Today was Friday so tonight was my last chance but I just couldn’t see being able to earn almost five hundred dollars in tips in one shift.
Tomorrow my mom is going to be homeless and it’s all my fault, I thought, but didn’t say. I couldn’t tell Avery and the rest of my coven or even my guys about what was going on. I was too proud to admit how poor we were. I mean, I knew that they already probably had an idea, but I couldn’t let them know we were about to be homeless. Well, not me—I could still live at the school. But what was Mom going to do?
“A rough week, hmm?” Avery said, lifting an eyebrow at me and cutting into my dark and depressing thoughts. “Are you sure that’s all, Emmers? I smell a secret.”
Kaitlyn and Megan leaned forward, both giving me anxious looks.
“You can tell us if something’s bothering you, Emma,” Megan said.
“You can tell us anything,” Kaitlyn added. She put a hand on mine and squeezed reassuringly, then looked down at my fingers. “And your nails really are a mess. What have you been doing to them?”
“Nothing, honestly.” I sighed and crossed my arms, tucking my fingers in so nobody else could comment on my ragged nails. It was true, they had become my favorite chew-toys lately but that was just because I was so stressed out, I told myself.
“I think maybe Emma is just tired of being the center of attention after years of being nearly invisible,” Bran said, sitting down beside me.
“Well, I didn’t know her in the past, but she’s certainly not invisible now,” Lachlan said dryly, sitting down on my other side. “It is a full-time job protecting our lady from all the louts and idiots at this place. It’s a good thing I came—I don’t think you could have handled it all on your own,” he said to Bran.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Bran said, nodding.
If there was any tension between the two of them because of their different social standings—at least according to Fae standards—you couldn’t tell it at all. They took turns watching my back in different classes and worked together seamlessly when all three of us were together. I felt better between them—safer—though it still felt weird to have not one but two gorgeous guys wanting to be with me every minute.
“If all the unwanted male attention—which some of us can only dream of—is really bothering you, Emma, why don’t you have one of them Mark you?” Avery said.
“Mark me?” I squeaked, staring at Avery.
“Sure, why not?” He shrugged, as though it was no big deal to Mark someone. “Stop staring at me like that, Emmers—it’s not like I suggested you get Blood Bonded to one of them! The Mark of a Fae male on your forehead would be like a ‘keep off the grass’ sign to other guys.” He frowned. “Or maybe a ‘taken’ sign, is a nicer metaphor.”
“Thanks, Avery,” I said dryly. “Because it’s so much nicer to think of myself as a helpless female who has to be owned in order to be safe, rather than a piece of property to be marked with a warning. What’s next—should I wear a ‘no trespassing’ sign around my neck?”
“Actually, Avery is right,” Lachlan said, surprising me. He looked at Bran. “If one of us Marked her with our blood, it would repel other males—even mortals, though they wouldn’t be quite sure why they were backing off.”
“Yes,” Bran said quietly. “But which of us should be the one to Mark her?”
They looked at each other and for the first time I saw storm blue eyes clashing with emerald. The implication was clear—they both wanted me. And I had no idea which of them would win in a fight.
Up until that moment, the saving grace in my awful week had been that the three of us had been sticking together. Bran and Lachlan had been working as a team to protect me and there had been no acrimony between them. After having so many idiots hit on me and fight over me all week, I didn’t think I could stand it if my guys started in too.
“Why can’t you both Mark me?” I asked quickly, hoping to defuse the situation.
“What?” Bran asked, looking shocked and Lachlan barked laughter.
“Little one, you cannot be Marked by two males at the same time,” he said.
“Why not?” I demanded. “Why can’t you both Mark me?”
“Well…” Bran cleared his throat, as though trying to think how to discuss a delicate and difficult subject. “Marking, as sexist as it sounds, is a sign of possession—of ownership. You cannot be owned by two males at the same time.”
“Why not?” I asked again, frowning. “Why can’t the three of us, uh, own each other?”
“Because it’s never been done before,” Bran said, frowning.