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I check the gold watch on my wrist—a gift from my father on my eighteenth birthday. A traditional gift. Usually it would be engraved. Mine was not.
“Ever faithful to Lara, I see.” “A man does not drink from a toilet when he has fine wine at home,”
He’s got to be in his mid-forties at least, maybe even fifty. I’m twenty-one years old and a physical specimen. I think I can take him.
The punch is straight and true, direct into his jaw. A punishing blow that should knock him on his ass. It does . . . nothing.
“Do you want to go to the dance with me?” I say. “The Christmas dance?” Cat asks, as if there’s another one. “Yes,” I hiss, impatient and already regretting this. Regretting it because . . . if she says no, I’m going to have to burn this whole school to the ground.
I leave, my guts still churning with anger. But maybe just a little bit less than before.
“You know, Dean’s been acting halfway human lately. Maybe he’s grown up a little. Haven’t we all?” “Maybe . . .” Chay says slowly. “But you know, you can’t turn a wolf into a puppy.” “That’s alright.” I shrug. “I don’t want him to be a puppy.”
“I’m not a good enough fighter to be in your class,” I say. “I don’t know about that.” Snow smiles, closing his massive hand gently around mine. “Dean looks beaten into submission. The man’s wearing a bow-tie.”
“You look like you know how to get nasty . . .” he says, mouth full of sandwich. “How about it?” “What a tempting proposal,” Rakel says acerbically. “Unfortunately I’m already dating Joss Burmingham.” “That spotty little Spy? I’m way hotter than him.” “But he’s learned to chew, swallow, and then speak, so he’s got that going for him.”