Andria's POV
The restraint in his voice was steel. It was control, the kind that infuriated Jackson even more than any insult.
Jackson's smile tightened, but he stepped back, gesturing to his group. "Let's go."
Allison shot me a venomous glance before trailing after him. Alexa and Tricia muttered as they followed, like pests buzzing in the air.
When they were gone, the field seemed to exhale.
"Coward," Damon muttered, slamming his bat into the dirt.
"Provoker," Aven corrected. His gaze lingered on Jackson's retreating figure. "And we don't have to give him what he wants."
"The answer to your previous question about Liara's whereabouts, she retired back to her dormitory, she said she wasn't feeling okay, but I feel like she is in her heat," Becca whispered, twisting her mouth into a weird grin.
What could have triggered her heat?.
Michaela exhaled hard. "Do they ever stop?"
"No," I said simply. "And that's why we won't either."
