Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 258

Chapter 258: 258. The Competition VI

Maisie

"The Queen favours this city. Of course they get top tier security and forget all about us on the borders," one of the students from Hellsgrave said as I herded the thirteenth group–which were significantly more annoying and less impressionable than the twelveth–down the lockered hallways.

The girl on my right was staring at my collar. She had a scar that looked recent running down her left cheek and her hair was dyed blue. She was dressed like a fighter, much like the rest of the group. "You’re her, aren’t you? That chick wanted for murder."

I tried not to cringe. Guess I really was famous. Wait till they found out why Brownstone was attacked. I didn’t doubt she’d stick those pretty daggers she carried into my gut.

"You could say so," I muttered and gestured at the training hall. "This used to be–"

"Sick," a guy whistled from behind. "If I asked for a piece of your sweet ass, would you stab me in the back, too?"

The tallest one in the group–what was his name again? Bart? Barry? Bryce?--released a disgusted sound. "Only cowards stab others in the back, when they’re unsuspecting. Besides, she must really get all the benefits from being married to those privileged hotshots. A murderer even gets the role of a tour guide. Adorable."

I glanced back at him.

A pair of mismatched eyes met mine. His left eye was green and the right was brown. He had hair the colour of salt and pepper kept short and practical. He had a permanent scowl of displeasure on his face that reminded me of Mercer, and he was huge for a wolf, standing at nearly six foot four, with several pounds on him, muscles bulging from his head to toe black gear.

The corner of his mouth tilted in a lopsided grin. But it didn’t look like a grin at all. It was an ugly, cruel smile, and I thought if he didn’t have such nasty expressions, I might have found him handsome.

"What? Your feelings get hurt, princess?"

I ignored him, taking them down the right hallway. "This leads to the library–"

"I’ll be fighting one of your dogs in a few hours," he said.

I stopped mid-step.

"Which was it," he purred. "Ah, yes. The pretty red head." He moved into my space, leaning down over me. "I’ve always been curious. You think when I splatter his blood across the floors of the arena, he’ll bleed red like the rest of us, or will he bleed ichor like the gods they pretend to be?"

My Lycan didn’t like the threat at all, but I couldn’t help the snort that escaped me. "Confidence is good, but Mercer would eat you for breakfast and use your fragile bones for toothpicks, dog."

His lips peeled back in a snarl, but before he could properly respond, he stiffened.

His head whipped right, towards the direction we’d just come from and he lifted his face to the air and sniffed.

He went stiff as a marionette. And then, like he was being yanked by a lasso, he took off down the hallway, tearing down everything in his path.

"Brody, wait!" the girl yelled, going after him.

Ah. So his name was Brody. Somehow, it fit him perfectly.

I sighed heavily, thinking this might be the perfect opportunity to sneak away. Then I recalled Atlas’s threat and shuddered. She would actually skin me alive if I lost an entire group of Hellsgrave students. Especially a group walking around with daggers and guns.

I swore under my breath and took off after them.

"Hey!" I yelled. "Stop–"

They had already vanished around the corner. I growled inwardly and rounded it at a sprint.

And nearly collided with the back of a crowd. Students blocked the hallway outside the women’s bathroom, various screams echoing from within where the girls who were participating in the competition were no doubt showering and changing.

I gasped, running forward. "You can’t be in there!" I shoved through the bodies, trying to get to the door. "Move–get the hell back–and out–"

I reached the forefront and when I finally laid eyes on what the commotion was about, I stilled.

The other girls had taken refuge in the bathroom stalls, their heads peeking out through the door with terror in their gazes.

And then, there was Jenny, who stood against the far wall of the bathroom, frozen to the spot.

She was wearing nothing but a black bra and matching panties, her uniform still clutched in one hand like she’d been caught mid-change.

Her eyes were wide, chest rising and falling too fast. In front of her stood the huge prick who had been needling me thirty seconds ago.

He was breathing hard, shoulders rigid, every line of his body locked on her.

He took a step forward.

Jenny pressed herself harder against the tiles, whimpering. "S-stop–"

He took another step closer, his body posed like a serpent coiled to snap, and my instincts kicked in, extremely protective of my best friend.

"Stay away from her."

A happy smile curved my lips and my eyes stung. Finally.

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