Serena

I’M HIDING. HIS ANNOUNCEMENT GUTTED ME. I can’t face the fact that he’s leaving. I have no right, but somewhere along the way, I fell for Tristan Gallagher. Hard.

Sobs break free from my chest, and I use my palms to wipe away the tears streaming down my cheeks. I’m devastated at the unfairness and cruelty of our world.

My door slams open and Tristan storms into the room, but immediately stops cold when he sees me.

“Are you crying?” he asks.

My heart disintegrates at the sound of his concerned voice, and I move a hand over my mouth to muffle another cry and turn away from him.

“Serena—”

I try to control my emotions and shaking.

“Look at me,” he demands.

I don’t. I can’t. I don’t want him to see my reaction.

Two warm hands grip my shoulders, forcing me to turn.

Tristan grips my chin between his fingers, lifting my face so he can look into my eyes. The intensity in his stare is unnerving. He’s reading me, trying to gauge my response.

The way he’s watching me forces me to attempt to control every breath and facial expression. I close my eyes and lean my head back, trying to get control.

It does no good.

He leans closer to my ear, his warm breath caressing the outside. “I like you,” he whispers.

“What?” I hiccup.

“I like you, Serena,” he repeats.

He moves back and our gazes collide.

“I like you too, Tristan,” I whimper.

He swallows and cups my cheeks. “I want to keep you.”

Another tear rolls down my cheek.

“I want to be kept by you.”

“The bond will wear off soon,” he assures me. “Then you’ll stop looking at me like I’m one of your dad’s cookies.”

“I know,” I sniffle, and hide a smile.

He steps back, runs his hands down my arms, and takes my hands into his. In silence we both stare at our hands.

The connection we have pulses through our palms.

“You need to stop looking at me with sexy in your eyes.”

“What?” I rear back.

“You have sexy in your eyes, raindrop. We’re not doing sexy anymore. You said it yourself, it was a one-time lapse in judgment,” his tone has turned teasing.

I exhale, grateful he’s trying to lighten the mood.

“As I recall, it was a multiple lapse.”

“Yeah?” He smiles with pride.

I smirk. “Congratulations. You can give me multiple orgasms. You aren’t the first, nor will you be the last.”

My words were meant to be funny, but his face darkens.

“Know this. If I could, I would risk it all to be your last.”

I suck in a sharp breath.

Inhale. Exhale.

He releases my hands and takes a step back.

“We’re expected at the Chancellor’s office in an hour.”

I nod. “I’ll get ready, then.”

He doesn’t look at me again. In one swift movement, he heads straight for the door, leaving me.

I’ve never in my life known this kind of sadness existed.

Tristan

I wait for Serena on my bike. We could walk, but just once I want to feel her body pressed against mine as we ride. It’s selfish, I know.

I wish things were different. That I could drive off campus with her and run away.

Seeing her upset like that knocked the breath out of me. It sucked all the strength from my limbs and stripped me of almost all of my resolve to walk away from her.

Serena St. Michael is it for me. Everything I’ve ever needed or wanted in another being. I never realized I was missing her in my life, until she stormed in.

Literally. In a rainstorm.

Saying goodbye to her—it’s going to take me down.

The door to her dorm opens, and she steps out and smiles at me. Her mask is firmly in place. I roll my shoulders and do the same. This is how our world works. We’re royalty. We don’t have the luxury of feelings. We’re here to serve, to protect, to safeguard.

I dip my chin as she approaches my bike.

“You want to take this?” she asks. “It’s only a mile.”

I shrug. “Safety reasons.”

She smiles and straddles my bike like a pro. “Okay.”

“Rulf is going to meet us there,” I let her know.

“He mentioned.” She wraps her arms around me and I close my eyes, basking in the feel of her. Damn, I’ll miss this.

Too quickly, we arrive at the castle.

I turn off the engine and we both sit, unmoving.

A second later, she slides off my bike, takes off her helmet, and hands it to me without a glance. I’d give anything to be able to read her mind right now.

Hoping to appear calm, I try to think of something professional and protector-like to say. All I come up with is, “They’re waiting.”

In silence we make our way around the winding stone hallways, up the grand staircase, and into Chancellor Davidson’s office.

Annabelle looks up from her computer and presents us with a warm smile. “It’s nice to see you again, Mr. Gallagher and Miss St. Michael.” She motions to the double doors. “You can go right in. They’re all awaiting your arrival.”

“Thank you,” Serena replies.

I push open the doors and the room falls silent, as several protectors turn their attention to us, looking stoic.

“Serena.” A warm, gentle voice greets.

“Mom!” Serena rushes into the waiting arms of Abby.

Abigail St. Michael can only be described as ethereal.

Her long, red hair falls over her shoulders as her tall form pulls Serena into a tight embrace. Abby squeezes Serena so hard, I can actually feel it through the bond.

Her sapphire eyes seek me out over her daughter’s head. “Tristan,” her mom acknowledges me with a kind smile.

“Hello, Abby,” I reply. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Abby frowns. “You look tired.” There is worry behind her eyes.

“I’m okay,” I assure Serena’s mom.

She nods and leans back, cupping her daughter’s face. All of a sudden her expression falls. “Have you been crying?”

“No, Mom. I’m fine,” Serena shifts.

“CALLAN!” Abby shouts, and in an instant he’s there.

“What’s wrong?” Callan’s voice is lined with concern.

Abby grips Serena’s face harder and shoves it at Callan.

“You see it?”

Callan’s brows droop over his eyes. He’s squinting while studying his daughter’s face. “What am I looking at?”

Abby sighs. “Her face, babe.”

They both stare at her as if she’s a newborn and they’re awaiting her first word. It’s awkward, and a bit adorable.

“It’s beautiful,” Callan plants a kiss on Serena’s cheek. “Just like her mom,” his grin widens.

“Not only did she just lie to me, but she’s been crying,” Abby points out, and murderous rage crosses Callan’s features as he slides his eyes my way.

Yeah. I’m the cause.

Serena pulls her hand out of her mother’s hands.

“Stop it. Both of you,” she sighs. “I. Am. Fine.”

Abby straightens. “You look blotchy.”

Callan nods his head. “She’s right. You do look blotchy.”

“Blotchy means you’ve been crying,” Abby continues.

“Remember those big red marks she would get on her cheeks when she wailed as a baby?” Callan looks at Abby.

“I do. It was so gross. And her snot would like drain out of her nose for hours without stopping,” Abby shivers.

Callan shoots a look to Serena.

“You were literally a snotty, gross baby, pumpkin.”

Serena exhales. “Thank you for that, dad.”

“I second that,” Rulf interjects, and my fists tighten at my sides so I don’t kill him for insulting her in front of everyone. It’s one thing when her parents joke, but not him.

“Miss St. Michael. It’s lovely to see you,” Chancellor Davidson greets Serena, and she gratefully steps away from her parents and offers him a quick hug.

“You too, Henry,” she replies.

She turns to the rest of the clan, offering pleasantries to both her uncles. Suddenly the door behind the bookshelf opens up, revealing Serena’s aunts McKenna and Eve.

“Stop it,” Eve whines, batting McKenna’s hands away.

“It’s stuck and you’re acting like an idiot,” McKenna snips. “By the grace, don’t struggle and I will fix it.”

I’m man enough to admit that Keegan’s mate, McKenna, scares me. Serena’s aunt Eve—she’s a different story.

“It wouldn’t be stuck if you didn’t push in into my hair in the first place,” Eve counters, presenting a dagger.

“What are you doing, siren?” Asher asks.

With a quick flick of her wrist, the knife swooshes, the sound cutting through the air. Eve turns and faces Asher holding up a few strands of hair stuck together with gum.

“Kenna!” Abby scowls. “Did you put gum in her hair?”

Kenna shrugs. “I was planning to throw it out, but the blood of Eden bumped into me. It’s her own fucking fault.”

“Love you too, cupcake,” Eve retorts, and throws the hair and chewed gum into the basket. Very queen-like.

“Is it always like this?” I ask Serena, stepping to her side.

Her shoulders sag.

“You have yet to experience a family dinner.”

“Hi,” Eve gives her niece a quick hug. “You okay?”

“I am,” Serena uses her fake happy tone.

McKenna snorts. “Hey, it’s the asshole.”

“Excuse me?” I reply.

McKenna holds her phone up, showing me her screen saver. It’s a photo of me, passed out, with the word asshole written across my forehead in permanent marker. No doubt Magali sent it the night they were drunk. Fantastic.

“Shall we get started?” Henry asks.

“We’re waiting for one more,” Asher says.

“Who?” Serena asks.

The double doors open, and in walks Gage.