Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

"Let me go," I said, but his breath was hot on my neck and he felt so warm, so good, I wanted to lean back against his heat.

Sweat broke against my skin as I struggled against the basest nature to give in to his Alpha authority, to lower my head and bow and kiss his feet if he wanted me to.

Goddess. What was I thinking?

His knee shoved between my legs, pressing me harder into the wall. "Last I checked, you were my mate. I get to touch you however, whenever I please because you belong to me. Which means no one else gets to. Not even the dumb blonde you were dancing with. I don’t fucking share."

His breath smelled heavily of alcohol. He was as drunk as I was. Maybe more.

"We’re nothing to each other," I snarled. "You rejected me. Who I speak to, who I dance with, and who I plan to spend my night with is none of your business."

"It became my business the moment you let him put his hands on you, Maisie."

My name rolled from his lips like a purr. I felt a shiver run down my spine. The first time he’d ever called my name was to reject me. Now, it felt intimate in a way that felt like sin.

I hated it. That even if my belly was ridden with bruises, even if all he caused me was pain, he still made my stomach cramp with useless butterflies and made my wolf purr with want.

"I’m going to scream so loud, I’ll blow your eardrums off if you don’t get your filthy hands off me right now—"

He clamped a hand over my mouth. "I did like you better with your mouth shut."

My eyes widened as something hard suddenly poked against my ass.

Oh my god, is that what I think it is?

"Did you wear this for me?" he said roughly, pressing his nose into my hair, sniffing, nuzzling. "Did you get all dressed up to get my attention? To change my mind? I’ll admit, it was rather short sighted of me to reject you without feeling you out."

His free hand strayed. They burned as they slid across my waist. And higher. Dangerously close to the under curve of my breast. "The thing with girls like you, Maisie, is that you think all you need to fix to be picked is your appearance. I don’t doubt that you’d make a great fuck, but you’ll never be the type of woman men want to keep. The kind to be made Luna. You’re the kind that’s only good enough to fuck, but never good enough to be chosen."

By some divine intervention, my brain short-circuited and my body moved on pure adrenaline.

It should’ve been impossible to achieve. Omegas might’ve the capacity to feel angry, hateful, but it was hardwired into us to never, ever, act against our Alphas. Not to speak of hurting them.

Cole Hayes wasn’t Alpha yet, but his aura was staggering near my non-existent one.

But I was angry enough. I had been angry for days.

I slammed my head back and it smashed into his perfect, pretty nose. Finally free, I whirled.

And punched him.

I’d never punched someone in my life. The sound of bone crunching made my body tremble and I knew I had done something terribly wrong when blood began dripping down his nose.

Cole Hayes blinked as if confused. He touched his nose and it came away red. It dawned on me that he’d probably never been hit in his life. Because he did all the hitting.

He stared at me with parted lips. Then he let out a dark laugh that raked along my skin like silk, his tongue flicking out to wipe off the blood. "You shouldn’t have done that."

I should’ve kept my mouth shut. I had committed a crime that could get me thrown out of the pack. But I had a habit of running it when I was scared. "How’s this for an answer, Fuck. You."

Faster than I could detect or follow, he moved and slammed his lips into mine.

My brain was still catching up when my body made the decision without it.

It had to be the bond because there was no version of me that wanted this, no sane, rational part of me that would choose him, and yet my hands were already moving to his chest and I was already leaning in and my wolf was surging forward like she’d been waiting for exactly this, clawing toward the surface with a desperation as she took control of us.

Sparks ignited the moment his mouth covered mine and the sound I made was embarrassing and involuntary and swallowed immediately by him like he’d been waiting for it. Like he knew. His hand came up and gripped my jaw, tilting my face exactly where he wanted it, and the possessiveness of it should have made me furious.

It did make me furious.

It also made my knees turn to jelly.

He kissed me like he was trying to prove something. Deep and slow and unbearably thorough, one hand gripping my waist and hauling me flush against him until there was no space left between us, until I could feel every solid inch of him against every traitorous inch of me, and our bodies slotted together with a rightness so infuriating I could have screamed.

This is wrong, some distant, shrinking part of me insisted.

The rest of me had stopped listening to that part entirely.

His hand dragged up my side, fingers skimming the curve of my waist, my ribs, the side of my breast then back down to grip my thigh, pulling it up around his hip in a way that was deeply, catastrophically hot.

His other hand fisted in my hair, holding my head still while he took his time with my mouth like he had all the time in the world and he intended to use every second of it.