Our Fatal Failings (Twisted book two)

Chapter 12

Taking his sweatpants, he retreats into the bathroom and comes out a minute later. I narrow my eyes. "Your shirt?"

"No need. I'm training this morning." He leans in the doorway. "A tutor will be coming for you this morning. You're starting your lessons."

"I already graduated high school. I'm in college remember. Or at least I was..." A pang of regret ripples through me. What will happen to my education?

"You were studying nursing correct?"

I would ask how he knew, but that seems stupid. Of course, he knows--he was tracking me for years. "Until you showed up, yeah I was. Though I guess that's finished." A bitterness blossoms in me. Two years and thousands of dollars all gone in less than a week. All wasted.

"I'll find a way for you to continue. There are colleges nearby."

I throw myself backward, landing my pillow. "What's the use? It's just going to be a degree for ornamentation. I won't ever help anyone with it, not with the life you've cursed me to. Anyway," I say, changing the subject. "Tell me about the tutor."

"A speech and politics tutor remember? And I've decided to add a physical trainer too."

I make a face. "I'm not doing that."

"You need to learn to shift at will."

"I don't want to shift at all. If it were my choice, I'd sleep through the full moon, but we both know how that went last time, don't we."

He says nothing, so I sit up. He shakes his head, a smile curved on his lips. "Sorry, I was thinking about how damn good you look in my shirts. And how damn good you'd look without it."

"Listen up fucker-"

A knock on the door interrupts me. "Your Majesty, the elites wait for you in the training rooms."

"Tell them I'll be there soon."

I need my own clothes.

I cross the room, and enter the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind me. Tearing a new toothbrush out of a pack, I go about my morning routine and shower with extra hot water. I step out and of course, the only thing available for me to wear is another one of his shirts. I'm starting to notice a pattern. I step out of the bathroom and he's still sitting there. I reach into the closet and grab a sweatshirt of his. It's long enough to be a sweaterdress and none of these pants will fit me. I sigh.

"I need my own clothes."

"I don't really see a problem here."

I send him a harsh glare. "Of course there's a problem with this. How long will it be for my stuff to get here from Boston?"

He shrugs. "I sent a team in. All your stuff was covered in Wolfsbane. It's a blessing from the goddess I didn't get sick."

"A curse you mean," I mutter.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

I bite the inside of my cheeks. I need underwear. "I really need my own clothes."

It seems to dawn on him. "Oh."

"Yeah, oh."

His eyes flicker golden yellow. "I still don't see a problem."

I fling a pillow at him. "Cool it. Tell the lady who brought me that dress to come up here with underwear. Until then, I'll stay here."

It's cold anyway. I'll just stay in bed.