Page 82 of Glutton for Punishment

“You are a target, Arwen,” she says. “If conflict escalates—and based on what you’ve told us, it will—knowing what his family can do could save your life.”

Tabby nods in agreement.

I sigh. “You’re right… I just didn’t want to add to the nightmare fuel. They’re bad enough without adding powers into the mix.”

“You should ask him,” Cleo says, patting me on the knee.

“Are you prepared if something naughty might happen?” Tabby asks scandalously.

“Like… an attack?” I ask, confused.

“No Arwen! You prude. Like if something sexual were to happen with Maddox. Are you on birth control?”

“I am not a prude! I was on it back in Wrath. It was free there, but it was sort of the last thing on my mind at the academy last year when I was… oh, you know. Trying to survive!” I say.

“You’re in a bond now, Arwen. You need to be prepared if something steamy happens. Otherwise, we’ll never get to hear all the fun details. Go to the health clinic when you’re back at the academy. It’s free there too. Unless you want a bunch of little sinless babies running around Grand Daddy West’s creepy Orgy tower.”

Cleo throws a small tool at Tabby, missing. She’s right. And she’s also unlocked a new top fear in me.

A knock sounds at the door, interrupting our talk as all three of us freeze.

I move toward it cautiously and pull the door open to find a servant standing there in a crisp black uniform, hands folded in front of him. He keeps his eyes lowered.

“Lady Arwen.”

Lady? Is this guy for real?

He extends a cream-colored envelope toward me. My name is across the front in elegant script. It sends chills down my spine.

Only Maddox and his approved people have come by my room since I arrived—usually to drop off food, deliver a message, or make sure I haven’t somehow set the place on fire from boredom.

“Thank you,” I say, taking it. He bows once and leaves without another word.

I shut the door, turning the envelope over in my hands. A wax seal with the West family crest. That can’t be good.

“What is it?” Tabby asks.

I break it open, clear my throat, and read aloud.

Arwen Davies,

We request your presence in the Grand Hall at your earliest convenience.

— Councilor West

“Nope,” Tabby says. “Absolutely not. Hate that.”

My pulse kicks up. “Maddox isn’t here? He wants me alone?”

Cleo’s expression darkens as a dozen worst-case scenarios hit me all at once.

I pull out my phone and text Maddox.

Arwen: Councilor West summoned me to the Grand Hall. Did you know about this?

I move before panic can settle too deeply. I shove hangers aside until I spot the pantsuit Maddox had delivered after catching me salivating over Valentine’s outfit when she came to warn us.

“If I don’t go, it looks suspicious,” I mutter, shoving the outfit on. “The servant will report back that he delivered it.”