Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Chapter 233: 233. Not Enough

Tessa

Tessa had made a mistake. A grave one. And she had lost the Queen’s favor because of it.

The Queen no longer invited Tessa into her chambers or to sit with her. She barely acknowledged her when she was in the room, and even if Harding, the Queen’s favorite consort, had told her the matters at the Council had the Queen bothered of late and it had nothing to do with her, Tessa knew the truth.

Had she succeeded at the simple task she had been given, the Queen would’ve been more welcoming. It didn’t matter that she did in fact succeed. All the Queen saw when she looked at Tessa was a failure. And she didn’t take kindly to failures.

Tessa suspected the only reason the Queen hadn’t completely written her off was because of her noble bloodline, and the unavailability of other full blooded females who could take her place.

Still, she knew how easily the Queen discarded those who stopped being useful to her. Already, at the revelry eight months ago, she had told Tessa, "Men are like dogs. Always looking for the next warm place to rest. To rut. If you cannot do something as simple as holding their attention for long enough to have them bed you, then I wonder if it is time to consider a different alliance better suited for you."

She had touched Tessa’s cheek. "I hear MacKeltar has grown bored of his half-breed wife. You are young. You are the most fertile you will ever be. If you cannot get my son’s heir in you before the next Samhain, I will consider MacKeltar’s offer for your hand. He is quite virile, they say."

Tessa had been working hard ever since.

She knew MacKeltar would be an easy man to control. And if she pushed hard enough, she could easily get him to make her his princess.

But princess wasn’t enough. Not when Soren was now unmated. She had been promised the title of Queen and she couldn’t fathom having anything less than that. It was all she heard in her head every time she acted meek and subservient, offering comfort when she thought they needed it.

Not enough. Not enough. Not enough.

Even her dreams had warped into nightmares where the girl she had killed sat on the throne and she stood to the side, bowing to her. The mere thought of it was comparable to death for Tessa.

She had hoped the girl didn’t survive the fall, but in the event that she did, she hoped she would never come back. The Queen had made it so that if the girl ever even considered returning, she would find that there was nothing left of her old life in Ashbourne. She would be met with a death sentence. Or worse.

And for a while, that had been more than enough compensation for every time she tried to get close to the princes and got turned down. Ignored. Shut out. She didn’t let it deter her. She knew now that the best way into their lives wasn’t by force. If they liked the girl because she was innocent, Tessa could feign innocence and honesty. If it was her fiery, yet indecisive nature, Tessa could become even better at that. She became everything she knew they would want in a woman.

And she was this close to achieving her goal. She could feel the change begin after months of effort. They were no longer as cold and shut off with her. She had just made a place here, taking up the space the stupid bitch used to occupy in their lives, and she wouldn’t, couldn’t relinquish that for anything in the world.

She had to mark her territory and seal it. Had to let the girl know the princes were no longer hers. They were Tessa’s.

Tessa stood across from Maisie in the small dorm room and eyed her.

Had she walked past the girl on the street, she wouldn’t have recognized her.

Her rich brown hair was gone and in its place sat a bob that looked like it had been butchered with an axe, coming to sit around her chin. The girl had kohl around her eyes and it made the crushing blue of them so intense, Tessa fought a flinch. Her skin had a slight tan to it, her face sharper and more severe, and Tessa might have been forced to acknowledge that the girl looked prettier somehow, if it weren’t for the scars on her neck, marring her delicate features.

But it wasn’t just that.

Tessa couldn’t put her finger on it, but something about the girl was different. It made her feel uncomfortable. Like she was just an inch away from getting stabbed in the gut.

Even if the girl appeared positively subdued.

"You should’ve died on that cliff," Tessa got out.

They were words that had been eating her up from inside. She prayed for it everyday. Goddess, how she prayed that she would never have to see that face again.

"Unfortunately for you, I didn’t," Maisie said, voice hard. "How’s it been, Tess? Living my life? Wearing my shoes? Trying to fill up the emptiness I left behind? Must not be working well if you felt the need to make the trip just to... what exactly are you doing here?"

Anger rose like a tide in Tessa, and she tilted her head, letting her eyes lower to Maisie’s neck. "That looks painful," she nodded at the scar with a smirk. "How’d you get it? Someone scraped your skin off?"

"Something like that," Maisie answered without bite or hate, her hand rising to caress the scar intimately. And something frighteningly red flashed in Maisie’s eyes as she said, "I do intend to return the favor. Very soon."

The hairs on Tessa’s skin rose. There was no menace in Maisie’s words, and perhaps that was what was more frightening about it. That Maisie spoke like it was a conviction.

It threw Tessa slightly off balance. And she tried to throw Maisie off balance, too.

"I heard you were pregnant," Tessa purred. "My condolences."

Maisie stiffened. She exhaled. Then smiled. "It’s no news, I imagine. How I got rid of it in Munich," she shrugged. "Mercer didn’t take it well, of course. He’s been in a terrible mood ever since." She cocked her head. "If terrible moods could be quantified with orgasms." She blinked at Tessa. "I assume he hasn’t given you any since you’ve been dancing around him like a bitch in heat."

A bitter taste filled Tessa’s mouth.

She suddenly understood why Koen hadn’t even glanced in her direction upon returning from the facility last night. She had opted to stay at the mansion to help out with a few things, and she had put on the most explicit lingerie set she possessed.

But he hadn’t even glanced her way once.

Even worse, when she had darkened his door to ask him if he was alright and needed anything, he had snapped at her.

One day. She had only been back for one day and everything was falling apart.

Tessa dropped the act and closed the distance between them. "You can’t have them."

Maisie blinked up at her. "I already did," she crooned. "That mansion? There’s not a surface I haven’t had them against. I bet it hurts knowing that the only way you can get their attention is by pretending to be me. You’ll only ever be second to me. An after thought. If they ever touch you, it will be because they hate me. Not because they’re attracted to you. And the second I get out of this collar, the second they find out the truth, they’ll kill you."

Tessa’s fists curled. "You’re never getting out of that collar. I have it on good word that the method of your execution has been decided. Public. Humiliating. A rather fitting end for a tramp like you."

Maisie leaned in, and Tessa’s Lycan squirmed as an imposing aura warped the air around her. It was staggering enough that a sweat broke on her forehead. "Maybe I’ll get executed," Maisie said coldly. "Maybe I’ll die an excrutiating, unjust death. But I assure you, Tessa, I’ll be taking you down with me to hell."

Tessa studied Maisie for a second.

Then she did what she had really walked all the way up here to do.

She took three steps back, smiled deviously at Maisie, and ran straight into the wall on the opposite side of her.

Pain exploded along her temple as she hit the concrete.

Maisie took a measured step away from Tessa, her brows furrowing with confusion. But Tessa hadn’t even begun yet.

With a cry she knew the guards could hear all the way out side, she ran into the wall again, screaming, "Help!" She wrapped her fingers around her own neck, squeezing hard, scraping her nails underneath over her skin until she drew blood. "Help me! She’s hurting me!"

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