Reckless Souls (Saints Academy, #1)(32)
him and rolling her eyes before looking at the guy peering down at me. I turn my attention to him,
recognizing him from a few classes, but I’ve never spoken to him before. It’s the same old story, just a
different guy trying to claim me.
He gapes at Harmonia’s outburst, but I simply shrug, watching as he combs his fingers through his
brown hair. “What she said,” I add, pointing in Harmonia’s direction before scooping up the last of
my food and finishing my lunch. I watch as Harmonia raises an eyebrow up at the guy, waiting for him
to leave since he was clearly dismissed by both of us.
“Bitch,” he grunts under his breath, turning and stalking away from the table, and Harmonia
chuckles.
“You’re too kind!” I holler back to him, making sure he knows I couldn’t give a fuck about what
he calls me. He’s the one that approached me, likely knowing what the outcome would be. Somehow
thinking he might get a different response.
“See, I can do that all night long if I have to.” She looks down at her nails like she’s admiring her
handiwork by telling that guy to get fucked, and I can’t help but hide a smirk. “Whatever it takes for
you to get your ass out and have fun,” Harmonia pleads once more, and I swipe a hand down my face.
I do want to have fun, and party, and live my best life, and as I sit here looking around the dining
hall, I’m fucking pissed at myself for letting the circumstances, ones that I didn’t intentionally create,
back me into a corner.
Just as I’m about to turn back to Harmonia, my eyes fall on the center table where the Elites of
Saints Academy sit. Pretty much the only four guys who have given me a wide berth since I first
arrived.
Adonis, Xander Bishop, Khaos Black, and Zen Elias.
Curiosity got the better of me at the end of week one, and when no one was around, I glanced at
the wooden plaque in Agion that confirmed the names of each person in the hall. I didn’t specifically
know who was who out of Adonis’ friends, I just knew they were all dark and broody, except for the
guy with the mousy blond hair and constant whimsical smile on his lips. I prayed his name was Zen,
because it would really fucking suit him.
There’s been no sign of Adonis since my first day of classes. Not even a run in while using the
bathroom we share. I can’t deny they hold my interest, the way they carry themselves and interact with
each other. It’s like they’re a unit in their own little bubble, and we’re just all on the outside looking
in.
“Rhea?” Harmonia’s voice cuts through my thoughts, pulling me back to the table, and I offer her
an awkward smile.
“I have nothing to wear,” I simply state before taking a sip of my drink, thinking I have made the
dumbest excuse ever, and she full-on smirks at me. Busted.
“Girl, it’s a costume Halloween party, you know I’ve got you covered,” she replies, excitement
dancing in her eyes. “Tell me another reason you can’t come so I can get over all the hurdles and get
you to let your hair down,” she adds, and I can’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. It’s so damn
contagious.
Fuck it.
“If you make me dress as a slutty nun I’m not coming.”
“Oh, I would never.”
A devil.
I’m dressed as a fucking devil.
In a deep red sequin dress that clings to me like a second skin, horns on my head, tail attached at
the back, and a pitch fork in my hand, I look absolutely fucking ridiculous.
Harmonia doesn’t seem to think so, the girl was excited having a blank canvas to work with. She
even went as far as to paint my face with make-up, my lips stained red, and my eyes framed in the
same color too, with my hair falling down around my face in waves.
Admittedly, I do feel and look hot as sin in it, but it’s also completely wasted on these assholes at
Saints Academy. Not one interaction has really been about simple desire, since I caught Adonis
working himself over in the shower. Everything else seems to come with an ulterior motive, like
claiming me, and I’m not here for that. Not at all.
“We’re almost there, just on the other side of these trees through the opening,” Harmonia states,
pointing ahead. Of course she’s a fucking angel, just like her namesake says she should be. Her white
dress matches her hair, and clings to her body just like mine. But instead of the pitchfork, tail, and
horns, she has a halo and a harp.
I can only assume that the party is approved, but not allowed to take place on official Academy
grounds. We’ve been walking for ten minutes east of the main building, reaching the woods that cover
this area of the grounds, and moments later, the clearing widens, and the sound of music and laughter
starts to fill my ears. The protective bubble still shimmers above us, the safety of the Academy
blanketing us as we relax and unwind.
The woods have been sprinkled with tiny lights, offering a dim but manageable glow, while the
opening is much brighter, and as I step out into it fully, I notice a lake on the other side of the large