Page 4 of The Devils They Are

Fight for them.

As I hoped, Joshua perks up after receiving a solid punch to the cheek. His ego takes over, arms wildly swinging in retaliation as the two guys exchange blows.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Archie pull out his cell, glancing down. The crowd roars as Joshua hits the side of the cage, but I still hear the little"Shit!"that comes from Archie.

Before I can ask what's wrong, he hands me the cell with an open text message from his dad. William Roberts is the fire chief, so instantly I know it’s bad.

Dad: There's a fire at Cedar. We're on scene but it's not looking good. Arson suspected.

The noise of the room fades as I read and re-read the text message. Our school is onfucking fire? Why would someone do that?

A loud bellow rips me back to the present. Joshua is on his back in the cage, clearly unconscious, while the Willowbrook fighter runs around in victorious circles.

“Send someone to check on Joshua then call your dad,” I direct Arch, handing him back the cell. “We need to find out what happened.”

He nods, pushing his way through the crowd while I turn my attention back to the other side of the room.

Not many people would benefit or get a kick out of burning our school into ashes.Except…

I glance at the three of them suspiciously. Hunter is on his feet, alternating between clapping and pumping his fist into the air while Rylan holds out his hand as someone slaps a wad of notes into it.

But when I look at Tai, I find him staring right back at me. He throws me a wink, my insides burning with rage.

If I find out they are responsible for this, we’re going to war.

Rules be fucking damned.

Chapter two

Bexley

Ican'thidethelook of disgust from my face as I glare up at the chestnut shaded building, squinting as the morning sun whacks me in the face.

Beside me, Arch lets out a sigh, rubbing the side of his face with exasperation.

"This is the worst idea in the history of ideas."

I snort. "It's certainly not my first preference. Or my second. Hell, is there a position after last?"

White jerseys float around us, taunts and cat calls bouncing off me without making a dent.

One guy—Perkins, according to his football jersey—decides to be brave, getting right up into my face as he jeers at me, bristles of spit flying out of his mouth.

"Welcome to Willowbrook, bitc—"

My hand snaps out, cutting him off as I wrap my fingers around his neck in a tight grip. My nails are blood-red today—a warning.

It's the only one they will get.

Perkins splutters for a moment, in shock, trying to take a breath. Caught off-guard by my reaction, he quickly slaps my arm out of the way with ease, stepping back. "What the fuck?" he gasps, clutching at his neck.

Giving him a polite smile, I take pride in the angry-red crescent moon marks that now blemish his skin. "Touch me again and next time I'll gouge your fucking eyes out. Okay, sweet pea?"

I sense a plethora of bodies behind me, a blue wall appearing into my peripheral vision as other Cedar students step up protectively behind and beside me.

Even though we're being forced to attend Willowbrook until our school is repaired, it was a unanimous decision to continue wearing our own blue jerseys. Like Willowbrook, we have a few different jerseys among the cohort—such as the football players having their own unique ones with their names and position numbers.

Most of us just wear the plain version without the extra detail. They all have Cedar's emblem on them—a tarnished coat of arms engulfing a wildcat. It’s not much different from Willowbrook’s attire, and it’s an unpleasant reminder that we’re in wolf territory now.

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