Bloodbound to the Witch Heir: Claimed By Four

Chapter 59: _A Man, Not A Toy

Celeste’s POV

*****

The air was heavy.

Cheers died down as most students nearby pivoted in their seats, their attention fixed on two Alpha King daughters in what I could only describe as a royal face-off.

Rebecca stood still, bright blue eyes sharp with something dangerous. In contrast, Lysandra tried to square her up, arms on her waist and her head tilted.

Luther stood aside helplessly, eyes darting between the two women. Almost like he was prepping himself in case one struck first.

However, he didn’t need to wait for long—

"When will shameless tramps like yourself learn?" Lysandra laughed, mocking and livid. "Circling around what isn’t yours doesn’t guarantee it’ll notice you."

What. It...

I’m not the only one who saw how those words reduced Luther to an object, right?

"Never would I have imagined Luther would stoop so low for an Alpha King’s validation," Willow began just then. "To the extent that he’d let his daughter treat him like fairly used property anytime she gets. Really, when will this madness end?"

Sadly, I didn’t have an answer to that. Not one bit.

"Funny you should say that," Rebecca didn’t flinch, voice brittle. "When you’ve never had a claim on the man as well. Yes, Lysandra." She paused, bringing her head close by just a few inches. "A man. An Alpha. Not a little toy you get to play with."

For some reason, those words felt accusatory of something.

Gasps and whispers resounded from every corner around them. At this point, there was barely anyone still completely focused on the witch trials.

"Yes," Lysandra was shameless, grabbing Luther’s arm and pulling him to her chest. "He’s MY man. My boyfriend. So why don’t you—"

"Darling, please." Rebecca finally cracked a smile, laughing dryly. "He looks like he’s being held against his will. And I’m certain today wasn’t a first."

Lysandra’s face twisted darkly. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Willow tapped my arm just then. "See? I know I wasn’t the only one who thought Luther’s recent behaviour has been more loco than usual." She paused, voice lowering. "It’s no wonder he always seems to forget you’re his mate."

"Huh?" Caelum’s questioning sound made chills run down my spine. Fuck, he’s been right beside me this whole time and I forgot. "Willow, what was that?"

The latter’s cheeks reddened, green eyes settling on me like she wasn’t the one who couldn’t control her damn mouth. I kept my back turned to Caelum, hoping that would deter him from asking questions anymore.

"The night at the Lupine Ball," Caelum was annoyingly persistent. "When Lysandra confronted you about being mated to the Hale brothers. So that wasn’t all an act? Are the rumours really true?"

Fuck, fuck, fucking fuck!

My eyes met Willow’s face in a glare. But at the same time, I couldn’t entirely blame her.

Knowing Caelum, he was bound to notice something off sooner or later.

I couldn’t let him find out I was mated not just to Luther and Silas—but two others.

In a bid to ignore Caelum, my eyes trailed to seats at my far left.

Azrael and Silas had their attention on the Rebecca and Lysandra encounter. Neither seemed all that invested, merely curious.

Despite Azrael having on his sunglasses as usual, I felt something. Pulsing through the bond. Then—his chin moved slightly in my direction, head lowering. Just enough to get a look at me.

"Listen, mate." Lysandra’s shrill warning made me snap my neck back to the clash of princesses. "You’re clearly way over your head. Just heed my warning and keep off what’s mine."

Rebecca didn’t answer her immediately.

Instead, her head turned. Those blue eyes landed on me. Knowing and acknowledging without outright uttering anything.

Until she did.

"Like I keep saying," Rebecca took a daring step toward Lysandra. "If he were yours to begin with, you wouldn’t be so afraid of him getting ’stolen’. Cut the act, hon. You might’ve fooled everyone in this academy, but I’ve seen more Oscar-worthy performances."

Uproar.

Barely anyone had their attention on the witch trials now. I kind of felt bad for Atlas and the other girl, but at least they didn’t know what was happening back here.

"You bitch!" Lysandra snarled, raising a hand.

My eyes widened.

Gods, no.

She wouldn’t dare, right?

SMACK!

The sound that cracked through the audience section like a whip wasn’t Lysandra’s hand connecting with Rebecca’s face.

On the contrary, Europe’s wolf princess caught Lysandra’s wrist mid-swing, inches from her face, eyes blazing with irritation.

Lysandra growled. "How dare you? Get your freaking paw off me!"

Curious, I swept my eyes over the High table. Thorne and Luna Queen Janelle had their heads turned to the scene, the former’s expression tinged with embarrassment.

"No, you back off!" Rebecca swung Lysandra’s arm away, glaring daggers. "For someone who I heard was ’poisoned’ you seem so up and about. Like you’re afraid the rest of the world will discover your dirty lingerie."

Fortunately, two White Flame students stepped behind Rebecca, holding her back before she blew up. Her eyes were already searing with a silver light, claws sharpened.

Luther grabbed Lysandra, pulling her back all while she screamed like a banshee. "Fuck you! I swear to Selene, you’ll fucking regret crossing me!" ƒrēewebnoѵёl.cσm

"You can TRY swearing to any deity you know." Rebecca sniggered. "They all know what you’ve done. And soon he will too."

Her eyes flicked to Luther. Just for a passing second as her friends pulled her away with pleading expressions. Then her gaze locked on me.

As if in silent warning.

"Enough!" Professor Amelia shouted into her mic, strutting out of the high table. Three Bloodoak professors and one from White Flame accompanied her, navigating through the aisle leading to the scene. "What is the meaning of this unsightly event?"

"Took them long enough." Willow scoffed.

For all that, I couldn’t resist weighing everything laid down during this clash. To most, it would appear to be nothing more than a misunderstanding.

Not me though.

Rebecca seemed to notice something about Luther. Something I’d noticed as well but never knew how to explain:

—Lysandra had too much control over him. Too many stakes like he’s hers to own. Hers to use.

Hers to ruin.

Just as I thought all that, I caught Luther angle his face toward me. He didn’t need to speak. His eyes—they did all the talking. So did the bond:

Confusion.

Plus a fractured plea for help.