Page 34 of House of Ruin
If Alecto was angry before, right now she was close to fuming as she slammed the textbook closed and pushed her chair away from the table, getting ready to leave.
Before she could even rise, though, Blaze got hold of her chair, yanking it closer to him with Alecto still sitting.
“You can be angry at me as much as you want, baby,” Blaze drawled, his gaze jumping between her eyes and lips, “but don’t you fucking walk away. You hear me?”
Heat surged to her cheeks as she flushed, her eyes wide. Her lips were parted, as if in shock or as if about to say something.
But no sounds came out.
Lazily, Blaze smirked, tilting his head to the side as he gazed at her, now so close to him.
Addicting.
This shit was addicting.
Getting a hold of herself and whatever emotions roamed inside her chest, Alecto cleared her throat and folded her hands in her lap.
“Fine. But you’ll have to seriously start paying attention, Blaze. You’ve been scatterbrained for weeks now.”
Blaze eased back in his chair, crossing his hands over his chest as he spread his legs wider, caging Alecto in her chair. “Not more scattered than usual, baby.”
For a moment, Alecto only glared at him, but Blaze couldseethoughts swirling in her mind. His muscles tensed against his will, and when the next words came out of her mouth, he wasn’t expecting them.
“Can we be serious for a moment?” Her face was as sober as her tone. “What’s been going on with you? You’re like a live wire. A toddler has better concentration than you do.”
Blaze snorted, arching an eyebrow.
“Fine,” Alecto said with a sigh, lifting her palms. “Don’t tell me if you don’t want to. We’re not friends, so whatever.”
No, they were not friends.
Fellow students, members of the same House, sure.
Fuckbuddies on good days.
Never friends.
As Alecto went back to the textbook, intently taking notes on whatever she read there, Blaze watched her with a frown.
It was the very first time Alecto had asked him about what was going on. The very first time she’d showed an ounce of concern, if he could even call it that.
Blaze wasn’t sure how that made him feel.
Venefica wasn’t a place for heart-to-hearts and sharing your emotions.
Not unless you wanted to be eaten alive.
Or found strung heartless on the Venefica founder’s statue.
Yet Blaze couldn’t deny the warmth blooming in his chest at the idea that she might care.
Only there was nothing Blaze could say to her. Or anyone.
Sleepless nights, drunken evenings, and foggy mornings were hard to explain. Just like the ache and the newfound anxiety making their way into his mind, the marrow of his bones.
What happens when the king’s head is cut off?
There was nothing Blaze could do to stop the events of the last trimester from happening again.
