“Well …” Mikel cleared his throat. “It looks like my session is over. Does anyone have a change of shirt for Cian? He can’t leave looking like that.”
“On it.” Niko pulled a shirt and a water bottle out of his bag, tossing both to Cian, who tugged the bloodied shirt over his head and poured water onto a clean section of it, using that to wipe away the blood from his neck. He didn’t look at Theodore, and Theodore didn’t apologise.
Isobel blinked at the second nipple piercing Cian had acquired at some point, realising his ink had spread further again. It practically covered his chest and his sides. She tore her attention away when she felt eyes burning into the side of her face.
Gabriel.
He had his head tilted, his russet gaze open and curious—not his usual cold detachment. After her encounter with him, hadn’t she also avoided him? Swallowing, she inched his way, watching the hint of amusement that sparked to life in his expression.
“Me too?” he guessed, though there was a slightly ironic or sarcastic note to his voice.
She hovered by his knees, wondering how to proceed. He would probably prefer she didn’t try to hug him. He opened one of his hands and parted his legs, so she stepped closer, her arms twining around his neck as his hands pushed beneath her loose top, settling against the bare skin of her lower back.
“I thought you didn’t like touching,” she whispered into his skin.
“You smell like other people,” he rumbled back. “It’s infuriating.”
“We smell fucking amazing and don’t even pretend we don’t,” Cian said, examining his fingernails. He was starting to sound a little more like himself. “Anything else you need to share with the group, doll?”
Isobel pulled back from Gabriel, shaking her head. “No.”
She met Theodore’s stormy stare, and he smiled slightly, like he had won some kind of competition. Maybe he had. She had been sexual with him, but she hadn’t run away from him.
“I have to go see my father,” she announced, suddenly full of tension again. “I don’t think I can wait until tonight. I feel too … overloaded. I just want to get one thing off my plate.”
“Then let’s go.” Mikel strode for the elevator, barking over his shoulder. “Everyone, get your shit together before next period. The next person to start a fight will have me to deal with. And clean all the blood off the floor before you leave.”
Isobel stared at his back, her brows twitching up as he called the elevator. She moved to his side, smoothing her shirt down nervously.
“You don’t smell like anything,” he reassured her, his attention shrewd as they stepped into the elevator. He leaned against the side wall, crossing his arms, his eyes dipping from the top of her shirt to her hips and back up again. “They smell like you marked them as much as possible.”
“Is that a thing?”
“That is, most definitely, a thing. Leaving behind your scent and essence on your mate is a type of claiming.”
She felt her forehead scrunching up and quickly turned her eyes to the floor.
“No,” Mikel said calmly. “Tell me.”
The elevator dinged open, and they both stepped into the hallway, but he gave a minute shake of his head when she moved to step toward her father’s apartment.
She cringed. “It’s not appropriate.”
“We’re past appropriate. Tell me what you were thinking.”
“Just that they didn’t do the same. They actually made a point not to.”
“As they should.” Mikel nodded. “You have eight other mates—and even aside from that fact, if one of them had tried to claim you in any sort of way in front of the other, we might be looking at a far messier situation right now. Likely a bloody mess. And blood can be hard to hide in a place with a camera around every corner. Are you upset that they didn’t?”
“Upset?” She shook her head. “I would have been upset if they didn’t let me do what I did … but they encouraged it.”
“They tried to take care of you, pet.” He raised a hand, his fingers brushing beneath her chin, barely even a touch before he dropped his hand. “Let’s get this over and done with.” He nodded down the hallway.
“You can just wait outside if you want,” she said, moving to the door of her father’s apartment. She could already hear his voice booming from within, and it sent a tremor of apprehension down her spine.
But she had to do this.
For her mother.
“Not a chance,” Mikel muttered, reaching past her to knock briskly on the door. “You’re never going to be alone with him again.”
His body was close behind hers, but as soon as the door handle turned, he melted a few steps away, standing slightly off to the side.
“Isobel?” Braun Carter filled the doorway, a look of annoyance in his face as he became momentarily distracted by his phone.
“You’ve got it, Stan!” he thundered enthusiastically. “I’ll have Bellamy email you right now and we’ll get this little mess all cleared up, eh? Great.” He hung up the phone, the annoyance in his face creasing deeper. “What are you doing here?” He only seemed to notice Mikel, then, and most of the annoyance filtered out of his expression. “Professor Easton. What a pleasure.” He flung the door open, motioning them inside. “What brings you both here? Shouldn’t you be in class right now, Isobel?”
“This is more important,” she managed to get out, the giant ball of anxiety in her throat making it difficult to speak. “There’s something I need to ask you.”
“By all means.” He rocked back on his heels, folding his meaty arms and setting his jaw in a warning flex. “I’m at your disposal.”
He wasn’t even trying to hide his sarcasm in front of Mikel … but then again, he probably expected Mikel to share his disdain.
“I need to know what happened to Mom.”
Her father’s thick brows drew down, heavy over his eyes. “That’s a conversation for private family time, Isobel. Come back at the time we have scheduled. No guests—no offence, Professor Easton, but it’s just so rare that I get alone time with my daughter, her being so famous now.” His attention flicked up to Mikel for a moment, seeming a little confused over the other man’s continued silence.
“No.” Isobel forced her eyes up to her father’s, flinching at the wave of his rage as it swept over her, threatening to send her to her knees. “I’m free now. We can meet now.”
He stared at her for a moment. Calculating. And then he fell back another step, motioning for them both to take a seat on one of the couches facing the floor-to-ceiling windows that looked over the front of the academy. His assistant walked in from the other room, holding a tablet in one hand and a phone in the other. She paused when she spotted Mikel, her eyes going wide before she quickly turned and left the room again, closing the door quietly behind her.