NOVEL Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four Chapter 24: _Shouldn’t Have Done That

Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Chapter 24: _Shouldn’t Have Done That
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Chapter 24: _Shouldn’t Have Done That

Celeste’s POV

*****

"Luther..." The edge in my voice shocked even me.

Atlas arched his brow, turning around to face the incoming Alpha. freēwēbηovel.c૦m

Luther wore a royal blue jacket, the zipper left open halfway down. Exposing his chiselled chest and abs. His blonde hair was styled perfectly—too perfectly.

And his scent... That familiar musk that I’d always melted at the first whiff of. Gods, I hate the fact that I was still attracted to it. I couldn’t even lie to myself.

I still find this cheating cum bag attractive! And it’s all thanks to this fucking mate bond.

"Cel," Luther’s lips curled into a soft smile when he got in front of us. Giving Atlas a brief glance, he continued. "You’re aware of—"

"Dean Thorne’s crazy directive?" I smiled sarcastically. "Yes, Luther. I am. Please, can you not call me that?"

He frowned. "Call you what?"

"Cel," it rolled out like poison from my mouth. Yet my heart was jittery, making me fold my arms across my chest. "Like we’re still dating. Or like you didn’t fuck me over and almost ruin my life."

The silence that followed was... Deafening. Made me remember that we were actually in a library to begin with.

I’m sure Mr Sullivan was already craning his neck from his spot, prepping himself to come berate us.

Luther’s mouth opened, closing when he flicked his eyes to Atlas. His cheeks reddened with embarrassment, voice lowering. "I’m... Saying I’m sorry won’t cut it. You’re allowed to hate me all you want—"

"Bitch, please." I nearly laughed, eyeing him with disgust. "I wish I could fucking reject your ass right now. Who made you lord over what I can and can’t do?"

Pausing for a moment, I inched closer, stepping past Atlas. When my face was inches away, I uttered. "... Yes, Luther. I hate you. With every fibre of my being. I want you out of my life completely and wish you nothing but all the pain you caused me that night."

His blue eyes widened.

Did the bastard expect I’d give him a love confession?

After glaring for a hot second, I pulled away when his breath on my face became too distracting. "This is pointless. I’ll leave the library to you," I bent, picking up the book I dropped earlier.

When I straightened, I managed a glance at Atlas. I felt like saying something... Mostly about that almost kiss. Gods, he’d be the third guy I’ve "almost" kissed in two days.

How long do I have to wait to make it real?!

Wait... Why am I thinking that?

My cheeks flushed as I hastily looked away from him, attempting to get the heck out of there.

"Celeste, wait." Luther grabbed my wrist before I could move four steps, forcing me to whip my head back with a gasp. "I... I wish I could explain why I did what I did with Lysandra—"

"Are you fucking kidding me?" My voice rose. I tried yanking my hand out of his grip but he wouldn’t budge. "You... You’re literally dating Lysandra. Are you not?"

He stuttered. "I... It’s not—"

"You’re fucking pathetic," I spat, genuinely irritated. "Get your hand off me!"

"That’s enough, Luther." Atlas stepped in, grabbing Luther’s hand and pulling it off me. "You’re making her uncomfortable. And that’s the last thing she needs right now."

I was still fuming at Luther. But Atlas’ simple gesture made my stomach swirl with something warm, a smile almost cracking across my face.

Gritting his teeth, Luther snarled. "And what makes you the keeper of knowledge on what she ’needs’? I’ve dated her for months and—"

"And yet you flung a diamond aside for granite." Atlas stood his ground. "You’re only making yourself look foolish here, Luther."

The tension was suffocating.

Both men glared at each other, neither saying anything. I could feel their emotions like it was mine.

Luther’s rage seemed scattered all over the place. Almost as if he couldn’t figure out who or what to direct his anger at.

And then there was Atlas. Face a mask of calm but eyes sharp with irritation and disdain.

Tightening my grip on my book, I was about to say something—

"Luther?" A shrill voice butted in. I didn’t even need to turn to know who it was. I recognised that bitchy pitch from anywhere. "What are you doing here with this... Slut?"

Lysandra.

Queen of shamelessness herself.

Lowering the hand clutching the book, I pivoted, smiling sarcastically when I saw her waltzing here.

Her makeup-heavy face fleeted past me like I was filth, landing on Luther. "Well? I’ve been trying your phone and tracked it here. Why are you—"

"The biggest joke of the decade should be YOU calling me a slut." I didn’t hold back. "Really, Lysandra? I still have your stench lurking in my room like a poltergeist—and you’ve got the nerve to slut shame me?"

She gawked, jaw dropping. But soon, her jaw clenched, teeth literally bared like a dog’s. "You think you’re so tough?" Raising her hand, her eyes glinted with something cold.

But before the slap could connect, Luther’s hand clamped around her wrist. "Lysandra, stop this!" He sneered, pulling her away from me.

I didn’t even wait another second.

"Luther!" Lysandra screeched while I walked past them, not looking back for a second. "What’s gotten into you? Are you really letting her spell on you—"

"Shhh!" Mr Sullivan rushed over, glancing briefly at me. I barely noticed, keeping my head high as I kept on walking.

Fuck them all.

.

.

I barely made it past the archway when the air changed.

The sun still shone bright above but there was a sudden chilly stillness that made my skin crawl. I turned around, placing a hand over my eyes to get a view of the library building.

"You’re bleeding," a deep voice stated behind me just then. I jolted, eyes widening with realisation before I even spun to see who it was.

Azrael.

When I finally pivoted to face him, I nearly stumbled. The man was standing just a couple of feet away from me, clearly gazing at me through those black sunglasses.

"I..." I gulped, trying not to get distracted by his cologne. "I’m not bleeding though. Or..." I searched my body, certain I hadn’t gotten any bruises.

"Not physically," Azrael stopped me. "But you’re bleeding. Emotionally." Raising his right hand, he placed his index finger just a few centimetres away from the left side of my chest. "Here."

Emotions I didn’t know I had buried hit me in waves. It all came crashing down—the sting of Luther’s betrayal, the pressure of the mate bonds, my parents’ negligence.

All of it.

I wanted to scream. I wanted to lie to myself that I was pulling through despite everything.

But I couldn’t.

Without thinking, I raised my head. Staring at Azrael’s sharp features. Then I broke the distance, burying my face in his chest and wrapping my arms around his warm body.

He froze. I felt his muscles stiffen like he’d been struck by lightning.

Then—

His hands slowly found my back, fingers curling into my hair. No words, no reassurances. Just the feeling of letting myself feel protected around another man.

I didn’t know how much time had passed. We were in front of the main library, and the chattering of students could still be heard from different spots in the academy grounds.

Yet, I didn’t care. Screw Luther.

Pulling away from the embrace, my fingers trailed Azrael’s arm. He always looked lean underneath his outfits. Right now though? I felt every curve of his muscles, toned to break.

I let my desires take control. And through the bond, I could feel his hunger.

Leaning in, my eyes fluttered shut. My breath became heavy, my grip on his arm. Then—

—We kissed.

The second our lips crashed, he didn’t hold back. He grabbed my waist, deepening the kiss until my breath stuttered.

This was really happening! Azrael Vaelmont was kissing me.

However—

Before things got too heated, he broke it first.

His hands dropped from my waist like he’d been burned. "We shouldn’t have done that," he said quietly.

And for the first time since I met him —

Azrael looked afraid.

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