Fallen University: Year Three

“The Custodians are proof of that.” I heaved a sigh. “What’s taking them so long anyway? I thought they would have rushed in here with law books to throw at us weeks ago.”

“They’ve been really slow about all kinds of things,” Hannah said. “Most of us still don’t know whether or not we actually passed our last set of exams. They got through enough third years to boost their numbers, then just sort of—stopped dealing with us.”

“Earth must be crawling with Gavriel’s demons.” I tapped my fingers anxiously on the table. Then I sat up, injecting false cheer into my voice. “But at least we have homework to keep us

occupied.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled about that,” Kingston said. Then he rested his hand on my leg, sliding it over my thigh in a gesture that was meant to be reassuring but sent sparks of pleasure shooting through me. “What’s the matter?”

Unable to stop myself, I turned to him and kissed him, letting myself sink into it.

Fuck it. The whole school hated me already. If they didn’t like my frequent public displays of affection with my guys, they could just look the other way. No one ever sat near us anyway.

He returned my kiss, sliding his hand farther up my thigh, and his responsiveness made a warm glow light in my chest. There was a time when he would’ve pulled away or resisted. But that time was so far in the rearview mirror that I could barely remember it.

When we finally broke apart, we were both a little breathless. My other men shot heated glances in my direction, and Hannah didn’t even bat an eye. She was used to this by now and was just happy for me that me and my guys weren’t struggling against the bond anymore.

Before I could draw away too far, Kingston squeezed my leg. “You never answered my question, Pipes. What’s wrong?”

“Ugh. I don’t know, man.” I blew out a breath and shoved a hand through my hair. “It just feels pointless. I mean, I get the combat and underworld classes. We might actually need to know that shit. But the rest of it? It’s fucking useless. We’re just going through the motions, waiting for the guillotine to drop. Like, who cares which vampire turned Marie Antoinette when they’re next in line for her fate? We’re about to be banished to the underworld just like she was.”

“Maybe the delay means they’re going to let it be,” Hannah suggested encouragingly. “After all, it’s clear that everything you did was done for the right reasons.”

“But, rules,” I said with a sigh. “They’re sticklers for the fucking rules.”

“Rules can be bent. Broken, even. Try not to worry about it too much.”

“Sure.” I drew in a breath and let it out through my nose, trying to tamp down the bitterness in my voice. “No worries here. All peaches and cream. Everything’s hunky-fucking-dory.”

Then my facade cracked, and I groaned, sliding my forearms over the table and dropping my head down on them. My voice was muffled when I spoke again.

“God, I just want it to be over.”

Chapter Eleven

You know how they tell you to be careful what you wish for?

Yeah. That.

Because the very next day—a month after our return from the underworld—we were all in the shunned corner of the cafeteria, minding our own damn business and eating real, earthly food when Toland walked in. He locked gazes with me and started to make his way over to us.

“Oh, shit. Heads up, guys,” I hissed. My pounding heart seemed to shake my entire rib cage.

Hannah and the guys stopped eating and followed my gaze. The lines on Toland’s face were deeper than usual, and he was just the tiniest bit gray around his eyes and mouth.

Uh oh. That can’t be good.

“You’re wanted in my office,” he told us when he reached our table.

“By you?” I asked hopefully.

He just shook his head and turned around. “Now, please.”

My stomach dropped. This is it.

Toland’s office had been reorganized to accommodate ten chairs—five against one wall and five in the center of the room facing those, with his desk bridging the gap on one side. He gestured for us to take the chairs against the wall. I sat in the center, flanked by my men, holding Xero and Kai’s hands.

“Who are those chairs for?” I asked.