Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Maisie

The grand hall around us was plunged into a sea of whispers. There was confusion, and grim satisfaction and even pity.

But I hardly registered any of it. There was such silence in my head.

The Queen watched me and there was a shadow of a triumphant smile imprinted there on her face. Tessa’s smile wasn’t too far off.

I have won, after all, her eyes seemed to say to me.

Soren’s voice was silent, yet filled with venom as he finally spoke again, "We should like a moment alone with her, to prepare her for the duel." Then he added with a bow of concession that made his tall frame tremble. "With your permission."

The Lycan Queen waved dismissively. "Go. Do what you must, but do not be late. The Red Moon rises by midnight. Not one minute later."

I was led out of there, but I couldn’t have told you whose fingers were around my wrist, tugging me forward in a rush.

I barely noticed the network of hallways I was dragged along, or the gazes that followed me. I could feel it rising like a tidal wave inside my chest, pushing past the lid of control I had kept over my emotions since tonight went to hell.

And the moment I was led into an enormous bedroom and the door slammed shut behind us with a final echoing click...

The lid blew off. Hard.

They were five feet away from me as I began to hyperventilate, studying me like I was a caged animal about to fight back.

The pounding pulse in my temples threatened to deafen me, while the pressure in the back of my throat became overwhelming.

I was shaking. . . . Now that we were alone, I was going into full-body shock, and I could barely inhale each breath because of the horrible choking sensation, the horrible

pressure in my eyes.

"You had no right." Hiccup. Panic.

I reached up and ripped the tiara from my head, not caring that it tore strands of hair out with it. I hurled it across the room with all my strength. It smashed against the far wall with a satisfying metallic crash. "You had no right!"

The words tore out of me like I was vomiting fire.

"Maisie," Quinlan said, starting forward to touch—touch—me. "We can explain—"

"Don’t touch me!" I shrieked, backing away. "Explain? Explain what?! That you looked me in the eye every day and lied to me?!" My eyes burned as I glanced at Soren. "You told me it was a mistake! I was a mistake!"

Mercer’s green eyes burned into mine as I turned my gaze to him. "You told me it was my fault that I got bitten! You called me a charity case! A miserable, wretched thing like me should at least be grateful—grateful to you—that you gave my sorry excuse of an existence meaning!"

He flinched, but said nothing as I glanced at Jericho, lips curling in a sneer. "What? The concept of my whoring cunt, as you called it, bleeding all over doesn’t disgust you anymore?"

And then, there was Quinlan, standing off to the side with his usual calm mien. "And you—you are just as bad. You stood by. You participated. You deceived me with an act of kindness, while spinning sweet lies to my face. How did it feel, taking advantage of me?"

The words weren’t nearly as coherent as I wanted them to be. I was hiccuping. I could feel the tears pouring down my cheeks and my body shaking hard. "Explain? You lied to me! All you all have ever done is lie to me! And—and hurt me! And now, you’ve taken it twenty thousand steps further and ruined my life!"

"Is it so bad then?" Soren said, eyes unreadable. "Is it so terrible to be mated to us? To be chosen as our Erasthai?"

"It is, if you didn’t ask and I didn’t give my consent! And I would never have given it to the likes of you!"

Soren jaw hardened. "It wouldn’t have mattered. The circumstances were less than ideal to pose the question. Or, I’m sorry, would you have preferred a ring in a glass of wine? Or maybe in a fluffy strawberry cake while you dug around and looked for it? ’Marry us, Maisie Adeline Adams,’ in the school’s hallway with a pretty banner?"

"Soren," Jericho growled. "Don’t be a dick."

Soren ignored him. "The truth is, there was no situation in which your response would have been positive, and there was no time. It would’ve happened whether you wanted it to or not and for this, we will not ask forgiveness."

I was reeling with a mixture of anger and my face went hot. "Of course I would have refused! No woman wants to be with men who treat her like garbage! And these—" I pointed at their marks on my skin. "They means nothing! Nothing! I will never be yours!"

They all flinched.

Soren grinded his jaw. "We did what we had to, Adams, and if we had to make those choices again, we would, in a heartbeat," Soren said. "It was the only way we could save your life—"

"Yes, of course." The anger had boiled to a sharp point and it ripped out of me in a sharp, mad laugh. "Let’s take Maisie Adams, the naive little idiot, and promote her from the title of ’slut’ we’ve bestowed upon her to our personal, royal slut and fuck toy, no? What? Should I strip, get on my knees and express my immense gratitude to turning my life to shit?"

Soren glanced down at the floor by his feet. And the bastard started to consider it.

In the same breath, there was a sudden bulge in his pants and such terrible heat flashed in his violet gaze.

He was thinking about it. No. Here I was, sobbing hysterically, and he was thinking about me on my knees, in front of him. And he was aroused by it.

I stared at him for all of three seconds.

Then my feet clambered against the cold marble. My fingers wrapped tightly around the first thing it could find—a flower vase that was filled with lilies—and I threw it at his head. He caught it with unnerving calm and set it down. "Calm down, Adams—shit."

I had slammed into him and we collided with the bedframe and into the bed. A strong arm banded around my waist, prying me off him, but I wrenched myself free at the last second and slammed my fist into his perfect face. "I’m going to kill you, you sick fuck!"