Page 132 of Shattered Stars
“Mr. Kennedy,” Stone says, his expression flickering somewhere between amusement and tension now.
Tristan comes to stop between me and Summer, facing the professor head on and my bond tugs at them both, pulling me in both directions … and then a third. Azlan’s nearby, probably watching this entire silly altercation. He’s probably cursing the fact he’s bonded to someone so young, still caught up in childish schoolyard crap like this.
“It is stolen,” Summer insists, “that girl has no money. There is no way she got her hands on it through legitimate means. If someone gave it to her, they gave it to her because she …” Summer’s words trail away under the fierceness of Tristan’s stare.
“I gave it to her,” Tristan says. “It isn’t stolen. I bought it for her. You can see the damn receipt if you want.”
Summer’s face falls, real hurt suddenly clear in her eyes, and for the first time since I arrived at this academy, I actually feel sorry for the girl. It lasts precisely thirty seconds.
“Why, Tristan? She’s a slut and a nobody. She has no powers, no family, no influence. And most of the time she looks and smells like pig shit.”
“I think we both know she doesn’t, Summer. I think even you can see she’s the most beautiful woman at this ball tonight.”
Summer takes an angry step towards him, jabbing her finger at him like a knife. “So what? She’s still unregistered scum.”
There’s a communal intake of breath and many shocked faces turn to me in disbelief. Including Trent’s.
“Oh yeah,” Summer says, smirking at me. I guess she’s been sitting on that piece of juicy gossip, waiting to expose it in a moment just like this. “Don’t think I didn’t know your dirty little secret, Pig Girl.”
“Summer,” Stone warns, stepping between her and me. But Tristan’s the one she’s really interested in, not me.
“An unregistered, Tristan. Your pretty little Pig Girl was an unregistered.”
“I know,” he says calmly, causing more shocked gasps from our crowd.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Summer spits. “You can’t seriously …” She shakes her head, cackling. “You can’t be serious about her.”
Tristan lifts his chin, staring at Summer and then out towards all those people gaping at us, before finally landing on me. “I am serious. I am very serious. Because Rhianna Blackwaters is my–”
But he never gets to utter those last few words because there’s an almighty roar and then the ceiling of the Great Hall cracks right in half.
49
The werebeast
I clingto the reptile’s tail, my claws digging into its scaly flesh, determined that I will not be dislodged. Twice the creature attempts to throw me off, thrashing its tail about wildly, shaking me so hard my bones rattle. But I only dig my claws in deeper, snapping my jaw into its muscle, making the creature moan.
In retaliation, it skims low across the trees, branches scraping at my body, at my own flesh.
I cling to the creature, despite the pain and the injury, my blood seeping from my skin as the branches cut me.
The girl – our mate – is in danger.
We are returning to the capital to protect her.
The boy was a fool to leave her side in the first place. She may be strong – stronger than even perhaps he deciphers – but she is just a girl after all. Mere flesh and blood. It would be so easy for us to lose her.
I growl at the thought, anger coursing through my veins, and clasp my claws tighter into the reptile.
The boy believes I intend to hurt her. It’s why he took us far away from her. To keep her safe.
I snarl. I am not the one who intends to harm her. She’s mine. My mate. My pet. I want to build a nest for her and rut her full of pups. I want to shield her away from harm and danger. I want to be with her, guarding her, keeping her safe. I am not the danger. I am the protection.
Two magicals ride the giant reptile’s back. I can tell from their scent they are human. Which explains their lack of observation. They have not seen me. And they curse the reptile for its erratic behavior. It means the rest of the flight is smoother, the reptile flicking its tail occasionally, still determined to shake me loose.
Nonetheless, my shoulders scream with pain as the minutes flick to hours and my paws are stiff and aching.
I wonder if, caged inside the boy, I have weakened, if I can hold on long enough to reach her. But then the city lights appear on the horizon.
