Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77293 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 386(@200wpm)___ 309(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“I can’t blame my Drake for everything!” Finally, he looked up. His eyes were his own—obsidian black, I saw. But they didn’t look happy. “Look at what I did to you, Avery,” he said, gesturing at me. “I held you down and Marked you—I made you mine even though you didn’t want to be.”
Ah—so that was the problem. We had Marked each other in a very obvious and visible way and two males never Marked each other. He was probably regretting that decision right about now—wondering what everyone was going to think of him once they saw my Mark on him and his Mark on me.
“Look,” I said reasonably. “It’s not like we’re Blood-Bonded—Marks aren’t permanent. If you want to remove them before anyone sees—”
“No. The Marks stay,” he said, surprising me. “I want everyone to know you are mine and I am yours.”
I didn’t know what to say to that.
“Saint—” I began, rubbing the side of my neck. “Ouch!” I winced as my fingers touched an extremely tender spot. Abruptly, I remembered how he had bitten and sucked my neck the night before.
His eyes traveled to where my fingers were gingerly exploring the tender place.
“Another sin to add to my account,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“Well, if you don’t want us to remove the Marks, you can at least heal this,” I suggested, pointing to my neck. “I know you can—you healed worse after Juan punched me.”
But he shook his head, surprising me again.
“No. That mark stays as well.”
“But, Saint!” I protested uneasily. “My hair isn’t long enough to cover this and it’s going to be right above my collar. When people see it, they’re going to assume we…uh, you know…” I cleared my throat. “Did stuff together.” I couldn’t think how else to put it. “And I know you don’t what that,” I added.
“Let them think whatever the hell they want,” Saint said, frowning. “I don’t give a damn what anyone thinks—the most important thing is letting the other Drakes know you’re mine.”
He got up abruptly and started getting dressed.
“We had better get going. Breakfast is in fifteen minutes.”
“Is it?” I looked at my alarm clock and winced. So much for being an early riser. I scrambled to get up and get dressed myself, changing into a fresh uniform and throwing the crumpled trousers and the shirt and blazer that were strewn across the floor down the laundry chute.
The whole time, Saint didn’t say a word to me and I didn’t talk to him either. I couldn’t help thinking that exchanging Blood-Marks with someone was supposed to draw you closer together. It was a sign not only of ownership but of protection and love. But in our case, it seemed to have driven us apart.
As expected, the collar of my shirt didn’t cover the massive bite mark/hickey that Saint had left on my neck which was just under my left ear. I winced as I glanced at it in the mirror—oh yeah, people were going to be making assumptions, all right. And the thing was, they wouldn’t be completely wrong because Saint had been all over me last night.
The thought of that—the memory of his body against mine, his mouth on my neck, his heat branding my bare skin—sent a shiver straight through me. Goddess, parts of it had been frightening, but I still couldn’t help the way my body responded to Saint’s touch.
This morning, however, he appeared not to want to touch me at all. He kept a strict distance between us, being careful not even to brush my arm as we finally left our room together and climbed up the spiral staircase that led out of the Norm Dorm and into the Dining Hall.
I wondered if he was angry with me—or with himself for Marking me? Had he only done it to keep his Drake happy and he was secretly disgusted with himself for being with me? But he had snapped at me earlier and claimed that not everything could be blamed on his Drake. So did that mean he did want to be with me but felt guilty about it because of his upbringing?
It was all very confusing and I didn’t know what to think—I just wished Saint would at least talk to me about what he was thinking and feeling. But as he strode across the Dining Hall to our table, my tall, dark roommate was a closed book. He didn’t look at me at all but the minute I took a seat in my usual place, he went to the other end of the table, getting as far from me as he could again.
I sighed inwardly. It would have been really nice to have his support once the rest of my Coven mates noticed his Mark on me—and mine on him. Instead, it looked like we were going to be playing “let’s ignore each other” yet again.