Page 95 of The Order of the Bitter Hunt

Jun

Should we talk?

The text is simple. It barely says anything, but my cool blood turns to ice.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“What is it?”

Jun

About the trial.

His second text saves the day—doesn’t it? But my stomach sinks even lower. He wants to talk about the trial, not aboutus. That’s what we should do… so, why am I disappointed?

“Nothing,” I mutter. “Jun received his invitation as well.”

If he’s going to play it cool, I will too. There are a million things I want to say in the text, but I opt to keep it simple.

Margaux

Probably.

Meet me tomorrow in the common room after breakfast.

I look up from my phone. “Tobey?”

“Yes?”

“Should I send him a kissing emoji?”

They groan loudly, rubbing their temples. “You know what? Maybe not. What is it you always tell me? ‘Leave them wanting more?’”

“Right.” I lock my phone and set it off to the side. “Then that’s what I’ll do. I give good advice, don’t I?”

“Sometimes, but it’s rare.”

I throw one of my stuffed animals—a creature with too-large eyes and teeth—at them. “Well, I’m right this time!”

Whether he is my mate or not, I will not beg foranyman’s attention—especially not Jun’s.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Warmth and laughter fill the common room, which makes it an ideal meeting spot. There’s a low chance of other students hearing us through the cloud of chatter. I snag a seat near the crackling fireplace and sink into the emerald velvet armchair. The scent of burning wood, fresh pastries, and espresso fills the air—a sign that the other students are meeting up to enjoy a cup of coffee together.

How sweet.

Jun and I don’t have the same jolly reasons to meet, but the environment is comforting. I haven’t spent enough time here lately. When I was a freshman, I would spend my days sitting here, chatting to new friends or reading a book.

Now, there always seems to be something more pressing for me to take care of.

I wait… and wait… and wait. Now and then, I have to tell someone it’s taken. Surely, he’ll be here any minute.

I’m early—rare for me—but I have more than one reason to be eager to see him. We need to talk about the trial to solidifyour partnership, and if any other topics arise… I suppose that’s welcome as well.

But I won’t be the one to start the conversation about us having sex. He should begmefor another round—unless it wasn’t good for him. Oh, what do I care? My mother may not be perfect, but she taught me that any good man should grovel. And she was right.

He doesn’t leave me spiraling in my thoughts for long. Jun slides into the seat across from me, and the borrowed blood in my body rushes to warm my still heart. There’s a smirk fixed upon his face already. His hair hangs around his perfectly angled cheekbones. He’s tucked his wings away and his eyes are in their dark brown hue rather than crimson, but his horns are on display.