Page 48 of Do You Even Hex, Bro?
I remember the raw power in Killian's eyes, the casual strength with which he tore off Kyle's arm. “How dangerous are they?”
“To campus property and decorum? Lethally.” Villeneuve's tone is dry. “To their mate? No.” He seems to consider his next words carefully. “Wolves are, if nothing else, chivalrous. Perhaps to a degree that will irritate you.”
I study his face despite my persistent urge to turn mine away, trying to determine if he's being honest. He has no obvious reason to lie on their behalf. And yet, he's not outright condemning them either, despite his clear annoyance.
"I'll talk to them," I decide, surprising myself. "On neutral ground. Just... talking."
As long as Villeneuve gives me more of those elixirs so I can fuck them up if they step out of line.
"I can certainly arrange that." He rises smoothly from the piano bench, adjusting his immaculate suit jacket. "I have some matters to attend to on campus this afternoon. I’ll make arrangements for this evening." He pauses at the doorway. "In the meantime, please make yourself at home. The library may be of particular interest—third floor, east wing."
After he leaves, I remain seated, listening to the house settle around me. My stomach churns with anxiety at the prospect of facing the wolves again, but I need to get it over with. Running hasn't worked. Hiding is only a temporary solution.
I've spent three years letting fear dictate my life.
Maybe it's time to stop.
Chapter
Fourteen
KILLIAN
Thirteen hours.
Thirteen fucking hours we've been out here, watching Villeneuve's house like it holds the secrets to the universe. And actually, it does.
Our mate is in there.
The morning sun dapples through the trees, illuminating the heavy brush where I'm crouched with Micah. We've been rotating shifts all night, two of us keeping eyes on the property at all times while the others patrol and go back and forth between here and the pack house. My muscles ache from holding still too long, and my wolf paces restlessly beneath my skin, desperate to crash through those wards and claim what's ours.
Sean just stepped too close to the wards a little while ago, though, and it didn’t go well. The smell of burned fur is still lingering in the air even though he’s off grabbing shit from the pack house. Serves him right for saying I have a fuckingcutie mark.
"She was at the window earlier," Micah murmurs, his voice rough from hours of silence. "Just for a second."
"I saw." The memory makes my chest tighten. Regina, staring out warily at us before she vanished back into the depths of Villeneuve's fortress. She almost looked like she hoped she’d see us.
Almost.
Probably wishful thinking on my part.
But a guy can dream.
The rumble of a car in the garage pricks my ears.
"He's leaving," I growl, already on my feet. Human feet for now. Not for long, if my wolf gets its way. "This is our chance."
Micah grabs my arm. "Kill, we agreed?—"
"I'm not storming the place," I snap, shaking him off. "But if he's heading to campus, I can intercept him. Talk to him without those fucking wards between us."
"At least put pants on first," Micah sighs, gesturing to my naked body. We've been shifting back and forth all night, conserving energy and clothes where we can.
I snatch the jeans he offers. They're Sean's and a bit loose in the waist, but Rowan’s belt makes it work. Pretty sure I’m kicking off a round of the pants equivalent of musical chairs, but that’s not my problem right now.
"What if she still doesn't want to see us?" Micah asks, the question we've all been avoiding since she walked away with Villeneuve.
"She will." I zip up the jeans with more force than necessary. "She has to."
