Veiled Spirits

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Izzy.” Bishop leans forward and rests his arms on his knees as he talks. He turns his head to stare at my hunched-over form. His piercing blue eyes study me, seeing far more than I want him to.

“I do. Feelings are gross, and I got them all over you.” I gesture to his tear-soaked shirt.

Bishop and Levi both chuckle.

“Feelings aren’t gross,” Levi insists. “They’re part of the human experience. The ability to feel things so strongly, whether it’s joy, sorrow, rage, love, grief, or anything else, is what makes humans, well, human. These feeling are what make life worth living. The hope and love and joy are stolen moments in time you remember to help you get through the moments of grief and sorrow and pain. Without feeling, life would be a bland shadow of what it’s supposed to be.”

“Jesus, dude. Warn me before you get all philosophical and shit,” I say in an attempt to deflect. I don’t want either of them to know just how much I do feel. If they knew how hard it was to push them away, then they might push back harder. I don’t know if I’m strong enough to resist my mates if they really wanted me. To solve that problem, I just act like a raging asshole.

“Dinner’s ready!” my mom calls from the back door, saving me from having to say anything else.

I hop up from the bench and stride to the door, guitar in hand. When I don’t hear footsteps behind me, I turn back to Levi and Bishop. “You boys coming inside or what?”

“Anywhere you go, little raven, I’ll follow,” Levi tells me as he stands.

“Always, sweetheart. I’ll always be by your side,” Bishop declares.

Why do I get the feeling they’re talking about more than heading inside for dinner?

CHAPTER 17

IZZY

I’m walking out of my last class of the day, ready to head to my date with Luca, when I get bodychecked into a wall. I hit the wall hip and shoulder first, and I groan when the bony areas make contact with the hard wall. The rough brick scrapes me through my white lacy tank top, though my jeans keep my hip scratch-free.

I totally didn’t dress up for my date with Luca. It’s just a coincidence that I’m not wearing my usual baggy T-shirt tucked into ripped jeans. Even if I were dressing up for the wolf, I still refuse to don impractical footwear. If I can’t sprint in it, I’m not wearing it. So, I’m rocking my trusty white Chucks, as usual.

“Stay away from Bishop St. James, vilis,” Danielle hisses at me. She’s in my personal space and glaring up at me from a few inches away. Madison and Tina stand behind her with matching sneers twisting their faces. “Bishop is mine. He’d never want a disappointment like you, anyway.”

I can’t contain my snort. Of all of my ninety-nine problems, Bishop not wanting me isn’t even remotely one of them. In fact, it would knock off at least three problems from my list if he didn’t want me and didn’t know I have magic.

“You think this is funny?” Danielle sneers. Her face turns red in anger as she moves even closer to me. “Bishop would never marry a slut like you.” Mages aren’t big on waiting for fated mates. Instead, most mages marry for power and status. We’re the only supernatural race I know of that has zero respect for fated mates.

I choke on my laugh this time, making a weird wheezing sound. I’m many things, but a slut isn’t one of them. It’s kind of hard to be one when I’ve never slept with anyone. Bishop came back into my life when I was fourteen. We knew each other as kids, but he moved away when I was seven, right before my magic came in. Even though I won’t mate with him, I refuse to fuck around on him.

Banging him or any of my other mates is out of the question because it can trigger a mate bond. Mages bond through a power exchange. Shifters bond through mating bites. Vampires bond through swapping blood. And all the other races have a unique way they bond. While fucking doesn’t cause the bond, it can be hard to resist the urge to bond in the heat of the moment.

Not that Danielle should be calling anyone a slut. If a woman wants to sleep around, more fucking power to her. Get it, girl. Tap that shit. Boink that hottie.

I giggle to myself at my thoughts, which only makes Danielle more enraged. She shoves hard on both of my shoulders. My head smacks against the wall painfully. When I stop seeing stars, I straighten and level Danielle with a glare. “Put your hands on me again, and I’ll fucking break them. This is your only warning.”

Danielle visibly pales at my threat. While she isn’t the sharpest bulb in the toolshed, she apparently has enough sense to realize when someone can and will follow through on promised violence.

With one last nasty look, she backs up. Danielle and her minions flounce away as I sag against the wall. I take a few calming breaths as I shove my magic down. It gets really angsty when other mages get physical with me.

After a moment, I straighten, readjust my backpack on my shoulder, and head toward the front of Gallagher Hall. I’m not dreading my date with Luca as much as I thought I would be. Sure, I don’t particularly want to spend time with him, but it’s because I could actually like him. The big wolf isn’t as much of a jerk taco as he seemed at first.

When I step out of the building, I immediately spot Luca in his green tee and dark jeans. He’s kind of hard to miss when he towers over everyone and out muscles all the mage guys by at least fifty pounds. Luca’s blond hair is cut short and perfectly styled as usual. His aquamarine eyes lock on me as soon as he spots me.

I march over to the colossal man and stop in front of him. I have to crane my neck to make eye contact with him, he’s so tall.

“How was your day?” Luca asks, peering down at me with a small smile. His blond stubble highlights his sharp jaw and angular features. He has no right to be that damn attractive. It’s cheating.

“Fan-fucking-tastic, wolf boy,” I reply as I slap my hands on my hips. “How was yours?” At least he didn’t call me a problem this time. That’s progress, I guess.

He snorts. “Why do I get the feeling that was sarcasm?” He grabs one of my hands with his massive one and tugs me toward the visitor lot. When I go with him willingly, he looks at me with surprise. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I don’t turn everything into a fight. Just most things.

Luca lets go of my hand briefly, and I feel a flash of disappointment. I don’t have time to chastise myself for it before Luca recaptures my hand. He intertwines our fingers, and butterflies riot in my stomach. I’m turning into a major sap if a little hand holding has me twitterpated. “Because that’s my default setting, duh.”