Chapter Two

A week had passed since Viktor's scare. He hadn't had one since then, but he was being closely monitored in case anything changed.

School had started up again, but none of the group went. Blayne and Azyriah had asked their teachers for schedules and homework, while Azyriah took the liberty of teaching everyone their classes along with his. Jordeyn nudged Viktor's side, catching his attention, "what're your classes?" With a whisper.

He stared at her, confusion and silent laughter etching his face, "why would you like to know? You're too young to be in any of the classes with us."

"Viktor, if you want to be such a dick about everything, do it silently. She isn't too young to be in the classes with us either. Taking a look at this," Cayden snarked, pulling up her schedule, "she's in AP History. With the rest of us. So, if you'd like to continue with your little rant of 'she's too young,' do it silently or I'll knock your head through a wall." Everyone stared at him in shock. Never, had anyone stood up to Viktor about anyone. He tended to appear terrifying to anyone who didn't know him well. Viktors mouth gaped open, shocked, that she had managed to make it into the class. Ms. Merrit wasn't a great teacher, but she was beyond strict with who took her class.

"I'm sorry, but what class do I have?" She snatched the paper from Cayden's hand, scanning across the whole, "oh hell no … wait- Ms. Merrit, teaches the class? How did I get in?"

"That's what I'm also wondering, sweetheart. How did you manage to get into the class? By giving the old crank a lap dance? Yeah, I could see you doing that." Viktor flinched as Jordeyn threw her backpack at him, "and thank God we're in a hospital … it appears as if you want to lengthen my stay here." A smirk grew on his lips, sarcasm leaking through every pore in his body. "But Cayden, do tell us, how did you manage to get into the class? You didn't pass history or calculus last year, so what would make Ms. Merrit allow you into the class." A dramatic gasp left his mouth as he pointed between the two, "did you give each other lap dances to get into the class?" His eyes grew as big as saucers, "I see how it is. You both whored your way into the class-"

"Okay, Viktor, that is more than enough." Blayne clenched her jaw, glaring daggers his way.

"It's called a miracle," Jordeyn retorted, "obviously something we all need if we have Ms. Merrit. And Viktor, you better fucking pray that you don't wind up dead."

"Or what, you'll skewer my brain? I'd like to see you try, love." He was testing her. Viktor was testing her and she gave into it. She hadn't even realized it, but yet, here she was, engaging in an argument with him when she knew better than to do so.

"You know what? That sounds like a remarkable idea. I'll keep it in my thoughts and do so when I please to. Meanwhile, stay out of my way, and don't bother me."

"Whatever you say princess."

"Okay, you know what? I'm done with the pet names. Don't call me love, darling, princess, or sweetheart. It's disgusting. You may either call me Jordeyn or Jorde. Nothing else. And I don't want to have to tell you again.

"Once again, whatever you say, Jordeyn."

"Thank you."

They were never like this: snarky, cold, distant, or distasteful. They had always been close, no matter what got between them, but his aura was alarming to Jordeyn. She could sense urgency, anger, hunger. Things she'd never seen Viktor experience.