Poison Throne: A Dark College Romance(33)

Yeah, best I didn't think about that.

"Not out yet," Mattie said, sounding triumphant. "Did you get any messages?"

I'd switched my palm reader to silent when I went into the meeting with Dean Morgan, not wanting any interruptions, and had completely forgotten to switch it back again.

The moment I slid my finger across the button to release the do not disturb mode, the reader went fucking insane. One buzz after another. Each sounding angrier than the last.

Fuck.

We were at the lockers now, and holding my breath, I stepped forward, pushing the door to open up the room. It was dark inside, no sounds of any players or coaches.

Fucking fuck.

"They're gone," I said to Mattie. "We're in big trouble."

She held both hands up, face drawn as she looked at me. "What's this we? There's no we! I'm not strong enough to handle that punishment. You're going to have to take one for the team... since this was your idea and all."

She was so dramatic in her freaking out, but then again, knowing the boys as I did... was it really dramatic?

"Where is my badass best friend?" I asked, hands on hips. "Come on, you took on the Australasian king for me."

Mattie scoffed. "I would take on a prehistoric fucking creature for you. But I won't take on Rafe."

Well, damn. Guess I couldn't really fault her for that. Velociraptors had nothing on my prickly prince.

"Okay, new plan," I said in a rush, having just spotted the furious faces of the princes at the end of this hall. "What are the odds we can escape, change our names and identities, and live as exotic dancers for the rest of our lives?"

Rafe locked me in his gaze, and I gulped, unable to tear my eyes from him. Mattie turned slowly, her eyes wide and shiny. "Think it's too late for that, but if you want to run, I'll try and hold them off."

That almost brought a tear to my eye. "You're the bestest friend ever."

Mattie nodded. "I know. Now run, babe."

I wouldn't leave her to face them alone. Even if I was the one Rafe and Jordan would be pissed at the most. And I couldn't really blame them. It had been risky to go off on my own, I knew that, but I’d just needed that dealt with. Plus, time had run out to see Alex if we wanted him at the vote.

"Rafe looks really mad," Mattie said. "It was nice knowing you."

I snorted. "He's not going to kill us."

Right?

The way he was stalking along the hall, Jordan just behind him and Nolan trailing last, I wasn't sure that was strictly true. I'd seen Rafe mad before... but not like this.

Maybe I should run.

"Don't even think about it," Rafe rumbled, only a few feet away. He must have noticed the panicked look on my face as I glanced behind to the only possible escape path.

"I can explain," I said in a rush, holding my free hand up. The other one was still tightly clutched in Mattie's—I was pretty sure one of us was sweating.

Rafe didn't give me a chance to expand on that statement, his hands wrapping around my waist so fast that I couldn't even catch my breath before I was over his shoulder, my hand torn from my best friend’s as he marched down the hallway.

Over his shoulder, I saw Mattie's wide eyes, but Rafe was stomping so fast that she was gone from sight in the next few minutes.

"It'll be fine," I heard Nolan say, and then we turned a corner and I heard nothing else.

"Rafe, come on. I was gone for ten minutes," I said, trying to reason with him.

No answer, and I could practically feel his fury radiating off him in waves of heat.

"I was fine."

Still nothing and now I was starting to get annoyed. It wouldn't be that hard to free myself from his Neanderthal-caveman hold, but I decided to give him one last chance.

"Dude, you are not my father. Put me right the fuck down and let's talk about it."

He ignored me, his strides getting longer and angrier as he moved through the school. Faces were gaping at us, clearly not sure what to make of the most powerful prince in the world carrying me around in this way.

Rafe and I were too pissed to care though.

"One," I said, starting to count when we reached the entrance to the soccer field. "Two... I'm giving you to five and that's it."

He picked up speed. "Three."

Faster and faster, we were across the empty field now.

"Four, motherfucker."

I was going to enjoy making him hurt.

"Five."

At five he dumped me on my ass, right on the thick fighting mat in his private little gym. Curls fell across my face as I jumped to my feet, and I pushed all my hair out of the way so I could glare with the full force of my anger.

"What the fuck, Rafe? You don't get to manhandle me whatever way you want."

Before I could spit more words at him, he wrapped his hands around both of my biceps and powerwalked me back until I hit the wall. "You belong to me," he whispered, threateningly. "Mine. And until you learn to fucking listen to me..."

His lips were pressed together, the fullness thinned with his anger.

"What?" I asked, swallowing hard to hide my fear and arousal. "What will happen if I don't learn?"

Rafe's teeth pressed against his lip as it curled up, and I fought against the urge to lean forward and bite into the softness as well. When he got all alpha, it did shit to me that I couldn't explain. Maybe I was broken or something, but at times, his overprotective rage was like pre-sex porn. It turned my body against me, and against my better judgement I wanted his punishment now.

"Looking at me like that won’t save you today, Violet," Rafe warned.

Jesus. "Let's fight about it."

His pupils dilated, his hard cock lodged firmly between us as he stared. "Fight?"

I nodded, trying to catch my breath. "One fight. If I win, you shelve the punishment."

"And if I win?"

I was really going to fucking regret this.

"You have free rein to fuck me up however you want. I won't fight you at all."

I had him.

He stepped back, and as he did, I noticed Jordan enter the room. He didn't look as angry as Rafe, but for my gentle prince, there was a lot of darkness across his brow. And he'd clearly heard my suggestion.

"You sure you want to do this, Vi?" he asked, stepping right up until he was behind Rafe.

I nodded. "Yeah. I've wanted to try my hand against Fallen Angel for a long time. Seems now we have the perfect opportunity." Jordan nodded, and my heart hurt a little. "I'm sorry I worried you."

Rafe's face went darker, if that was possible.

"I thought I'd be back before you were finished, and we need Alex at that vote. He agreed to go." I wasn't making it better. If anything, they both looked angrier than ever.

Time to shut my mouth and find my Violence persona.





Chapter 28





Jordan let out a frustrated sigh but just folded his arms and leaned his back against the wall. "I'm not stopping this because you two need to deal with your shit," he told us, and Rafe grunted a sound of approval.

I heard some irritated subtext there though. "But?" I prompted, holding his gaze and doing everything possible not to pay attention to Rafe. That was basically impossible with his hard dick still crushed between us and my panties growing damper by the second... but I owed it to Jordan to at least try.

"But you only have forty-five minutes until the formal Honor Cup dinner. That means I'm giving you thirty minutes to get this shit sorted and fifteen minutes to clean up and change. Understood?" He arched a brow at me, and when I nodded, he shifted his gaze to the back of Rafe's head.

"Thirty minutes will be more than enough... this time." Arrogant son of a bitch. "It'll only take five minutes to hand Cinderella her ass, then I’ll have twenty-five left to show her what happens when she repeatedly disobeys me."

Jordan made a sound, and Rafe's gaze flicked to his friend for a second, then locked back on me. "Us," he corrected. "You promised Jordy you'd stop scaring him like that. And now look where we are." There was a dark, purring tone to his voice that said he was way too fucking excited about this fight. Or maybe he was excited to win? Well... it wasn't happening.

"Get on with it then," I snarled, shoving him in the chest to move him away a step. Because holy shit, if he kept grinding that dick on me, the only fight happening would be over who got to be on top. Him, preferably. I loved when he fucked rough.

Rafe let out a low chuckle, stepped away to create space, and adjusted his erection in his pants. Fair enough, I wasn't above fighting dirty and that was an all too tempting target sticking out like it had been.

"You staying, bro?" he asked Jordan, turning his back on me in a painfully obvious trap, as if I was that fucking dumb to try and attack while he was "distracted" with Jordan. Crock of shit. He was taunting me.

Jordan gave a short nod. "I'll stay and make sure you don't kill each other." He eyeballed Rafe hard. "Violet's face is totally off limits, Rafe. The last thing we need is her showing up at the dinner tonight with a black eye. She only just healed from the last bruise, too."

I grinned at the fact that Rafe was being given limitations but I wasn't. On a deeper level, though, I recognized the line Jordy was drawing. Sparring was totally fine, beating each other up was not. We were competitive, violent, and altogether fucked up. But we were not abusive.

"What, but she can hit my face?" the Swiss prince asked, joking. He’d definitely heard the same subtext as I had.