grown excited at the thought of as a child. Should’ve known the wicked grin tilting on Soren’s lips would eventually lead me here. At the edge of a cliff, being strapped to a freaking zip line.

It wasn’t until I got to the very edge of the cliff and examined the height that I changed my mind. They’d been calling me a chicken ever since.

"Relax, Adams," Mercer muttered against my ear. "I won’t let you fall." His lips tipped. "I think."

I opened my mouth to retort when the ground suddenly disappeared from under me. My scream echoed off the cliff as I launched myself at Mercer, burying my face in his shoulder as I hit an octave I didn’t think myself capable of.

Would’ve made for perfect opera.

An hour later, I was in the park, being bribed with the largest cone of ice-cream I had ever seen, strawberry and chocolate swirled with caramel. The Lycans watched with varying degrees of horror as I licked it happily, chocolate dripping down my fingers.

Mercer’s left eye twitched. "That can’t be healthy."

"Neither is your personality."

Quinlan choked on a laugh.

Soren’s lips twitched and I ignored them, grinning wildly as I walked through the crowd of humans, feeling an odd sense of freedom, even if the Lycans dragged behind me like four sullen bodyguards, scanning the public like they kept expecting one of the humans to dump a bag over my head and kidnap me.

But all it did was lend me a sense of comfort, knowing they were close by.

When a little boy who couldn’t have been older than four years old, came to me with big, brown eyes, handing me a rose from his mother’s stall with the word, "Pretty. Like a fairy," I leaned over and kissed both his cheeks.

Soren growled irritably, scaring the boy away. Even the pigeons fled at the low rumbled.

"What is wrong with you?" I demanded. "It wouldn’t kill you to be nice, you know."

He stalked off, muttering something else I didn’t catch under his breath, and when he returned a few minutes later he returned carrying a bouquet so large I briefly lost sight of his face behind it.

Women all around us immediately began cooing.

One elderly lady clutched her chest.

"Oh, young love."

Soren and I turned red as I accepted them from him. Then I felt the intense burn of a glare on the side of my face, lifting my head to find Soren intense stare.

"What?" I asked.

"You’re not going to kiss my cheeks, too? I bet if it was Jericho, you would."

Jericho huffed and took my shoulders, guiding me elsewhere to a shop filled with mouthwatering pastries of different kinds.

And when I couldn’t eat anymore, I emptied out Quinlan’s wallet, dropping bills into the stash of musicians on the streets and he cussed under his breath when I handed a stack to a homeless man who tried to rob me in return.

"You have to be more careful, cherie," Quinlan sulked, his arm around my midriff like a vice as he dragged me back, towards the car.

"How was I supposed to know he had a knife? He looked harmless!" I argued.

"You clearly have no sense of danger," Mercer muttered, slipping into the backseat with me as Soren got into the driver’s seat.

Frowning, I glanced ahead. "Well, where are we going next?"

Jericho groaned.

Mercer swore.

Soren pinched the bridge of his nose.

Which meant whatever Quinlan was about to say was going to be a problem.

Quinlan’s grin widened.

"The club."

"Oh no."

"Oh yes."