There was no farewell. No glance back at the child she’d brought into the world. Just the rapid staccato of heels on polished boards fading down the hall.
The sound of tough love.
It wasn’t a bad parenting approach and definitely had its place. But if tough love was all a child received, it didn’t work.
I turned my attention to the girl, her posture stick-straight and head angled away from the door. I didn’t need to see her eyes to know they were blinking back tears.
Sadness, anxiety, fear. In about three seconds, she was going to channel all that into anger and direct it at me.
Three.
Her breathing quickened.
Two.
She clenched her hands.
One.
“Send me home.” She twisted to face me, her words rushing out. “I don’t belong here. I’ll never believe in your outdated religion or follow your stupid rules. You’ll regret every second that I’m here. So tell her you changed your mind. Go before she leaves. Tell her I’m not a good fit for your school, and you don’t want me here.”
“No.”
“Maybe I didn’t make myself clear.” She gnashed her teeth. “I’m going to fuck up every plan you have for me. Swear to God, my fuckups will be epic.”
“That’s okay. Your punishments will be just as epic as your fuckups.”
“You…” Her chin jerked back. “Priests don’t curse.”
“How do you know? Have you ever met one?”
“No, but this can’t be… It’s not normal.” She shrunk back a little, her palms sliding over her thighs. Then she straightened, her gaze fixed across the room. “You, the bat, the bars on the windows… None of this feels right.”
It was time to educate her on a few things.
I sat on the edge of the desk beside her, resting an elbow on my thigh. “We’ve had a number of peregrine falcons venturing down from the mountains. They nest on the church and along the window ledges. It wasn’t a problem until the fledglings started flying into the glass and breaking their necks. After the third dead falcon, I had the bars installed. We haven’t seen a death since.”
Her blue stare lost its venom, and I knew, even though she would never admit it, that I’d found her soft spot.
She had a weakness for vulnerable things.
So do I.
“Bats are sexually dimorphic. Females are larger. Easy to identify.” I leaned in, hardening my expression. “Your pup was an adult male, and it didn’t fall to its death. Unless it had rabies. In that case, a quick death would’ve been merciful.”
I knew the damn thing had flown off, but I would check the area beneath the window to be sure.
“Six other priests live on campus.” I stood, holding her unblinking gaze. “When you meet them, you’ll have a point of reference against which I may be compared. Until then, refrain from making uneducated assumptions.” I headed toward the door. “Follow me.”
She obeyed without comment or attitude. A refreshing change. But it wouldn’t last.
I led her down the stairs and through the main building. On the ground floor, the din of voices announced a full dining hall before the crowd came into view.
Tomorrow marked the start of a new school year, and the girls were celebrating, reuniting with friends after summer break, and meeting the incoming freshmen.
Had things gone differently during her intake meeting, I would’ve allowed Tinsley to join in the festivities. Instead, I kept walking, expecting her to follow.
She lingered at the entrance, taking in the party. “What are they doing?”
“Eating, dancing, having fun. All the privileges you lost tonight.” I rounded the next corner without slowing. “Keep up.”
“Since when is eating a privilege?” She charged after me. “I’m starving.”
“You should’ve considered that before you opened your mouth.” I paused, throwing her words back at her. “I won’t take this moment from you. When you make mistakes, you’ll learn from them.”
She huffed. “I’m not a bat—”
“I make no allowances for disrespect. Every ungrateful remark, eye roll, and gesture will be punished. Nod if you understand.”
Her cheeks hollowed. She crossed her arms. Shifted her weight. Blew out a breath. Then she nodded.
“Good. Now stop dragging your feet.”
CHAPTER 5
MAGNUS
During the ten-minute walk to the dormitories, Tinsley kept pace with my longer strides, all the while pushing her bottom lip forward in an expression of discontent. Or maybe her lip naturally rested that way.
Pouty.
Sexy.
No, Christ. I snatched away the thought before it drew breath.
I couldn’t think it, whether it was true or not. But there was something else appealing about her at the moment.
Her silence.
Sweet, glorious silence.
When she wasn’t talking, she seemed older. More mature. With a lithe figure and self-assured gait, she carried herself with refinement and grace. Not in a deliberate way. No, she tried very hard to exude defiance and hostility. But when she let her guard down, her breeding shone through.
Obedience was second nature to her.
Submissive obedience.
That whisper of truth was harder to snuff out. It spoke directly to the parts of me I longed to forget.