Page 37 of Shattered Stars
It’s that laugh. The one that sounds like sunshine. The one that has me wanting to kiss her.
He hears it too, restless inside me.
I have the urge to drop to my knees and cover my ears with my arms. Is she a fucking siren? Is that what this is?
A powerful siren. One my mother wants me to …
My gaze snatches their way again and I catch a glimpse of them disappearing through the gap in the trees, hand in hand, running like they’re a couple of kids in love.
The beast snarls inside me.
Except it isn’t him snarling. It’s me.
“What the fuck, man?” Dan says, taking several steps away from me.
And yeah, I’m done with this bullshit. Done!
I start to march away. Away from them. Away from him. Away from everything, the beast going fucking crazy inside me, the pressure in my skull so extreme I think my head might explode.
“Hey, where are you going?” Dan calls after me.
“Away,” I growl.
“You’re leaving? Johnson will have a fit.”
If Johnson has a problem with me leaving, she can come talk to me about it. Or she can tell the principal and she can come talk to me about it. Then they can both talk to my mother together. I don’t give a shit.
I’m done with this place. Done!
I did the match. I won it for them. Gave them the Cup. What more is there to stay for?
Nothing.
When I come to think about it, I know all there is to know. I’m ten times more powerful than 99% of the students in this academy. And the teachers too. Shit, even York would struggle up against me.
So what is the fucking point in staying here, in dicking around for six more months. It’s just a vanity when I could be out there, like my brother, making a difference.
What is the point in staying when it’s only torturous? When the beast becomes more restless inside me each day that passes? When I have to see her every day? Temp-fucking-tation dangling right in front of my nose. It’s too much.
I’m going to write to her again, tell her my decision. That’s what I need to settle the beast, not some girl. Notthatgirl.
I falter, somewhere in the academy garden, leaning against the trunk of a tall oak tree, its bark rough beneath my palm, its scent strong in my nose.
I can’t do what my mother asks. I couldn’t do that to any girl, least of all her.
I’ve seen what it’s done to my mother, under that high-buttoned shirt. All those scars. I know the sacrifices she’s made.
I won’t do that. The girl deserves better than me. Whatever the beast may think, whatever my mother might say, whatever fate has deigned, I won’t do it. I won’t ever tie another life to mine. I wouldn’t make her suffer that way. I can’t see her hurt.
Besides, the girl has her fated mate. The enforcer. And fuck maybe she’ll have the golden boy of the academy, Tristan Kennedy, too.
I can’t hang around to watch that shit, knowing I want her, knowing I can’t have her.
No. I’ll show the world what I can really do when you strip away the helmets and the safety vests, the rules and referee. I’ll show them all.
12
Tristan
