Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Maisie

My flesh flayed off my back and I must have passed out, because I didn’t know when she halted, or when she ordered that I be doused in water to wake me up in time for it to begin again.

I couldn’t stand on my own two feet when it was finished, and though the pack had been brimming with excitement to watch my punishment, they couldn’t bring themselves to look at me when it was over. I guessed the Alpha’s lesson had been passed across successfully.

But it didn’t end at the whipping.

My chores were tripled and I was made to work the entire night, without rest, without help.

For the first time, there was no pain from the bond through the night. I didn’t think I could’ve survived if that was added to the pain I felt whenever I moved.

Still, I was no better when I arrived at school the next day. My head was pounding horribly, and even if it was cold enough to freeze hell over, I was sweating profusely through my clothes.

"You shouldn’t be out of bed, Maisie," Regina said, cupping my forehead. "You’re burning up."

I hissed sharply, cringing at her cold hands. "Don’t touch me."

I carelessly tugged on my Combat uniform over my head and stumbled out of the changing room before Regina would ask to see the wound. I didn’t want anyone’s pity. It was already bad enough that the entire Academy was watching me like I was something fragile, and five different people had walked up to me and asked if they could see my back, like my injury, my pain was something cool to be stared at.

It didn’t help either that it wasn’t healing. Being an Omega meant I healed slower than most, but not nearly as slowly as a human. But my back hadn’t even healed an inch. I could smell the blood on my shirt.

The training hall was filled up when I walked in, and I couldn’t see anything clearly. It was either too bright or too loud. Everything hurt and I felt the churning in my gut as Instructor Warren’s whistle split the air viciously, forcing me to slap a hand over my ears and curl into myself.

"Ms. Adams." My eyelids parted long enough to reveal Mercer, peering down at me with narrowed green eyes.

I glanced up, squinting. He was in an armless black camisole, his grey jacket hanging off one shoulder nonchalantly, his hands rested easily in the pockets of his matching slacks. His skin resembled that of a glazed donut and I felt my stomach cramp, with queasiness, with hunger, I couldn’t tell.

"You reek," he said, nostrils flaring. "Of blood."

I stilled, not wanting to divulge any details of what happened in my private life with him, lest he called me a charity case again. "It’s my time of the month."

Mercer’s ears went red. "Of course."

Around us, every student had fallen in behind their fourth year instructors, who were putting them through different exercises. I caught Jenny and Regina watching me with worry, and I felt Cole’s eyes drilling holes into me, as well.

I might have been hallucinating, but I think the entire hall was watching me and Mercer.

Maybe just Mercer. And his thick arms. And his delicious pecs. And his stupid face.

Mercer glanced down at his cellphone. "Every morning, you must run three laps around the school’s field. It is important to build strength and speed..." Another terrible shiver wracked my body and I lost my balance, colliding with him.

His arm banded around my waist, catching me, and my breath hitched as our chests pressed flushed together. Up close, he smelled...dangerous. Clean sweat, winter air, something darker beneath it that made my wolf stir uneasily.

He frowned. "You look pale."

His thumb brushed lightly against my temple. The touch was gentle. Far gentler than anything Mercer had ever shown me before. Something warm unfurled in my stomach and dipped lower. "Are you ill–"

I shoved him off as more unbearable heat flared under my skin. "I’m fine. Don’t touch me."

Something unreadable flickered in his eyes before he took a huge step away from me, that perpetual, hateful, scowl curling his lip. "Six laps around the hall. Now."

Somehow, I made it through all six laps without collapsing. I wasn’t a terrible runner, but in this state, I was seriously dragging behind.

By the time I made it back to Mercer’s side on the final lap, the entire hall was gathered behind Instructor Warren, who was watching Mercer expectantly. I wiped the sweat off my brow. "What’s happening?"

"Warren wants a demonstration," Mercer said coldly, taking off his camisole, leaving his torso completely bare and I heard wistful sighs behind me. It was mildly distracting, if I was willing to admit it, and I wasn’t. "Take your stance."

"M-my stance?" I stammered.

Mercer walked a circle around me, like he was studying his prey before he pounced. His voice carried well over the hall as he addressed every one. "In a fight, strength is rarely the deciding factor."

He paused behind me. "Faster helps," he continued. "Bigger helps. Stronger certainly helps."

A few quiet chuckles rippled through the crowd.

"But none of that matters if you’re the one bleeding out on the ground." Mercer stepped back into my view, green eyes cool and merciless. "The only thing that matters," he said, "is who walks away."

He stopped directly in front of me, towering above me. His gaze dropped briefly to my shaking hands, the tension in my shoulders, the fatigue I was trying and failing to hide. A cruel smile lifted the corner of his mouth as he looked back at the crowd. "Today, Maisie Adams will demonstrate how an Omega with no strength in her veins can defeat a Lycan ten times stronger and faster than she is."

Knowing Mercer, this was just another way to tie up a loose end. He was probably going to kill me and claim it was an occupational hazard.