Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals! novel Chapter 238

Chapter 238: 238. Too Much Damage

Maisie

Quinlan stumbled, grabbing his jaw and stretching it like he wasn’t sure it was still attached to his face.

"You really want to do this here? Because you’re too much of a pussy to admit you wished you had fucked and marked her first? Oh, I forgot. Mommy dearest wouldn’t approve, would she now?"

Mercer lunged for Quinlan, who ducked and grabbed Mercer, hurling him across the hallway. Mercer crashed into the lockers, shattering the metal and the walls behind it, and the students scattered.

"Stop it," I said, but I might as well not have been there.

My mouth dried as I watched them. I’d seen them throw jabs at each other and fight like children over small things, but never in public. Not like this.

In the blink of an eye, Mercer was on his feet again, eyes black. "I’m the pussy? At least I didn’t spend nine months drowning at the bottom of any bottle I could find and snorting lines of shit to forget, only to crawl back to the same pussy that called you a whore’s son."

I froze. I did what?

Quinlan moved faster than I could track and be slammed Mercer into the locker so hard, the entire front row dented. "Shut your damned hole, rotting bastard."

"Stop!" I yelled when Mercer headbutted him. The crack of bone against bone made my stomach turn. Quinlan staggered, and Mercer drove a knee into his stomach hard enough to lift him off the ground.

They didn’t hear me, didn’t even see me.

Quinlan recovered and threw a punch that would have caved Mercer’s face in. Mercer caught it, twisted, and they collided again with a force that shook the floor.

I saw the next blow coming. Mercer’s fist drawn back, Quinlan’s claws already out and I threw myself between them.

My back hit Quinlan’s chest hard. My hands slammed against Mercer’s, fingers spreading over the front of his shirt as I tried to hold him back. For one second I was completely crushed between them as they continued to reach for each other around me. Through me.

The air left my lungs in a sharp, painful rush.

"Stop it," I pleaded, voice cracking. "Both of you. Please."

Mercer’s black eyes dropped to my face. Quinlan’s chest was heaving against my back. They were both shaking, their bodies burning hot like furnaces, and only then did I realize how cold I felt. How alone.

Whatever emotion Mercer found in my eyes made him pause. And then his sneered at me. "What do you care? The only thing you’ve ever cared about is yourself."

I swallowed thickly, fighting the sting in my eyes and the hurt squeezing around my heart. "You’re not the only one lost. Believe it or not, I lost everything, too."

He scoffed. "Touching words from a lying, forked tongue." He smacked my hands away from his chest like they disgusted him, and stalked down the hallway angrily.

I blinked back the tears that had gathered in my eyes at some point. And I turned to Quinlan.

His blue eyes were all-consuming and my stomach tightened at the sight of his split, bleeding lip.

I had no idea when I reached up to touch him. Or when my thumb swiped over the blood on the corner of his lower lip.

But he flinched, catching my wrist and ripping it off his face like the contact burned him. "Don’t touch me."

"Quinn—"

His nostrils flared, and the look he gave me was colder than anything I’d ever seen on his face. "I never would have touched you last night if I was in my right mind. I was high. I don’t even remember half of it. You could’ve been any of the many whores I pay to fuck. It meant nothing."

My bottom lip quivered.

He took one step closer. My Lycan made a soft, wounded sound in the back of my mind. "Let this be the last time you consider yourself important enough to come between us," he said softly. "You are a stranger. Know your place."

I blinked hard once, twice, trying to keep my face from falling. He didn’t wait for a response before his shoulder slammed into mine as he bent, grabbed his fallen bag and walked away.

My head hung and my finger curled into fists. The same pussy who called you a whore’s son.

The words kept echoing in my head and it all felt... too much. There was too much damage between all of us, wounds so deep I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to begin closing them. I still didn’t know the full extent of what the Queen had done, but every day seemed to reveal something new, something ghastly and disgusting. And somehow, she knew the right words to say to make it hurt. She knew all of their insecurities and was playing on them.

Whore’s son.

My throat tightened to the point of pain. I had never thought such a thing, never looked at him that way, not to speak of writing it in words. Gods above.

Oink.

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