Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 14

Chapter 14: 14. Be My Mistress

The glass of wine splashed across my face, spilling down the front of my uniform.

The entire diner went quiet.

I just couldn’t seem to catch a break. You would think beating me to a pulp yesterday was more than enough entertainment for Lana, but it clearly wasn’t. Considering she brought her entire cabal of friends with her to the diner I waitressed to afford the necessities at Greymoor that the scholarship didn’t cover, just to embarrass me.

The sweet, tangy flavour of the juice gathered on my bottom lip as I held the tray firmly. The sharp edge bit into my palm. Deep breaths. You need this job, Maisie. Do not–I repeat, do not stick the glass in her left eye.

As if he could hear my thoughts, I felt my boss’s stare drilling holes into my back as I tried for a polite, apologetic smile. "I’m really sorry. I’ll have that cleaned up–"

"That won’t be enough."

Lana’s voice was light. Almost cheerful. She extended one leg from beneath the table, her stained black boot catching the light. "Wipe it off. With your tongue."

I reared back. "Excuse me?"

"That bottle," Lana said, gesturing toward the wine, "costs more than half a year of your salary. Cole gifted it to me to make tonight special. And you’ve ruined it."

Her red lips curved. "I could have a word with Mr. Theodore about re-evaluating your usefulness here." Lana wagged her foot slowly and her ponytail slipped elegantly over one bare shoulder as she tilted her head. "Or you could get down, apologize and wipe my boots. Make it believable, and I’ll forget all about it."

Surely, she didn’t mean that.

When I didn’t move, her blue eyes turned cold. "Perhaps, one run with the big, bad Lycans and you’ve forgotten your place in this pack. And who your future Luna is."

The tray was cutting into my palm now. I could feel the warmth of blood coating my skin as I fought against the helpless rage churning in my gut. "I will not," I said, voice hard and firm. "You tripped me–"

"I suppose that’s possible, though. Forgetting yourself, I mean," she said, cutting me off. She reached for an empty glass and swirled it once. "I hear the sex is pretty great with them. Lycans." A soft, theatrical sigh. "But then, you would know, wouldn’t you? You’ve always been generous that way, Maisie. The Lycans, half our senior class at high school... you’ve never really discriminated who you parted your legs for and fucked."

My ears began ringing.

Cole sat up straighter and she smiled wider. I knew what she was doing. She was slandering my name, my image, and before morning, it would spread like wildfire that I was some slut who slept around. All because she couldn’t stand the idea that Cole wanted me. She would ruin me for everyone else.

Tripping me hadn’t been a mistake. She had come here just for that reason and she’s succeeded. I could hear the words spreading across the diner. Maisie’s a whore. Maisie’s a slut. Maisie’s slept with more than half of Greymoor. Must be how she got in.

No matter that my first kiss had been with Cole, at the mixer, in that hallway.

I knew by now that there was no changing the narrative when it began.

"Anyway." Lana smoothed her ponytail over her shoulder and finally looked back at me, her eyes soft with faux sympathy. "The boots, Maisie. If you wouldn’t mind."

I snatched off the stupid name badge from my uniform and threw it at the table and I glanced over my shoulder at Mr. Theodore. I’d never liked him anyway. He’d begun paying me less after I rejected his propositioning. "I quit."

And I grabbed the rest of Cole’s wine and threw it in her face, before stomping off, tearing off the apron and hurling it in the thrash.

I would probably regret that decision in exactly five minutes, but I knew if I had to bear one more second of it, someone was going to meet the end of my fist.

I barely made it two steps outside the cold night before I heard Cole’s fast steps behind me. "What did they want with you?"

I knew he was speaking about the Lycans. I just wasn’t obligated to respond. I was having the worst two weeks of my whole life and I was physically and mentally checked out.

My shoes sank into the snow as I traipsed blindly across the street, my tears turning to ice on my cheeks.

He smelled so good, it messed with all of my senses. He smelled like mine.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify