Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 107

Chapter 107: 107. Terms & Conditions IV

Soren

And so it began.

"Since living together is a non-negotiable, I want an amendment to the sleeping arrangements. I want my bedroom—actually, I want my own wing," she said. "I want my own entrance."

"What the hell for?" Mercer and Quinlan growled.

"So I don’t accidentally bump into any of you and have my day ruined. I want a line of demarcation in the house, so we all understand where our respective spaces are. Add half the kitchen to that list. And the gym. Oh, and the pool, too."

"That is ridiculous," Jericho said.

Maisie smiled again. "Then divorce me."

Begrudgingly, we amended that, too.

"I will come and go as I please," she said.

"No," we said in unison.

Her blue eyes crinkled. "Then divorce me."

My left eye twitched in annoyance. I was an idiot. A complete retard for leaving the contract open for negotiations. I was trying to be a fucking gentleman. Look where it got us. In hell.

From now on, I was sticking to my stellar reputation of being an asshole. Playing matyr hadn’t been working in my favour of late. And I still hadn’t forgiven her for choosing Jericho as her first. I was sure the bastard did or said something to manipulate the situation.

"There will be no tracking devices," Maisie continued. "No personal guards. You do not control my whereabouts and starting this instant, you will pull off the guards you have tailing me."

My thumb ran over my bottom lip. "That is also a non-negotiable. Every royal is entitled to security. Especially a female. If you do not want the guards tailing you, then you must be with at least one of us at every point you leave the house."

She thought about it for a moment. "I’ll take the guards. But I do not take permission from you before going anywhere. Neither do I report my comings and goings to you."

Quinn started, "But—"

"If you have a problem with that, then divorce me. I’m sure Tessa would love the opportunity to be your trophy wife," she drawled.

We stopped arguing.

"I wear whatever I want. You do not make decisions on what I do with my body. And this includes decorative decisions." She added with a straight face, even if we all knew she was bluffing, "Nipple piercings. Nose piercings. Clit piercings. Or a tattoo of another man’s face stamped on my ass. If I decide to shave my head and dye what’s left pink, I do that too."

Mercer rubbed a hand down his face. "You’re not shaving your head."

Maisie smiled. "Then divorce me."

Irritation flooded me. The only thing she was getting stamped on her ass was my handprint. But I said nothing, eager to see where the fuck she was going with all of this shit.

Quinn smirked. "I wouldn’t mind the piercings. It’d make it easier to discover what kinks you’re into."

The lawyers were blushing again. Maisie’s expression remained stoic.

"Another non-negotiable," Mercer said. "If my mother thinks this marriage is a sham, there are fifty others she can hand you off to. Or she might order that a fifth or sixth be added to your harem to boost intimacy. Chances are, they will not be as understanding as we are."

And so for the next hour, we continued, back and forth, and more often than not, the demands always ended with, "Divorce me then."

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