Chapter 3 _ A new Friend
Chapter Three
ASHER
I stood transfixed in the doorway, my chest a messy tangle of emotions. Embarrassment. Shame. Anger. Even the tiniest flicker of lust, which I immediately stomped out. All because Devon’s furious gaze was on mine.
I hated how after everything he’d done, after all the things he said about me over the years, I could still find him so damn attractive. I mean, some of that was genetics; the guy had been biologically predisposed to making women pant even when we’d met as teenagers. But now, he was all grown up. Towering six-foot-something frame, heavily muscled sun-bronzed skin with hints of . . . was that black ink teasing from the one open button of his flannel? Shaggy golden-blond hair practically begged you to run your fingers through it, and his chiseled jaw, covered in a slightly darker five-o’clock shadow, promised you’d feel his kisses for days after. Even narrowed in anger, his green eyes still made me want to discover their secrets.
If his looks alone weren’t enough to make a woman drop her panties, all that big dick alpha energy would. His aura conveyed how utterly savage he’d be protecting those that belonged to him. Too bad my shortcomings kept me from falling under that umbrella. No, Devon Bassett had made it perfectly clear just how beneath him he thought I was. Time and time again.
But hadn’t I been the one who rejected him in the first place?
“Mademoiselle Callaway, if you make me stop and wait for you again, I’ll leave you here to figure out your living arrangements on your own. I know you’ve been raised to believe that the world revolves around your schedule and whims, but it doesn’t. Not here. Do not waste my time.”
My gaze snapped to Chloe 's face and the pinched, slightly annoyed expression she’d worn ever since I pulled up. “I’m sorry, Chloe .”
“That’s Madame Headmistress to you. Now, come along.”
My feet hastened to obey without my conscious command. Geez. Madame Moody here could teach grandfather a thing or two. They’d probably get along like a house on fire. I smiled to myself. If they didn’t kill each other first.
“Something funny, Mademoiselle Callaway?”
“Nope.”
She gave me a long, withering glare and then took off up a set of stairs leading to a building that seemed to have pride of place among the others in the courtyard. I only had a second to read the plaque declaring it Hawke Hall before she was ushering me through its front doors.
“You’re on the third floor. Room eleven.” She pulled something out of her pocket and handed it to me. It was a key. Heavy, ornate, and colored with age. “I suggest you don’t lose that. Replacements are hard to come by.” She pointed to a set of winding stairs. “Take those and then the set on the left.”
I figured it was best not to ask about the elevator since although I saw one, it was not offered as an option. Three flights of stairs weren’t so bad. “You’re not coming with me?”
“Your tardiness this morning has made me late for another meeting. But I trust even you can manage to count to three. Just take the stairs up and then look for the door with the eleven on it.” She left before I could ask anything further.
The headmistress was a bit cold. But then, I figured most deities probably were. I didn’t imagine etiquette or a pleasant disposition ranked really high on the list of things they cared about.
Thankful I didn’t have to worry about lugging my belongings up to my room, I made my way up the stairs and then down a hall that reminded me of an upscale bed-and-breakfast more so than a dorm. The carpets were plush, the fixtures expensive, and I was pretty sure the wallpaper was original. Not because it was faded, it was actually in perfect condition, but I was fairly sure they didn’t make it that way anymore.
Still holding the key, I slid it into the ornate lock of room number eleven, wondering if they even made keyrings large enough for this sucker as I stepped inside.
Maeve , my new roommate, looked up as soon as the door opened, her expression of surprise morphing to disgust as she raked her eyes slowly down and then back. Perfect. I really had a way of making people fall in love with me, didn’t I?
Since she made no effort to hide the fact she was sizing me up, I used the opportunity to do the same. Her blonde hair was styled in an artful tumble around her shoulders, thick black liner winging her amethyst-colored eyes, and a seriously hot shade of fuchsia expertly applied to her lips—which were currently twisted in a scowl. She wore head-to-toe black, a stark contrast to her alabaster skin which was dotted with a spray of freckles, but not in the rebellious style of someone going through their goth phase. Her high-waisted, wide-legged slacks screamed money. So did her sheer silk blouse and the lacy bralette she wore beneath it.
From the looks of things, I’d interrupted her painting her nails, a glittering drop falling from the brush and splattering onto the varnished wood of her fancy desk. Since she hadn’t noticed, I decided not to tell her. No need to go and give her other things to hate me over. She seemed to have more than enough reasons already.
“You must be Asher,” she said with a resigned huff. “I’m Maeve Mirabella.”
My eyes widened at that. The Mirabellas were a notoriously scary coven of witches.
“Good, I see you already know better than to fuck with me. Stay out of my way, and we should get along just fine.” She turned her attention back to her manicure, calling over her shoulder, “That’s your bed over there. I’ve already filled the closet, so you’ll have to make do with the dresser. You’re just lucky I was willing to let you share my room. No one else wanted the pampered Callaway princess disrupting their lives.”
Pampered princess? That was laughable. More like dirty little secret.
I eyed the furniture in question, which had clothes spilling out of two of its four drawers. The bed hadn’t fared much better. While it was made, its linens the same decadent quality as the rest of the place so far, Maeve ’s cast-off outfits were strewn all across it. I was pretty sure this was some kind of test, and my reaction would likely solidify or change whatever assumptions she’d made about me. But I’d been playing power games like this my whole life, and I didn’t scare easily.
Without a word, I picked up the first of my suitcases and tossed it on the bed, right on top of a bunched-up Armani dress. She snorted, but I caught her eyeing me as though waiting for me to challenge her or break. I was used to people like her. Rich kids were the same from Family to Family. Show no weakness. That was the only way to establish where you belonged in the pecking order. Me? I might have been hidden away for most of my life, but I belonged on top.
I scooped all the clothes off my bed, carrying them in my arms as I strolled across the room toward her. She didn’t even look up as she continued painting her toenails a deep crimson. Until I dropped the pile of designer garments straight onto her freshly painted feet.
“You really should put your clothes away. They could get ruined.”
Eyes trained on me, she smirked. “Well played, Callaway. Maybe you’re not a runt after all.”
Ah, home sweet home.
Exhaustion weighed heavily on me, seeping into my bones as I came through the door and headed straight for my bed. The room was empty, thankfully. Wherever Maeve was, I hoped she stayed there.
My first day of classes had been a complete fucking disaster. Any hope I’d had about Beastville being my fresh start had been shot straight to hell. It seemed like my classmates were determined to hate me. If they weren’t staring, they were whispering, and the wide berth everyone gave me made me wonder if someone told them I had some kind of communicable disease.
I bet it was that alphahole, Devon. He’d probably told them all how deep his disdain for me ran. Who knew what kind of lies he’d been spreading?
I almost longed for the solitude of the Callaway estate and what I’d dubbed my ‘little ivory tower.’ It was neither a tower nor ivory, but at least there I’d be surrounded by familiar things, and I could avoid seeing the people who hated me. Maybe freedom wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Tossing my arm over my eyes, I fought the wave of tears that threatened to crest. I would not cry on my first day here. I was stronger than this, dammit. But I hadn’t expected to feel such loneliness so quickly.
The bed dipped, startling me because I’d thought I was here alone. I opened my eyes and found Maeve ; at least, I thought it was her. Her hair was a startling violet shade now, cropped close to her head and putting her pretty face on display.
“Nice hair,” I grumbled.
“You are pathetic.”
“Is that always how you respond to a compliment, or am I special?” I grunted in response.
“No wonder you have no friends.”
“Seriously? Who the hell shit in your Cheerios? What did I ever do to you besides befoul your fucking dorm room with my mere presence?”
Maeve sighed. “Listen, you didn't do anything. You exist in our space, and that’s enough. Especially since Devon Bassett has said nothing but terrible things about you since we heard you’d be joining us.”
“I hate that jackass.”
“Seems the feeling is mutual. But”—she cocked her head to the side—“you aren’t giving off the she-bitch from hell vibe he describes, so I think I need to figure you out for myself.”
“He’s just butthurt because I rejected him. I haven’t actually done anything to him. Hell, I haven’t even seen or spoken to him since I was sixteen. You think the guy would grow a pair and get over it after seven years, but apparently I made an impression.”
Her brows, a matching violet to her hair, lifted, and she snagged me by the hand, tugging me up until I was sitting. “Oh, you humiliated him. I knew there had to have been something like that. He went from zero to douche canoe over one summer. Girl, you created a monster. I bow down.”
“What?”
“Anyone who can crush a man enough to change him like that is basically a goddess in my eyes. So, on that note”—she stood and propped her hands on her hips—“we should be friends.”
I laughed. “Just like that?”
“Do you want me to make it harder? It’s not like you have folks beating down the door with other offers. And truthfully, you’ll never have a better offer than this one right here, sweetness.”
Heaving a sigh, I stared at this little spitfire of a woman and nodded. She was right. I needed a friend, not another enemy. “Sold.”