Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 88

Chapter 88: 88. Transitioning V

Maisie

It was strange.

The only moments of clarity I had were when I finally slept. When the screaming heat and endless lust released their claws, my mind drifted into dreams so vivid they felt like memories playing in reverse.

I watched my entire life unfold from somewhere outside my body, like a detached observer cataloguing every moment, searching for something I couldn’t name.

Ah, yes. A name.

I sifted through faces, voices, and feelings like a girl standing in front of a closet full of prom dresses. None of them felt right. Giving away my virginity—no, gifting it—in this state felt strangely sacred and profane at the same time. Like handing over a piece of myself I would never get back.

Lyon’s face floated to the front of my mind.

He would’ve been the safest, easiest choice. Kind. Gentle. Always nice to me without expecting anything in return. But I wasn’t stupid. If I gave his name, Soren’s "honorable" act would shatter in seconds. I’d wake up to find Lyon in a body bag, and I’d have another death on my conscience.

Besides... Lyon didn’t deserve to be used as a spiteful shield and discarded the moment the heat broke. That wasn’t who I was.

I mentally crossed his name out.

Jericho came next. It was an uninvited thought, but it was insistent. If I was being brutally honest with myself, he would’ve been the smartest choice. He was grounded. Steady. Controlled. He would’ve been gentle. A cushion. The one who could absorb my rage and hatred for them and make the whole humiliating experience... softer.

That was exactly why I couldn’t choose him.

I didn’t want to wake up from this fever and find myself emotionally attached to any of them. Sex I could justify as a transaction. A biological necessity to keep me alive through the transition. Something primal that would lose meaning once the heat subsided. I could walk away from it without losing myself again. My heart.

I had already been burned by them once. I wasn’t stupid enough to hand them the match a second time.

The same logic applied to Quinlan. Choosing him would risk making me feel cared for. And seen.

No. I couldn’t risk that either.

The heat still licked at the edges of my dream like flames trying to break through a door as consciousness began flitting towards me.

Mercer. There was no way I could escape being consumed by that fire that burned in him. I hated him just as much as I hated Soren, and I was drawn to him just as badly.

The lines blurred to that effect with Mercer.

In the end, my safest option, the one where I walked out of this transition still as Maisie Adams, and not a foolish woman who had given both her body and senses away to these men was still him.

Soren.

The one I hated the most.

Hating him was familiar. Reliable. The deepest connection I had with any of them was pure, burning hatred. At least with him, I knew I wouldn’t accidentally catch feelings. Sex with Soren would stay exactly what it was. A necessary evil. Nothing more.

But the mind works in the funniest ways.

For some reason, the moment my eyes popped open and I found myself thrust straight into hell again, the first word I said was something entirely different.

"Jericho."

****

Jericho

You could call it cheating.

I simply called it insurance.

We all knew she was going to choose Soren.

The bastard had marked her first and was now playing the noble, self-sacrificing martyr card like he deserved a fucking medal for it. But none of us were willing to roll over and let him claim that first deep bond.

Because this wasn’t about whose dick got to wear her virgin blood like a trophy. This was deeper. More primal. More territorial.

Whoever took her first during the transition would carve their name into the very core of her. Emotionally, instinctively, irreversibly. Every Lycan female ended up with one mate who sat just a little deeper in her soul than the rest. And we were all animals fighting to make sure that spot belonged to us.

So while Soren was playing the role of selfless martyr, the rest of us had been conducting our own little campaigns.

I sat on the roof like a gargoyle, chin resting on my fist, watching the circus unfold below with great amusement.

First came Quinlan.

Quinlan was the least likely of us to do something impulsive. He was simply very quiet about his certainties until they became unavoidable. So, I was indeed, surprised when the idiot snuck into her bedroom at 2 a.m., despite his claims of being ’content’ with whatever her decision was, and crouched by her bed like a lovesick fool.

He caught a lock of her hair between his fingers and though it was irrational, I felt an instant burn of violent jealousy in my chest as I wondered how soft it might’ve felt against his fingertips.

"There is a preconceived notion that I am the best of the bunch." He threaded his fingers in her hair. "That is not true, Cherie. I can be anything you want me to be. The devil. An angel. The gods, if you will. So long as I am yours."

He leaned in and said in his multilayered Lycan tone, "Quinlan. Remember it."

Maisie sighed into his hand, nuzzling his palm, and he kissed her forehead before leaving.

A sardonic breath slipped out of me. Interesting.

Mercer came in thirty-five minutes later. He stared at Maisie’s sleeping form for five minutes. Mercer had never been good with words. His mouth was always full of shit, so it was really no surprise that he didn’t know what to say to her to help his case, and continued pace the room like a caged animal.

He finally halted above her. Opened his mouth. Growled viciously. And began pacing again.

You know, I always did think Mercer was one meltdown away from an asylum.

Finally, he leaned over her. "I have no grand declarations or speeches, wildcat. I’m well fucking aware you hate me. And I’m okay with that because it means I’m already in so deep, when you think of me it burns as much as when I think of you. I marked your pussy first. It’s mine. Don’t give it to someone else or I’ll punish you for it when I get my turn."

Then he pressed his mouth to her ear and bit her earlobe until her eyelids fluttered, her blue eyes glazed over and unfocused with sleep as they trained on him briefly. "Mercer," he grunted sharply, equally using his Lycan command. "Don’t forget it."

Phenomenal.

"There’s nothing wrong with being second, Jer," his voice floated down the bond, dripping with arrogance. "I’d even let you watch if you ask nicely."

Fuck playing fair.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify