Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 113

Chapter 113: 113. Back To School IV

Maisie

I felt it.

Searing pain exploded across my back as if the ash had hit me too, the bond carried every ounce of his hurt straight into me.

Soren sucked in a pained breath through his teeth and his forehead fell against mine as his shoulder—his burning shoulder—curved inward. "Seriously, Adams. We only let you out of our sight for five seconds. You are," another pained grunt. "—a walking hazard."

I stared at Soren’s face above mine. My head went very quiet. I looked at Cole. At his green eyes wide with horror as he stared at Soren’s back. At his trembling hands as the Lycans closed in on him.

Reid and Tucker and a few other faces blurred in my vision as they formed a protective line around him. On one hand, there were the wolves. On the other hand, there were Lycans.

This was it. The thing that started wars that lasted for centuries. That tipping point in the scale.

It wasn’t Mercer that tipped things over the edge. It wasn’t Jericho. Or Quinlan.

I moved.

Rage was often described as a brief moment of insanity. But I didn’t feel insane. The truth is, I’d never thought as clearly as I did in that moment. I had one aim. One objective.

I was going to kill Cole. He’d touched something that belonged to me. Everything went red. Everything else was registered as a body of warmth and my Lycan tunnel visioned on a single target. And went for it.

One moment I was being shielded into the wall, and the next, I was breaking past that line. That flimsy line.

There were familiar faces I had grown up with in the pack. Faces from high school. There was a teacher. Maybe three.

Bodies, my Lycan thought. Bodies.

My fist swung and someone cried out. Reid. And I broke something. Broke someone’s arm. Everything seemed breakable. Bloodlust wrapped around my throat like a vice.

Tucker was grabbing Cole and pushing him back. He was too slow.

Tucker had one single moment of fear stricken on his face, before the back of my hand slammed across his cheek and he went flying out of my way.

And then, there was Cole.

"I-I didn’t fucking know it would do that," he said, body trembling. Through that merciless, unyielding rage, it sounded like he was speaking from a place so far away. I’d already decided he was a dead man.

My fingers caught his collar as he tried to shuffle back, and then, I was on him.

I thought I should snap his neck. Rip his head off. Rip out his heart. But it was too quick. The pain I felt intimately like mine was burning inside me and I needed him to feel every ounce of it.

No one touched what was mine. No one hurt them. Only I had the right to do that.

Cole thrashed under me, trying to throw me off him. He grabbed my shoulder. I took that arm and snapped it. He roared, bucking his hip, rolling to the left. I punched him in the face. He jammed his knee up. I punched him in the face again. Blood splattered from his shattered nose and busted lip.

Cole flipped us. I gripped his stupid blonde hair and flung him off me. He crashed into the wall and I was instantly there, picking him off the floor, and I could hear his hammering heart. Claws burst out from under my nails to tear it out.

An arm wrapped around my waist. Another caught my wrist gently. I pushed back, but he didn’t let go. "It’s okay," the male voice said. "Let him go, malyshka. You are not a murderer."

Jericho.

His voice was calm and steady, teasing my ear. It was mildly distracting. I ignored him, wrestling for control.

"Blood sticks," he murmured against my neck, voice low enough that only I could hear. "Once you cross that line, it never washes off. He’s not worth becoming someone you’ll hate looking at in the mirror."

I struggled against him, still seeing red, still wanting to tear Cole apart.

But Jericho didn’t let go. Slowly, the red receded. My fingers loosened and Cole fell, nursing his broken arm, eyes blazing with that hate as he scrambled away.

Tucker was on the ground nearby, clutching a clearly broken arm, staring at me in horror. Reid was leaning against the lockers, blood trickling from his mouth, looking at me like I was something abominable.

My stomach dropped.

Cole spat out a mouthful of blood. "Crazy bitch."

A snarl climbed up my throat and I started to lunge for him again when I felt a new presence in the hallway.

Not one. Three. Heavy and dominant, not bothering at all to put a damper on themselves and all that power. One in particular stretches around me in an almost familiar yet hostile manner, and Jericho stiffened, shoving me back so fast, I slammed into someone else’s chest.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Quinlan snarled. I couldn’t see anything past their tall shoulders and the wall they had formed around me.

And when the voice rolled through the hall way, rough like the jagged edges of rocks, I stiffened.

"What does it look like, cupcake? We go here."

"Costa Ridge is all the way on the other side of the city, and last I checked, Ashbourne is my city," Soren said, voice heated, and you wouldn’t have known he was hurt if you weren’t staring at his ruined back. Or his extremely pale complexion.

My other half-brother. Oh goddess. It had never occurred to me before that I might’ve had other siblings, apart from Lana and Kisten.

Cole stumbled backward until he was practically hiding behind them. My stomach twisted. Had he actually gone to them? Formed some kind of desperate alliance out of spite because the Lycans had taken me from him?

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