Forbidden Feast

Ch. 9: Just stay by my side.

Mathew wished he didn't have a reputation for being beautiful, young, and nice. Being nice was putting Mathew in the room with the worst kinds of people.

Christopher strung his arm around Mathew's shoulders, bringing him in. "So, are you going to that school?" he asked, and his breath burned Mathew's nose hairs. He eyed Christopher's glass and the lack of blood inside. By the alcohol reeking of his breath, Mathew wondered if this wasn't his first drink of the night and he looked at Mathew like it wouldn't be his last.

"Someone like you doesn't need to go to school," Christopher Insisted, shaking Mathew a little too hard, his grip a little too tight. "You could find anyone to take care of you."

"Oh, I don't know," Mathew said. His brain was attempting leaps and flips to get away from this prince without totally insulting him. He might need their coven's help again. "The experience is good for me."

"Of course, of course, but if things get tough or you need a shoulder to cry on, you can always come back here." Mathew didn't mean to do it, but he met Christopher's face and his heavy look, crushing down on Mathew.

He needed Jace to appear. He wished for Jace to appear. Jace, Jace, Jace—

The door shuddered, flying open, and Jace poured inside and let out a long breath when he found Mathew. His eyes snapped to the arm around Mathew and he stood up straighter. He had at least two inches on Christopher, but with that scowl., it felt more like two feet.

"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but Mathew's curfew is coming up and we have a long way to travel," Jace stated, and when Christopher opened his mouth to argue, Jace added. "Dante's orders."

"Thank you for your hospitality," Mathew said and bent down, sliding out of Christopher's arms. He quickly returned to Jace's side, and his loudest worries dissipated into whispers.

"No problem. I meant what I said. Don't be a stranger."

Mathew bowed his head as Jace touched the small of his back, ushering him out of this horrible, dimly lit room. Mathew quickly gave his goodbyes and handed over his drink. The car was there as soon as they exited the house, and Jace opened the door for him. Mathew collapsed inside, rattling out a long sigh.

"I can't believe it. They gave me alcohol and didn't even warn me," Mathew said, so tired his bones ached. His heart didn't stop slamming against his chest since they arrived. His insides must be full of black and blue bruises.

Jace clenched his jaw tightly. He got into the driver's seat but didn't settle there. He leaned over Mathew, grabbing his seatbelt. Surprised, Mathew got up and took it from him. "Hey, I got it..." He buckled himself and Jace threw his back against the driver's seat, before turning the keys and starting for the driveway.

"I suppose it's the same as all the other times I've been tricked," Mathew said, feeling so small. "You're right. I deserve it."

"What?" Jace hit the brakes and put the car in park. "When did I say that?"

"You basically said I deserve to get bullied, remember?"

"Playground flirting and negging is not the same as what that asshole was up to."

"You're..." Mathew studied the angry lines in Jace's face, but noticed the softness in his eyes. He was angry, but Mathew got the target wrong. He asked to be sure, "You're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you? I'm not mad at you. I'm just mad." Jace drove off again, shaking his head and gripping the wheel until his knuckles were white. "I don't care how rich or old or whatever you are. A prick is a prick. If I lived in that house, I would go absolutely insane. They're like cartoons, it's so ridiculous."