Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 75

Chapter 75: 75. Markings I

Maisie

The words sank in like stones.

Consummation.

They were going to force me to choose one of them right now. The one I supposedly felt the strongest pull toward.

Pull?

All I felt was this helpless anger festering inside me. A part of me wondered if I could reject it, then I recalled rejections weren’t a thing with Lycan bonds, and if they were holding the priestess by claw point, what I wanted was no longer on the table.

I had to pick.

I knew who the first one should be without thinking about it, and it had nothing to do with the strongest pull. It was that when I thought about his face and wanted to smash it in the hardest. I felt the fiercest anger when I thought about him.

And from the stupid, smug look on his face, Soren knew it was him.

I wanted nothing more than to slug it off. For a moment, my anger boiled to a critical point as I considered choosing someone else, but I had never been someone who cut her nose to spite her face.

If I was going to be their Erasthai, if they were going to force me into doing this, then I needed to make the best of the situation. I needed the bond at its strongest.

It was the only way I could gain some leverage. Some advantage. And goddess knew I needed some right now.

This was no longer about my emotions. It was my life on the line. Being their Erasthai meant if something happened to me, it happened to them. They would protect me for sure.

No. They wouldn’t merely protect me.

They would die for me.

And for the first time in my life, I decided I wasn’t going to sit around to be used. I was going to use them.

A cold calm settled over me and I said, "Soren."

Neither of them looked surprised. Mercer and Jericho bristled slightly. Quinlan’s expression was the exact opposite. He seemed... pleased.

Soren stepped forward and the moonlight kissed his skin.

Goddess, he looked devastating.

The black embroidered jacket clung to his powerful frame like it had been sewn onto him, the silver threading catching the light.

His hair was slightly mussed from the earlier chaos, dark strands falling across his forehead in a way that made him look both regal and feral.

A single silver earring dangled from his left ear. Flecks of blood dotted his sharp cheekbones and jaw, making him look like a beautiful savage who had just stepped off a battlefield.

My stomach flipped. Hatred and hunger twisted so tightly inside me I couldn’t tell which was which anymore.

I gripped the dagger tighter as he stopped right in front of me, towering, radiating heat and raw power. The priestess whispered instructions, but I barely heard them. My pulse thundered in my ears.

I raised the blade to his neck, right over the strong, pulsing vein. The steel kissed his skin. For one wild second, I imagined driving it straight through his neck and killing him.

Soren’s dark eyes met mine. A slow, knowing smile curved his lips. Then, deliberately, he arched his neck further, offering me better access, baring his throat completely in a show of dominance and mocking surrender.

He can read me, I realized with a jolt of fear. He knows exactly what I was thinking.

"Go ahead, child," the priestess urged, her voice shaking. "Mark him."

I rose onto the tips of my toes, heart hammering so hard I felt dizzy. He was so tall. So impossibly still. My free hand trembled as I braced it against his chest, feeling the steady beat beneath his jacket.

Soren’s voice was low, rough, intimate. "Suck."

Soren moaned.

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