Chapter 30 Chapter 30

Chapter 30 Chapter 30
Chapter Thirty

Andre's POV
"Like now?" I ask, my voice sounding more strained than I intended. Olenna nods, her fingers already fumbling with the silk ropes of my robe. I stand there, rigid, not stopping her but not moving to help either.

"Yeah, now... I was drunk last night and I couldn't do anything with you. We could do it this morning instead."

"We have classes today, Olenna. Have you forgotten?" I try to reason, but she just snorts, pulling the knot loose.

"Since when did you start caring about classes?" she asks, her eyes searching mine with a predatory heat. "We can take all the time we want today and just go to classes tomorrow. Nobody is going to stop us."

"I don't think my father would want that," I reply, reaching for the first excuse that usually shuts her down.

"How about I call him and warn him off you?" she suggests with a playful, yet sharp, edge.

Damn it. I need to stop this, and fast. I barely managed to avoid this last night by making sure she was too far gone to function. I didn't think she'd be this persistent the second she opened her eyes. The image of Henna, the way her neck felt under my hand and the fire in her eyes flashes through my mind, making the idea of being with Olenna feel like a chore I can't stomach.

I force a smile, my hand reaching out to stroke her hair, trying to mimic the affection she expects. "Is that really what you want? Then how about we do it tonight?"

"Tonight?" she repeats, her brow arching.

"I really don't want to miss classes today," I say, my mind already halfway out the door. I need to know what happened in the East Wing. I know Yellow; she’s a viper that doesn't stop once she’s tasted blood. Henna went too far, and Yellow will dismantle her piece by piece if someone doesn't interfere. Staying in this room isn't going to satisfy the restlessness clawing at my gut.

"And I need to see Mark," I continue, trying to sound firm. "I'm not making an excuse... I was just frustrated that you were so drunk last night. It ruined the moment I had planned."

Olenna stops, her hands dropping from my robe. She steps back, her expression shifting from desire to a cold, sharp realization. "You got me drunk because you didn't want to do it last night."

"What?" I feel a surge of panic. She’s always been too quick to pick up on my shifts in mood or actions. 

"I know you got me drunk so you wouldn't have to touch me," she continues, her voice rising. "You could easily do it with Sephine, but not with me. Why is that, Andre?"

I clench my fist, my knuckles turning white. The mention of that name is like a physical blow. "What are you saying? You got yourself drunk last night and..."

"You made me drink, Andre. I know that now," she snaps. "You still don't want to sleep with me? I know you're attracted to me... what I don't understand is why you won't fuck me. Is it because of Sephine? You don't want to sleep with someone who murdered..."

She stops dead, the rest of the sentence dying in her throat when she sees my expression. My face has gone completely cold, my wolf snarling just beneath the surface. The air in the room feels heavy, suffocating.

"Don't," I say, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "Don't you dare finish that sentence."

She looks at me sharply and then looks away, the tension in the room vibrating like a taut wire. "We won't do it tonight like you said," she says, her voice suddenly smooth and devoid of the anger from a moment ago. "I want to do something else."

She turns back to look at me with a smile. I know what that smile always means. She is up to something. Whether she is getting back at me for the rejection or just rebelling against my control, I don't know, but I know it won't be easy.

"Let's have a newcomer ritual."

"What?"

I knew it. That smile never lies.

She smiles wider, her eyes gleaming with a localized malice. "We didn't celebrate the newcomer yesterday because of my birthday. I was thinking of organizing something little for her."

"You know she's human and not one of us, Olenna," I say, my voice hardening. "Neither is she a witch or a hybrid. She doesn't need a ritual. It would be too much for her."

"But that will be breaking the tradition if we don't do it," she counters, pacing the room with a sudden, restless energy. "We do it every year. It’s how we welcome them into Gray Ridge."

"You didn't do it last year with Sephine when she came in," I remind her, the name feeling like a piece of lead in my throat.

"That's why she died," Olenna says, her voice chillingly casual. "Because she didn't have a newcomer ritual. No spirits could protect her, and she had to lose her life. Do you want the same for this one? Or do you actually care what happens to her?"

She stops and looks at me, her head tilted. She’s baiting me. If I refuse too strongly, I’m confirming that Henna matters to me. If I agree, I’m handing Henna over to a pack of everyone, literally. A "ritual" for a human is just a fancy name for a hunt.

"I don't care about her," I say, "I'm just worried about you." 

She smiles, her eyes glinting with a victory I’m not ready to give her. "Why would you worry? It's just a ritual."

My heart panics. There is never just a ritual in Lycan commons or here at Gray Ridge. In our world, a ritual is a blood-bound contract with the spirits of the land. It’s a trial of strength, a purging of the weak. In every ritual, a life is almost always lost. Whether it’s through the exhaustion of the soul or the literal tearing of flesh, something has to be sacrificed to keep the balance.

Henna wouldn't last ten minutes in the circle. She’s a spark of fire in a room full of gunpowder; she’d be extinguished before the first chant even finished.

I can’t let this happen. I need to distract Olenna, to pull her focus away from the East Wing and back onto the one thing that can actually sway her: me. 

I advance toward her, my movements slow and deliberate, my wolf coiled tight and snarling at the deception. My hands snake around her waist, pulling her flush against me until the heat of her body is the only thing between us. I don't give her a chance to question the sudden shift. I lean down and plant my lips on hers.

I pull back just enough to see her pupils blown wide, 

"Let's do it," I whisper against her lips, my voice a low, gravelly vibration. "Now."