Her Forbidden Mate

Won't break me

CAROLINE'S POV

--

My rigid bones are nearly breakable under the pressure of Mac's stealing glances, his piercing emerald hues are dark, but with the sunlight catching his eyes, it's almost silk-like. Lucian noticeably stiffens beside me every few minutes, every time Mac drags his fingers along my shoulder, over my hair, or brushes over my thigh. Professor Gillbert's deep voice and piercing honey eyes flit across the entire room every now and then. His dark brown hair has streaks of silver, but his face is flawless with a few scars here and there, light ones that have faded with time. He doesn't look a day over thirty-five, thanks to our slow aging abilities.

The class is almost over, and I've tried my best to take notes, even glanced at Lucian for help when I didn't understand, but it seemed like he wasn't going to offer his knowledge to me. By the time Professor Gillbert dismissed the class, I was still stuck seated between Mac and Lucian, who didn't dare to move, all the while Rust chatted with another beside him on the other side of Lucian. I slowly gathered my things, reading over the few notes I'd taken, buying time, waiting for them to stand, to let me leave, but as a few minutes passed and Mac and Lucian spoke over me about some sort of technique that Professor Walter had suggested once, I realize that I might be here for another while.

If I wanted to leave, I'd have to ask.

'Be bold,' Clara murmured, a soft push of confidence I needed to open my mouth and say, "Excuse me," I stand, but I'm yanked back down, but not onto the bench.

Onto Mac's lap.

"Where do you think you're going?" he stares at the side of my face all the while I stare at Lucian's wide, wild eyes. I look at him with a plea for help, to say something, anything, but he remains silent. A tug on my braid has me gasping lightly, and a deep, sinister laugh bubbles from his chest, a smile matching stretching across his face. "I have to get my next textbook," I murmur, and his fingers drag down my nape, tingling down my spine, my heart racing, drumming in my ears. My head becomes a haze of blind panic. The panic so wild, sending shivers into the marrow of my bones.

Lucian abruptly stands, "Leave your plaything," he scoffs, gathering his books. "We have other business to attend to," he sneers, and hops right over the desk, down into the next row, and makes his way out. Mac bounces his strong, toned legs, and I shoot out of his lap. He doesn't spare me another glance as he gets up and follows Lucian out. Rust brushes past me, his eyes so cold, so calculated as he stares into mine, and then leaves without saying a word. My bones shake as I stand in the now-empty building, a wave of relief threatening my knees to buckle.

How could Lucian just let that happen?

'He doesn't care,' Clara reminds me, the harsh truth has every inch of my body trembling in an ache.

I stop in front of my ajar bedroom door. I hadn't left it open. I made sure to close it. My heart races, my senses heightening, and then there's that smell. Lucian.

Anger bubbles beneath my skin, my nails digging into the hard covers of the books, my pulse racing as words of insult line up in my head.

'Don't,' Clara warns, her voice a mere rumble in my mind.

She's right.

I shouldn't show him I care, since he couldn't be merely bothered about his friend using me as a pet. I inhale a calming breath, forcing the air to expand my lungs. Entering the room, Lucian stands with his back to me, his hands tucked into his pocket, his broad shoulders stiff as he stares out of the window, standing at the side of my bed. My eyes roll when he doesn't even acknowledge me. Why is he even here?

It's an answer I would probably never have the privilege to know.

I ignore his presence like he ignores mine, and head over to my desk, placing my books down and sit. Huffing, his footsteps have the hardwood floors cracking and groaning beneath his weight. Stiffening, I force my shoulders to relax. I'd be damned if he notices how much he gets under my skin. I open my notebook, staring down at the writing, the scribbles and swirls taunting my eyes. I can't focus enough to read with him behind me, doing Goddess knows what.

A shadow falls over me, the heat of his body radiating off him onto my back. "I'm surprised you got so many notes written down," Amusement is thick in his tone, but I force my eyes down to the pages. It's hard not to react to how close he is. I hate not looking at him. He's a beauty like no other with thick brows and long lashes, his tanned skin rich with a coppery glow. His strong arms, those lines of muscles that sculpt him in a God-like build.

I know why he said that. He's trying to get me riled up. "Why?" I have to stay clueless, neutral.

Show no reaction.

'Show him we aren't his plaything,' Clara hisses, anger burning in my veins, my skin becoming hot.

The world spins, the legs of the chair scraping against the hardwood, and I wince at the sound, my heart tumbling out of my chest, shooting for my stomach, plunging deep into the hole as I face Lucian, his hands on the backrest of the chair. He spun it like I weighed nothing, like I'm not sitting in it. "Do you think you're funny?" he smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Do you think you can control me with your whorish acts?" His words stung like a blow to the cheek. "You don't control me, I don't care if you w***e around, but it will not be with my friends," he sneers, leaning in close, close enough to taste his breath.

Minty.

Staring up, I force my racing heart to slow. "Mac doesn't seem to mind my presence," I grin, staring up into those beautiful steel blues. "Mac's an i***t," he sneers, eyes flicking between mine. Wild and angry. "I don't want anything to do with you, or your friends. I'm not the one who needs a leash," I sound way more confident than I led on. My fingers are curled over the edge of the chair's seat, my nails digging into the wood beneath, grounding the swarm of emotions that are threatening to cripple me.

'If you break, I will break you.' Clara's threat is empty, but useful to push through, to keep holding onto that slither of pride. "A leash?" Lucian snorts, and I swear I could see some amusement in his eyes as it lit up for a split second.

"Yes," I seethe. I could feel the bones scraping as my knees rubbed together.

Control.

Breathe.

Think of anything else.

I pushed my mind toward my notes.

Lunias is more than two thousand years old.

There have been two wars.

The first war, the Gallo. It was for peace, which is strange since there hasn't been any except for the truce that was solely to protect the lives that were left.

The second war, against Allorwood, because they stole literal tons of gold.

We got it back.

"I'd suggest that to Mac, see what he thinks," Lucian threatened. I snort, shaking my head, "No, you won't." I had to stay bold, to throw the facts in the space between us. I need him to leave me alone if I am to avoid the soft, warm feeling in my chest at the sight of him. His beetling brows shot up in surprise, "Do tell me why I won't?" The challenge was clear, but I have to say it. I have to show him that he has no control over me, or my life. "Because you'd have to explain," I shrug, "Explain that you are bothered by my presence, bothered that your friend laid a finger on me." I keep my voice calm and strong. I rise from my seat, and he takes a step backward, almost stumbling, "You'd have to explain that I'm your mate." He growls slowly at the sight of my triumphant smile, and storms out.

Baffled, I stare at the space he was standing a mere second ago, pride blooming in my chest, Clara's howl echoing through my mind.

She was proud of me.

I can feel it.

--

Time seemed to peel away between classes, and Zyran has popped his head into my room, informing me that we once more had battle class, the class of technique, the class I was terrible in. I read through most of the terms in the text book, tried to memorize the movements that were described and pictured out, but I knew the second I stepped foot onto the courtyard that I'd fail this class, fail to learn anything, because Lucian strode up to me, and nodded toward the canopy of trees.

I followed, glancing back at Professor Walter, but he didn't seem to care, which means that he gave his blessing for this.

"Did you read the textbook?" I nod. "Do you know the techniques?" I shake my head. Lucian rolls his eyes, the whites bright as they appear in a flash, and is gone just as quickly.

Dark eyes narrow on me, "Are you stupid? Is that it?" his scowl and hurtful words chip at my heart, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of showing it.

Lucian will not break me, not today.

"Stance one," he rolls his eyes, getting in position, which I mirror. "What's its name?" It was easy enough to memorize the names to the stances, to the techniques, but to actually do them was another matter.

I answered nonetheless, giving him what he wanted, and by the time half an hour has passed, Lucian looked...pleased.

Which only confused me more.

The hour passed, and Lucian grabbed his bottle of water from the floor, dusting the bottom off before taking a swig.

"Why?" I ask, and he glances over the rim at me, lowering the bottle that has condensation dripping from the bottom onto the grass.

"Excuse me?" His gaze was hard and cold once more, directed at me with flames of fury. "Why do you insist on helping me?" I manage through my dry throat.

He shrugs, his eyes flitting to the rest of the class making their way into the building, and then back to me.

"If someone on my floor fails, I fail. I don't fail." He snaps and stalks off toward the building.

He just doesn't want to fail...

That's all it is.

I recite those words in my head all the way up to my room.

He just doesn't want to fail.