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DEAN
Cat stays overnight in the infirmary.
I was only able to sit beside her for an hour before Professor Howell came and hollered at me for not reporting back to him, then booted me out of the infirmary and sent me out to the field to clean up the mess left from the competition.
Due to the interruption of the Sophomore tower delaying our team, the Seniors retrieved their flag first, and the Freshmen second. It doesn’t matter—we still beat the Sophomores and secured our place in the next round.
By all accounts, Lola Fischer threw a tantrum over her elimination, blaming Cat for their loss.
I’d like to fucking strangle her for sending Cat up there in the first place.
By the time I help the grounds crew haul off every last scrap of lumber, it’s fully dark and too late to try to visit Cat again.
When I return to the infirmary in the morning, Sasha tells me that Cat left early so she could clean up and attend class as normal.
I track Cat down between first and second period.
She looks relatively revived, other than the scrapes and bruises all down her arms, and the bandage on her forehead. Her uniform is nicely pressed, and I can’t help but notice her leather collar peeking out from the neck of her blouse. The sight gives me a Pavlovian thrill.
“Why didn’t you come find me?” I demand. “I was worried about you.”
Cat smiles. “I figured we’d see each other tonight.”
“You want to meet me in the Bell Tower?” I say, in an undertone because I don’t want the passing students to overhear. “I thought you’d take a few days off.”
“I’m fine,” Cat says. “I don’t need any days off.”
My pulse quickens and I feel my cock swelling, aroused by the fact that Cat isn’t using her accident as an excuse to avoid me. Shewantsto meet me tonight.
“Nine o’clock?” I say.
“Of course.” Cat nods.
Then, to my astonishment, she winks at me and heads off to class with a flirtatious little flick of her skirt.
It occurs to me that when I first met Cat, I mostly observed her while she was stressed or scared. Often due to my own behavior toward her. Now that she’s relaxing a little . . . she’s actually quite playful.
I like it. She’s teasing me and even flirting with me, like she’s trying to get a rise out of me.
If she wants to poke the bear, I’m happy to show her how beastly I can be.
All in good time, however. I don’t believe she’s fully recovered. I’ll have to be careful tonight, even if the sight of her in that plaid skirt and collar has already whipped me into a fever pitch with hours yet to go before I’ll see her again.
I’m in such a mood of anticipation that I don’t immediately snap Vanya Antonov’s neck when he deliberately slams into me in the hallway of the Keep.
“Watch it!” I say, more annoyed than infuriated.
“It’s you who better watch yourself,Dmitry,” Vanya sneers, as Silas and Bodashka join him in crowding around me. “It’s your fault we placed last in the challenge. If you hadn’t been distracted by your little pet?—”
“Say one more word and I’ll knock your teeth down your throat,” I snarl back, getting right in Vanya’s face, not giving a fuck that it’s three-on-one in the otherwise deserted hallway. I’ll fight all three of these assholes and every other friend they’ve ever met.
“Where do you get that arrogance, Dmitry?” Bodashka hisses. “When your father’s a gargoyle and your grandfather’s a fucking disgrace?”
I switch my attention to Bodashka, seizing the front of his shirt and pulling back my fist to execute my threat on his face instead.
Until I hear the sharp sound of someone clearing their throat.
Vanya and Silas step back, as if they weren’t just about to leap on me from all sides.
