(Rigel)
The very few rational thoughts that exist in my brain shut down completely when that Fuzzhead said that I hurt her and sent her to the infirmary.
’Shred him to pieces,’ my inner demons scread because I don’t want to accept the reality that I have hurt the only light that existed in my life.
The new instructor screams sothing to but my mind is too far gone to understand what he is saying.
My shadows shoot out of , like razor-shaped blades. The tall man with black hair and cold eyes stands in front of like an iron wall, dispersing my shadows. They bounce back, unable to pass through him or his aura.
It’s as if he has sohow cancelled mine.
How?
"Calm the fuck down before I plumt you to the ground," he warns in a deadly voice. His hands stretched towards , but they didn’t touch. The man is as tall as I am, with ice in his eyes and muscles that seem to be forged from iron.
"Why don’t you try?" I heave, seeing nothing but red. My eyes dart towards that redhead and his friend is holding him back.
But I can see the smirk he holds. He has instigated on purpose.
"Afraid?" He mocks.
Before I can attack him again, Amaia’s soft arms wrap themselves around my waist.
"Don’t!" She softly but urgently says. So of that accumulated hatred instantly dials down. "Please, calm down."
My shadows retreat at her voice, hovering over her like a protective shadow as my eyes find her.
Unadulterated pain stares back at . I can’t even imagine how difficult it is for her to see us fighting like that.
That insane bloodlust slowly dissipates as she keeps holding and none of us move.
"Detention for the three of you. You will go to the Paper Room and sort out papers while resolving your differences. And yes, I am putting crystals so none of you can use magic or shift," the new professor gives his verdict, fuming.
I don’t care about stupid detention but I care about this woman in my arms and causing her harm.
My hands weave into her soft hair, keeping her close to , soaking in her warmth.
"Follow ," he instructs, and Amaia grabs my hand, pulling behind the man.
"Ali, stop causing trouble," the lean boy I had fought in the training arena reprimands the redhead. They follow behind us.
I had an idea that he was Amaia’s mate too because of his possessiveness towards her, and how she always stays closer to him.
"Amaia!" I begin and she lets out a fractured breath. "I am sorry for hurting you." The thought has invaded my brain like a virus.
She stays quiet, just dragging along with her and I willingly follow. Even if she were to take to the gallows I will willingly go.
We arrive outside what appears like an office with a slightly battered door. The rigid professor turns towards us and sternly says.
"Stay here."
He pushes the door open and enters, banging it behind him. He couldn’t be much older than and seeing him bark orders at just annoys even more.
"Amaia?" The mutt calls her, and tenderness is so prevalent in his voice.
"Not right now," she answers in a controlled voice.
She presses the bridge of her nose and closes her eyes as if trying to collect her thoughts and not spiral because of us.
Our gazes collide again and he appears to be fuming because she is still holding my wrist.
The door swings open and the burly professor returns holding a stack of papers. He appears less like a professor and more like a bodyguard.
"Inside and this detention won’t end until you resolve whatever these mate differences the three of you are having." He then fully turns his attention towards the golden eyes.
"Alnitak, I am telling your mother."
His eyes widen, and his mouth hangs open.
"No, you won’t. We are visiting her tomorrow, and I will inform her myself. Don’t snitch on , man."
They pass so silent ssage through their gazes and the professor turns towards the lean boy.
"Co, Kacir. Let’s go." The boy throws one worried look at Amaia and she assuringlyly smiles at him before he leaves.
Like three defeated souls, we enter the Paper Room and find a stern-looking woman with glasses waiting for us. She has an old typewriter, lying on a wooden desk in front of her. Her long fingers are rapidly typing on it.
"Start from there. Stack the blue papers in blue files, silver in silver, black in black and white in white according to alphabetical order," she boredly tells us and takes off her glasses.
"And no funny business, you wouldn’t want to test ," she says wickedly this ti.
"We surely don’t, Mauve." Alnitak winks at her, showing his charms. I want to barf.
The woman nad Mauve with bright red hair, waves at him with her hand.
"Hush! Ali. You know you are my favourite but you are in detention. So, chop chop." She points towards the ss in the corner where several tables are stacked with all kinds of papers and files.
Amaia moves ahead and sets herself to begin the task. She starts with red papers and begins to sort them with a scowl on her cute face. I could just sprawl on this table and kiss her until that scowl will lt away. But sothing tells she won’t appreciate it.
Instead, I shuffle away so of the papers and climb onto the table and sit near her.
The third wheeler, like an annoying child, drags a chair closer to my goddess and sits beside her.
She ignores both of us and continues with this detention which she has been placed in because of us.
"You are mad at ," he asks, leaning back in the chair and watching her like a puppy looking for pats.
She pauses and gives both of us annoying stares, one after the other.
"Yes. Both of you. Acting like immature brats. Fighting over as if I am possession you need to win at an auction. It’s exhausting." She snatches in a pained breath and I feel her pain inside my own heart.
I have hurt my mate...
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