Page 24 of Our Covenant

After ditching our normal gym dates and ignoring his messages, it’s only a matter of time before Thorne comes looking. All I have to do is keep showing up where he expects me to be.

Five minutes into my warmup, I take the StairMaster two steps at a time for a slow and deliberate pace. The burning in my thighs isn’t intense enough yet to get the memory of Fox’s hand reaching for me out of my head. Thorne is cocky and so full of himself that he can’t see beyond his own ego. Maddox is the book nerd who doesn’t want to grow up. Asher is the quintessential bad boy he thinks he is. He’s quiet, calculating, and so self-absorbed that he’s oblivious. But Fox . . .

Tapping into his dream felt all too personal. I can’t shake it. So, I’m taking out my white-hot anger on the equipment.

After I move on to the leg press, the burn I’ve been chasing blooms from my thighs to my core as I push the platform up then let it glide back into place. My abs shake and sweat breaks out over my chest, but all I can think about is the legacies. I can’t escape the fascination that I have with the four of them.

For longer than I care to remember, I’ve hated them. Hated that their ancestors hunted mine down through the decades to ensure the Hales never reclaimed their rightful place in the coven hierarchy. That fury was passed down through the generations to equip me with what I need to destroy them. I’m prepared to fight, but aside from horny, they aren’t the bloodthirsty monsters I’ve been armed against.

My strength gives out before the thoughts of my four enemies do and I lose the fight against the fifty-pound weights. The platform drives my knees into my already aching chest and the wind is knocked out of my exhausted lungs. I practically fall out of the seat and have to catch my breath before I get to my feet. It takes me a few seconds, but I trust that my legs will keep me upright long enough to gulp down water.

It’s time to shower and rest before my first class, but when I turn around, I catch sight of the back of Thorne’s head. His golden waves bounce as he pulls on the weight machine he’s sitting at. My stomach drops and I duck behind the StairMaster next to me. How long has he been here? Has he seen me?

I peek around the machine to see another guy come to stand next to Thorne. He’s not as tall, but he’s just as muscular. His dark hair is damp with sweat and his soaking wet shirt is flung over his broad shoulder.

It’s Fox. I can feel it.

What in the fuck?

Stepping around the guides of the machine, I get a better view of the two of them. Fox’s arm muscles bulge as he brings his water bottle up to his lips. Thorne is as handsome as any other “Ralph Lauren rich guy” walking around campus. But Fox has a dark edge to him. His facial structure and the way his thick brows weigh on his features gives his eyes a shadow. I’m sure women in their coven make sure his bed is rarely cold.

Fox’s reclusive behavior made it difficult to reach him in person and, even more so, in his subconscious. Physical proximity, I learned, will affect how strong my presence is. Without proper training or the immense library that’s being hoarded in the legacy manor, I can only sharpen my skills by practicing and—often—failing.

I expected Thorne to come alone, so what are they doing here together?

As discretely as possible, I make my way toward the women’s locker room. Confronting the both of them here in public is too spontaneous for my liking, so hiding until they leave is the only plan I can come up with. I have class in an hour with Asher and I have to arrive with the majority of our peers for my concealment charm to let me attend unnoticed.

I focus on the narrow walkway between machines and make a beeline, but just before I reach the door, I hear my name from behind me. “Elsbeth! Hey, girl, hey!”

I spin around to find Rachel Beckman from my and Asher’s poli-lit class jogging over to me, looking too chipper for 7 AM.

“I didn’t know you came to this gym.” She bounces on the balls of her feet, her blonde ponytail whipping around like the tail of some expensive, overbred dog.

“Yeah, it’s convenient and all the jocks tend to stick to the other side of campus, so it’s quieter,” I answer, peeking around her to see Thorne and Fox heading our way.

“Convenient and where all the hot intellectuals work out, huh?” She winks and looks over her shoulder just as Thorne meets my eyes. “Speak of the devils themselves. Hi, Hawthorne.”

He drags his eyes from mine and gives Rachel a polite smile. “Didn’t realize I was the devil. Our date must have been pretty terrible.”

“Awkward,” Rachel whispers and moves to stand between us to get a better view of not only my reddening face, but Thorne and Fox.

“Interesting that you’d come to that conclusion by a passing comment.” I try to smile to take the edge off my words.

“You haven’t returned any of my texts, and you’re coming to the gym earlier than usual.” He shrugs. “Just using my keen skills of pattern recognition to formulate an outcome.”

“So, you get rejected often enough to see a pattern?” I tilt my head, my arms crossed tight to my water bottle at my chest.

Rachel snickers. “Ouch. I didn’t realize there was history here.” She moves closer to him and rolls her shoulders. “I can’t imagine anyone rejecting you, Hawthorne.”

His eyes roll down her face to her sports bra then back up to me. “Maybe Elsbeth can give us both insight as to why she won’t let me take her out again.”

“My coursework was heavy this week. I needed time to catch up and I’ve barely touched my phone,” I say only to Thorne because now Rachel is being dragged into something that, if she gets in my way, will get her killed.

He smirks. The ghost of a dimple appears at the corner of his mouth.

“What?” Rachel pipes up between us. “We don’t have assignments due until the end of the month.”

Thorne raises his brows, feigning surprise at Rachel’s unwanted addition to our conversation.