Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 60

Chapter 60: 60. Rebel I

Mercer

"Hey, Sugar."

Something sardistic rumbled in my gut as I picked off the shredded school bag still hanging off her little seat. My gaze flicked over to the claw marks gouged into the desk.

It wasn’t difficult to guess what had happened.

"Cellphone’s still in there," Quinlan said with deadly softness.

Yes. It was. Which meant the fucking tracker was useless. The blue dot that was the cellphone we’d purchased her had been blinking in the same spot all day, and it was now seven in the evening.

Where the hell was she? This wasn’t like her.

Jericho gripped my collar and wrenched me into him. "If anything happens to her—"

"Fuck off," I snapped. "Just because you developed a conscience overnight doesn’t make you a saint."

Quinn, ever the pacifist, came in between us before Jericho crushed my windpipe. "Maybe she bolted. I mean... would you blame her?"

"Doesn’t fucking matter," Jericho muttered, movements jerky and agitated. "Need to find her. She could be anywhere. Things are too volatile right now for her to be just... anywhere. We need to get Soren."

A bitter taste filled my mouth as I watched them Quinn go.

I didn’t want him anywhere near her. It was an unnecessary jealousy, but knowing he’d had a feel of her when all I constantly got from her was hatred was an irritating rash I couldn’t get rid off.

They taught us to learn to share. They taught us that we could co-exist with one woman. Even the Goddess hadn’t restricted her vessel to one man. So it made sense that our females didn’t. And possessive as we were, it was supposed to be alright.

The Convergence bond between us should’ve made it alright.

Bull-fucking-shit.

I didn’t like to share. Soren sure as hell didn’t. Jericho even less. Quinlan... well, he’d always had questionable indulgences.

Red pulsed at the edges of my mind, the need to go ahead, find her alone and punish her for making me feel this way nearly overwhelming me.

I wanted her all to myself. But I couldn’t have her.

My life had been panned out for me from the moment I was born and the priestess had seen the stars that aligned me to Soren.

For all of mother’s lack of acknowledgment for her bastard son, she kept me on a tight leash. Perhaps it was for the fear that I would become the tyrant my father had been, but she had the idea that if she could control me, she could control the outcome to fit her ideals.

She wouldn’t accept me as her son, but I wouldn’t bring disgrace to her, either.

It was a slimy, shit position.

I didn’t dare want things. If I did, she took them away. Broke them. Bastards didn’t get to want things. I should’ve been thankful she hadn’t aborted me with a fucking iron hanger. That was as gracious as she would be. And for my pussy father’s sin, I had to make it up to her by doing whatever she wanted.

Fuck who she wanted me to fuck. Spy on my own brothers. Lie. Steal. Kill.

I wasn’t a person. I was a fucking mercenary. Jericho was much like me in that aspect. We’d spent all of our lives killing for the crown, killing for the race, ensuring Her Majesty and His Royal Prickly Highness never had to fight the dirty battles.

Was Soren’s life any easier than mine?

Fuck no.

Having to whore yourself out constantly to whoever the fuck wanted a piece of you under the guise of ’procreating’ did a number on one’s soul. There were auctions for it. For him. And in the event that he refused to follow through with it, they didn’t mind dousing him in aphrodisiacs. And that wasn’t even the least of it.

Did I want to trade places with Soren?

But we all knew our particular brand of obsession didn’t ever let go.

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