“But Miss Montgomery?”
I pause, hand still on the door handle.
“I hope, in time, you’ll learn that there are many ways to become powerful. If you come to trust me, I can help you achieve your true potential.”
19
A Devil on his Throne
Jarron isthe picture of arrogant comfort, leaning back in the small metal chair like it’s his throne and everyone else should grovel at his feet. His elbows are draped over the armrest carelessly. His eyes are hooded.
My heart thuds as I approach.
His lips curl into a smile when his dark gaze lands on me.
“Everything okay?” I ask, taking my seat between him and another demon at the Elite lunch table.
“Jarron’s in amood,” Auren says, her smile bright like she likes it. I can’t help but glare at her. Jarron’s lips twitch, but he says nothing.
“What kind of mood?” I ask uncertainly.
He drapes his arm over the back of my chair and leans in. “Nothing you need to be concerned about.”
I’m not convinced, but as more Elite join the table chatting idly, my shoulders relax.
“Would you like something to eat?” Jarron asks casually, his fingertips glide gently over my forearm.
I shrug. I’ve gotten used to not eating much during lunch lately. I’m inevitably too distracted and nervous to eat while surrounded by predators. But my conversation with Mr. Vandozer comes to mind.
“You better go up anyway,” Stassi says, with an uncharacteristically serious tone.
“Don’t want another visit from the gracious Mr. Vandozer,” another one of the wolves says with a wide grin.
My brows rise. I guess I’m not the only one the headmaster has been chatting up.
“Perception is reality,” Mia says with a smug smile.
Auren’s face is impassive as she shrugs, acknowledging my unasked question. “It’s hard to believe you two are really an item with the way you always keep each other at arm’s reach.” Her icy glare cuts into me. A rumble reverberates from Jarron’s chest, and I turn to see him glaring at Auren.
My stomach sinks. We’ve only been “dating” for a week, but if people really are questioning our relationship, we’ll have to change something. And that something will very likely be unpleasant for me.
Jarron slides his chair out and stands, holding out his hand.
I take it and then rise slowly, meeting his intense stare. We walk hand in hand toward the rows of food at the very back of the cafeteria. Jarron glances back at the table of his peers, a challenge in his eyes, just before he passes through the magical arch. I don’t know what would happen if someone were spelled. Would an alarm go off? Would they turn purple? Would sparks fly?
I’m not sure I’ll ever know because, again, nothing happens when I walk through. My shoulders relax until I notice Jarron watching me closely.
“Were you nervous?”
I shrug. “Not really, but it’s weird to have the whole school anticipating something. The what-ifs tend to make their way in no matter what.”
He nods, seemingly content with that answer, and then we grab plates and browse through the rows of available food.
“So, does the whole school really think you’ve spelled me?” I ask.
“The other way around, actually.”
I blink, but then I remember the rumors about me using a love potion on him. I clench my jaw. Of course they would think that. Why else would the sexy and powerful Prince Jarron desire a plain Jane human girl?
