55 vouchers
There is no way the Lycan King tried to flirt with me just now. That’s crazy. I shake the thought and begin my homework. My phone buzzes a few times from my study group chat. I glance over at it to see that everyone is talking about some party in the dorms near campus.
I usually ignore parties. It’s a rule that was enforced because I shouldn’t make an ass of myself to preserve the dutiful Luna image that Santiago’s mother wants to maintain. I open the chat to see that several of my girls in my study group will be attending. I’ve always wanted to go to one of these things.
I send a quick hello, and the chat explodes with greetings. Immediately, Lieza invites me to come out. I get up and make my way toward my brother’s gaming room, where I know the prince has been making himself at home. I tap on the door, and as I reach for the glass knob with the LED lights, I almost chicken out, but Ivar pulls the door open.
“Hey,” he says, pulling the door open.
“Hey,” I laugh, not expecting him to have answered the door that quickly.
“Can I help you?” he smirks.
“I was invited to a campus party-”
“We’re going,” he says without hearing any of the details.
“Okay.” I laugh at his enthusiasm.
He rips the headset off his head and tosses it onto one of the bean bag chairs. He walks inside, and I follow. I haven’t set foot in here since I was twelve. It hurt too much, but it’s exactly how I remember it. The ceiling has LED strips circling beneath heavy black–tinted cotton, making it look like dragon fire behind storm clouds.
My brothers‘ neon signs that spell out their gamertags are on opposite sides of the wall, along with my own. The three computers and a vast entertainment center with Gavin’s collection of gaming consoles, organized by year, starting with the Atari, are still here. I had insisted on the fluffy black carpet to match the storm.
They ended up liking it so much that they had to paint the walls black. It had been one of the rare times our dad spent the day with us. He bought neon paints for us to splatter all around. We all ended up paint–fighting. Mom was so mad until Dad got her.
I step out of the room, but before I can run back to my own, Ivar stops me.
“It’s okay to feel that,” he says gently. “I lost my best friend and my little sister, too. I like to go into Illene’s room all the time. It’s insulting to their memory to try to forget. Crying doesn’t make you weak. My brother taught me that. You know, the Lycan King who also lost his mother and mate that night.”
I look up at him and shrug him off. He drops his hand and lets out a heavy sigh.
“I would never try to forget them. I’ve had to deal with it by myself in this empty house without being able to move for almost two years. Crying doesn’t fix anything, Ivar. That’s a lesson I had to learn all on my own.
“Sometimes I can’t tell if I lost them or if I was abandoned here. I don’t expect you to understand. And the last thing I want to do is insult you, but when it comes to my brothers, kindly keep your mouth shut. I’ll be ready in twenty minutes.”
I go back to my room and inform everyone that I will be attending the party with a friend. I change into a pair of fitted, baby blue, high–waisted jeans and a pink, cropped hoodie. I swap out my clear septum piercing for a black one with a pink diamond heart. I slip on my white–and–pink checkerboard Vans.
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3:56 pm PDD.
Chapter 12
55 vouchers
It’s been a very long time since I’ve let my hair down. I take my French braid apart, allowing the waves to cascade down my back. I spray them with a leave–in conditioner and run my fingers through it to break apart the waves and add volume. I clean up my makeup and head out to wait for the prince that is nowhere in sight.
“My lady, would you like a snack before you leave?” Matilda, Ivar’s personal maid, approaches me with a tray of mini square sandwiches, juice boxes, and a pile of chips. I take a mini sandwich and a juice pouch, not wanting to decline.
“Thank you,” I smile at her.
She bows her head and walks away. I put the sandwich in my mouth so that I can try to put the little plastic straw into the box, only for it to snap. I groan, grabbing it from he bottom to pierce the stretchy foil part. The pointy end bends, and I have the insatiable urge to throw the box and the damn straw.
“Here,” I look up at Ivar as he snatches the box out of my hand and uses his pinky to pierce the circle. He takes the straw and then holds it up, annoyed with me. I finally take a bite of my sandwich. “You broke it.”
“I did,” I confirm.
“And you bent the tip.”
“I did also do that,” I nod. He laughs and sticks the straw in. He pauses when I smile and take it back. “What?”
“Who are you?” he laughs. I look down at myself and then back up at him.
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been wearing tights, knee–length skirts, button–ups, and cardigans with your hair up. Is this a statement?”
“Yeah, I go to one of the most prestigious schools in the world as a med student. I have to look the part. I have an amazing figure. This is what I wear recreationally,” I finish my sandwich. I watch him look me over again. “That wasn’t an invitation for you to check me out.”
“You have a fantastic figure. You don’t verbally invite anyone to check you out. It’s a given. If any guy has ever tried to sell you on some feminish bullshit, he’s just trying to get laid. I’m just surprised once again. There’s a shape to you. You know you can wear the cute socialite clothes without looking like a grandma?”
“Your brother definitely sent you away because you’re annoying,” I roll my eyes. He laughs and holds up a set of keys.
“He probably did. Also, I am borrowing the blue Mustang. I doubt Gavin minds,” he jingles the keys.
“That is my car, actually. Gavin built it as a gift for when I shifted. He also taught me to drive it.”
“Then why do you drive around in that pokeball?”
“It was also a gift. From my mom and my grandma. It’s rare because they never got along. And I don’t use the Mustang because I never shifted.”
“You have some deeply rooted issues that need a drink. I will be DD tonight so you can get plastered with your friends,” he grins.
“I don’t drink,” I motioned for him to go to the garage. He glares at me and leans in with his eyes slit.
“You are the most boring Helvig in existence,” he sneers,
“I am aware. I also can’t drink wolf liquor or beer because it’s poisonous to me. I’m an omega,” I remind him. “I went to the ER the first time I tried it.”
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Chapter 12
“Damn,” he steps back. “I’m sorry to hear that. I know a store in town that sells mortal beverages.”
“They don’t do anything to me. I’m still a werewolf,” I laugh.
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“You are the most infuriating person I have ever met. Fine, you’re DD,” he takes my hand and drops the keys onto my palm. “If anything happens to me, it’ll be on your head.”
“You’re supposed to be watching me, not the other way around,” I say, skipping over to the garage. He follows. “But you’ve got yourself a deal.”
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
