Greymoor Academy: I Accidentally Bonded With Four Lycan Royals!

Chapter 239: 239. Bombay

Maisie

I lunged for the tissues and the first pull tore the paper in half. I yanked over and over again, until the dispenser stuttered and the floor around my feet was littered with them.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I pressed the tissues to my face and scrubbed.

But the second the blood smeared across my cheek, the bathroom disappeared. Suddenly, it wasn’t pig’s blood. It was thicker, hotter, pouring down my neck, my face, my hair. It was sliding into my clothes like it did on that cliff.

Gruer often said I needed therapy. But I didn’t think it was necessary. I could stand the sight of blood just fine. Could spill it just fine. But certain things triggered me. And this was one of them.

I scrubbed the blood until I ripped my skin, and I didn’t still feel clean.

The sound of a pop echoed behind me, and I heard Gruer’s voice. "Why does it stink like a pig’s sty in here?"

I swiveled. "What are you doing here--"

The door knob twisted and both our gazes turned towards the door as it creaked. Shit. Panic flashed across Gruer’s face and in a blink of an eye, Gruer, for the lack of better word, morphed.

One second he was right there, and in the next, there was a black cat with shiny green eyes in his place. I just about screeched from fear--It was one thing to know you were relating with a demon who could pop into existence any time and place he wanted, just to torment you. And it was another thing to watch a full grown he-demon turn into a cat.

The door swung open.

"May?"

Juliette walked in, holding a bundle of fresh clothes in her hands, her blue eyes scanning the women’s bathroom, and then she paused upon seeing the cat.

A delighted squeal escaped her and she rushed forward, hurling the clothes at me as she dropped to her knees in front of it. "I didn’t know you had a cat! It’s a Bombay!" she giggled, reaching for Gruer.

"Er... I don’t think that’s a good idea..." My brows rose to the top of my head and I completely forgot I was having a panic attack when Gruer purred while she scratched the back of his ear. And proceeded to wrap his tail around her thigh.

Under her skirt.

"Oh, aren’t you a good boy?" she cooed when he let her scoop him up into his arms. He purred again, pressing his whiskered face between her breasts.

Wasn’t this classified as some kind of sexual assault? I wondered what she would do if she realized it wasn’t a cat nuzzling her cleavage, but a demon.

To make it worse, she turned her big blue eyes to me. "What’s his name? I love cats. Quinn never let me have one."

"Er..." Gruer turned his shiny green eyes to me and blinked twice. Cutely.

Fucker. "P-philip," I stammered. "Name’s Philip. I think... I think you should put him down. He has... a... uh... contagious disease--"

Gruer hissed at me, baring his catty fangs at me. And then he turned his ’adorable’ green eyes to Juliette and mewled sadly.

"Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine," Juliette said, hugging him to her breasts again, and this time, he stuck out his tongue like a damned dog, and licked her neck. Once. Twice. Three times.

I thought I had to remind him that cats weren’t into the business of licking people, or he would ruin his silly disguise.

She nodded towards the pile of clothes in my hands and it was a little hard to concentrate on her words when Gruer’s tail curled over her neck and went under her neckline.

"I thought you might need them," she said softly, forcing my attention away from Gruer. "We didn’t know that would happen."

I stared at the clothes and my lips wobbled again. "You don’t... hate me?"

Juliette shrugged, running her hands up and down Gruer’s furry back. "I wouldn’t be here if I did, would I?"

Tears were filling my eyes faster than I could manage, and I kept my head down to hide them from her. But she approached me and caught my chin, tilting my head up. Her blue eyes pierced mine. "Everyone likes to keep me in a bubble. Too trusting to tell wrong from right, they tell me. They say I’m like a child who thinks because she’s good, she thinks everyone is good too." Her thumb caught the tear from my chin. "But I have seen bad, Maisie, and you are far from it. Sooner or later, they’ll all see it too, and they’ll come around."

I bit my lip to keep back my sob and I felt tired of carrying it all alone, too tired of acting strong.

I shook my head, the sob finally escaping. "I–I don’t know. Everything is..." Hiccup. "Everything is broken and I... I don’t know how to... fix this. Us. They hate me."

"No, they don’t," she sighed, scratching Gruer’s furred back. "Soren thinks it’s his fault your life got ruined. He thinks if he never got involved with you, everything wouldn’t be such a mess, and he’s been working so hard since you left, to ensure if you ever came back, you got a fighting chance. Hearing your confession dealt them all a significant blow, and you can’t blame him for responding to that after holding hope for so long."

"Mercer–"

"--is Mercer, Maisie. When he’s hurt, he lashes out. It’s nothing new. Plus, your goodbye letter didn’t exactly do anyone any favors.

"--is Mercer, Maisie. When he’s hurt, he lashes out. It’s nothing new. Plus, your goodbye letter didn’t exactly do anyone any favors."

"My letter," I laughed bitterly, unsure how to ask what was in it without giving away that the only thing I had ever written was a stupid, earnest love letter.

Juliette’s expression tightened and the usual warmth and softness she always carried hardened.

"I could forgive you for a lot of things, May. Maybe you had a reason for leaving. Maybe there’s a reason you’re like this now. You’ve always been selfless like that. I could overlook that." Her eyes flashed. "But I’ve known them since I was a child, and they’ve been nothing but good to me. And I can’t forgive you for taking the most private, painful part of their lives and turning them into weapons."

She took a step closer and I took one back, chest heaving. "Do you have any idea how hard Mercer has worked to erase the stigma of being called a rapist’s son? You told him he was exactly like his father. And Jericho. You told him he was a monster who should’ve burned with his family in that fire. And my brother–"

Her voice cracked with anger. "My mama told you of his childhood in confidence. About the abuse. About the things that were done to him when he was too little to protect himself. And you took it, called him sick, and threw it back at him like it was something he should be ashamed of. ’An apple doesn’t fall far from the tree’. Do you even understand what that did to him?"

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