Page 62 of Wicked Dove
“They’re distress signals,” Kael murmurs as I watch in wonder, yet all I can think about is the fact that distress signals are far too fitting now, because I’m definitely in need of rescuing.
NINETEEN
ELODIE
Ican’t breathe. Kael is suffocating me and I can’t decide whether I want to succumb to it or fight my way out of the confines I find myself in. At first, in our potion’s class, it almost made me feel like I was caught under his spell, wrapped up in his attention, his subtle touches, and his air of care, but now, I don’t know whether he’s trying to purposely piss me off or if he’s a control freak. Maybe both.
My nostrils flare as I glance to my left, spying the man in question, before I try to peer around him to where Ocean is. I’ve asked a handful of times if he has an issue with Ocean, since he seems to be splitting us up so much, but his nonchalant shrug and shake of his head makes it clear every time that he doesn’t care about that at all.
I can’t pinpoint his problem, but whatever it is, it has him sandwiched between the two of us. Sighing, I turn my attention back to the front of the class, where Professor Bratt mumbles in his monotone voice, and that’s when the bell chimes through the air.
I’m on my feet in an instant, acutely aware of the fact that nothing the professor has said for the past hour has registered in my mind. I’ve been too caught up in the press of Kael’s thighagainst mine. Which is ridiculous because I never let myself get twisted up inside like this.
It’s his fault, and I need some air.
Bolting for the door before I can get caught in his web once again, I dart through the sea of students, not bothering to apologize as I shoulder barge a few people. It’s only when I make it outside that I manage to take a deep breath, and I sag with relief as I exhale slowly before repeating the motion.
I make sure to move out of the way of everyone spilling out and find a quieter spot a few steps to the left, away from everyone heading toward the dining hall. I’m more than happy to join them in a few minutes, but first, I need to bask in the sun that beams overhead and let it warm my bones before I do something stupid, reckless, or worse… nice.
Closing my eyes, I preen under the sun’s heat across my skin, marveling in another deep breath, until a shadow casts over me. Reluctantly, I pry my eyes open to find a random guy looking down at me. My gaze immediately darts to the pocket of his blazer to find orange stitching making up the emblem.
Orange.
I think that’s Institute Five, but I can’t be sure. Regardless, he’s standing way too close, which makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Yeah, I definitely don’t like that.
His thin lips curl into a dark smile that manages to taint the heat from the sun, sending a shiver down my spine. His mousey blond hair is swept back off his face and held in place with too much gel. He needs to rein it in by a gallon at least. But it’s the strong, almost powdery aftershave that clings to him that makes me want to gag.
“You’re new,” he states, and I fight back an eye roll as I remain rooted to the spot, refusing to look weak before him.There’s something about him that makes me think he’d only use it to his advantage.
“You’re observant,” I mutter in response, and he snickers, the sound hollow as my shoulders grow tighter with tension.
“I’m Berkly,” he states, his eyebrows wiggling enough to make me cringe, but I try my best to hide it as I nod.
“That’s great.”
“What’s your name?” he pushes when I don’t automatically offer it to him, and I shrug, wanting out of his space now. I just need to achieve it without looking weak or unnerved by him.
With a tight smile locked across my lips, I attempt to push past him, but he plants a hand on my shoulder, making it impossible to slip away.
“I’m late,” I explain, and his fingers curl into my blazer as his smile grows more rigid.
“I just want your name,” he insists, and I shake my head.
“I promise, you won’t need it.” I spread my lips wider, the smile likely maniacal at this stage as I try to brush him off, but he only holds me tighter, digging his fingertips into my flesh until I know there will be bruises tomorrow.
Panic sets in and instinct takes over as my hands ball into fists, both sets of knuckles ready to plow into his face, but as I rear my free arm back, a fist sails between us, landing with a thud against Berkly’s jaw.
“What the fuck?” he snarls, stumbling back a few steps as he cups his cheek, eyes darting around, looking for the culprit who would dare lay hands on him. But it doesn’t take long, not when he’s more than happy to make himself known.
“Don’t touch what isn’t yours,” Kael warns, and I gape at him with wide eyes and disbelief thrumming through me.
“Are you insane?” I blurt, unable to wrap my head around what he just said, never mind the fact that he just hit someone because of me.
Despite how loud I am, he ignores me, aiming all of his anger at my new least favorite person in the world.
“Listen, Kael, you don’t—” Berkly’s words are cut off with another slam of Kael’s fist as I stumble back a step.
