10 | She is ours
914 Words
Darcy
Alastair pulls back instantly. He smooths his shirt, his expression shifting from hungry predator to bored aristocrat in a nanosecond.
"Relax, Ronan," Alastair says coolly. "Just checking on our guest."
Ronan ignores him. He stalks into the kitchen, his bare chest glistening with sweat, his muscles flexing with every step. He stops in front of me. He smells like pure, raw aggression.
He doesn't look at Alastair. He looks at me. His golden eyes drop to my lips, where Alastair’s thumb was just seconds ago.
Ronan’s jaw clenches.
"We’re leaving in ten minutes," he snapped, tearing his gaze away in irritation. He stalked away from me, his shoulders rigid with tension.
(***)
The drive to school is suffocating.
When we arrive, the parking lot falls silent. It’s like a scene from a movie, but I’m not the heroine. I’m the victim.
Ronan, Damon, Alastair, and Amos step out of the SUV. They look like gods of war in their black blazers. I step out last, shrinking behind the tinted glass for a second before facing the firing squad.
As soon as my feet hit the pavement, the whispers start.
"Is that Darcy Allen?"
"Why is she with the Heirs?"
"I heard she drugged them."
"I heard she slept with all four of them last night."
The rumors are poisonous. They sting like wasps.
I keep my head down, clutching my backpack straps. I try to walk toward the main building, but the boys form a phalanx around me. They aren't walking with me. They are boxing me in. Like guards transporting a prisoner.
We make it to the cafeteria without incident, but I know it won't last.
"Sit," Damon orders, pointing to their table. The King’s Table.
"I can't sit there," I whisper. "Everyone is staring."
"Sit," Ronan commands. He doesn't use the Voice, but he might as well have.
I sit. The chair feels like an electric chair.
I try to make myself invisible, but it’s impossible. Across the room, I see her.
Bianca. The captain of the cheer squad. The girl who has been trying to get into Ronan’s bed since freshman year.
She is marching toward our table, her heels clicking aggressively on the linoleum. She looks furious.
"You," she screeches, stopping right in front of me.
The cafeteria goes dead silent.
"Excuse me?" I say, my voice trembling.
Bianca slams her manicured hands onto the table. "Don't play innocent, you little rat. Everyone knows what you did. You used some cheap Omega spell to trick them."
She grabs my water bottle from the table and uncaps it.
"You think you can sit at the King’s table?" she sneers. "You need a shower, trash."
She raises the bottle.
I flinch, squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for the cold water to hit me.
CRASH.
The sound of wood splintering echoes through the room.
I open my eyes.
The water didn't hit me. The bottle is on the floor.
And the heavy oak table—the one between me and Bianca—is flipped over on its side.
Damon stands there. He didn't just stand up; he flipped the entire table with one hand. His chest is heaving. His blue eyes are black with rage.
Bianca stumbles back, terrified. "Damon? I was just—"
"Did I give you permission to speak to her?" Damon asks. His voice is a low, terrifying calm before the storm.
"I..." Bianca stammers. She looks at Ronan for help. "Ronan, tell him! This freak doesn't belong here!"
Ronan stands up slowly. He brushes a crumb off his blazer.
He walks around the wreckage of the table until he stands between me and Bianca. He looks at the terrified girl, then lifts his gaze to scan the entire cafeteria. Every single student holds their breath.
"Let’s make one thing clear," Ronan says. His voice projects to every corner of the room without him needing to shout.
He turns and points a finger at me.
"She is not your friend. She is not your classmate. She is not someone you get to bully anymore."
He takes a step toward the crowd, his Alpha aura rolling off him in suffocating waves.
"She is ours" Ronan declares.
The word hangs in the air, heavy and absolute.
"She is our prey," Ronan continues, his golden eyes burning with possessive madness. "We are the only ones allowed to touch her. We are the only ones allowed to hurt her."
He turns back to Bianca, who is shaking like a leaf.
"If you ever look at her wrong again," Ronan whispers, loud enough for everyone to hear, "I will expel you myself. Do you understand?"
Bianca nods frantically and runs away.
Ronan turns to me. He reaches out and grabs my chin, forcing me to look up at him. The school watches, paralyzed.
"Don't think this is kindness, Darcy," he murmurs against my lips, sending a shiver of fear and desire straight to my core. "I just don't like sharing my toys."
He releases me abruptly.
"Now eat," he commands. "You’re too skinny."
He turns his back on me, acting as a human shield against the rest of the world.
I look at the food on the floor, then at the four backs protecting me.
I am safe from the school. But I am trapped with the monsters.
And the terrifying part?
For a split second, when he called me his, my heart didn't race with fear.
It raced with pride.
- Writer
