The Last Dragon Shifter

Chapter Thirty-Four

Stifling a yawn, Naomi listened to Lark chattering on. Exhausted from the previous night, she found it hard to focus on her roommate's retelling of the details. She was too busy trying to stay awake as they shuffled through the lunch line.

"I mean, it was pretty good up until the end. I think I've got a new favorite band—Soraya's one, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember." Naomi dully scooped mashed potatoes onto her plate.

"Shame what happened to Malcolm, though," Lark said in a secretive whisper.

At her mention of the incident, Naomi glanced over her shoulder. Over at their usual table, Malcolm sat with his friends, and Alicia mothered him, touching his injured hand and asking him pressing questions. Naomi wasn't sure what his answers were, but she hoped he would leave her out of it. The last thing she wanted was more bickering with Alicia. The girl had been playing the doting girlfriend all day, grating on Naomi's nerves. It wasn't like Malcolm's limb had been cut off. It was merely singed.

Before Naomi could respond to Lark, a heavy hand landed on her shoulder. Turning, Naomi spotted Sam with a huge, encouraging grin on his face.

"No," Naomi groaned.

"Sorry, hun. But Figgis got called away again. Doctor's appointment this time, I think," Sam said.

"I'm on lunch duty again?" Naomi asked.

His amused nod settled the matter. Reluctantly detaching from Lark, Naomi trailed Sam over to Malcolm's table. He greeted them politely enough, but Alicia pretended they didn't exist, which was fine by Naomi. Doing her best to return the favor, Naomi focused on her plate. Her efforts were in vain as Alicia's shrill whining was difficult to ignore.

"How long will it take to heal?"

"A couple of days, I suppose. I have some mint hazelwick salve to speed up the recovery process." Malcolm tried to brush her off by returning to his food, but he had difficulty handling his silverware.

"See?" Alicia said piteously. "You can barely eat."

"It's fine, love. I'll be okay."

"I told you, you shouldn't have gone on your own. Roland's practically useless."

"Hey, don't blame me," the offended party chimed in. Roland nodded toward Naomi accusingly. "His guard wasn't much help, either."

Naomi and Malcolm's eyes both swiveled to him in shock.

"Seriously, man?" Malcolm said to him, voicing Naomi's own inner retort.

"Wait a damn minute," Sam interjected. "You told me the two of you were doing an experiment for class, and that's how it happened. Did you leave the school? And you said nothing?" Sam had a fury in his eyes Naomi had never seen.

"There wasn't time." She shrunk away from him.

"Sam, don't blame her. It was my idea. She tried to stop me," Malcolm said.

"You're defending her? And you took her with you?" Alicia pushed at Malcolm's shoulder.

"She didn't give me much of a choice. She followed me. Tried to protect me," Malcolm said, mainly directing his explanations to Sam. Naomi didn't know whether she should be pleased he was defending her or terrified of the way Sam's jaw ticked in suppressed rage.

"Sam, don't you dare tell my father. Or Figgis," Malcolm ordered.

"I can't let this go, Prince Malcolm. You know that. Your father—"

"My father doesn't need to get involved."

"What you and Naomi did—"

"No." Malcolm raised a warning finger. "If you do go against me and tell him, I won't let you get Naomi in trouble. Don't mention her name. Do you understand me?"