Academy of Shifters: Teacher's Pet (Veiled World) by Marisa Claire

Author:Marisa Claire [Claire, Marisa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Torment Publishing
Published: 2020-06-18T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

“You want to drink, baby girl?” Mom slammed two tall glasses of frothy pink liquid down on the rolling tray table, startling me out of the stupor I’d fallen into. “Well, here’s your chance.”

“Mooooom, nooooo,” I moaned, flopping against the armchair’s lumpy backrest.

She rolled the table closer to me so she could squeeze past it. Grunting, she carefully lowered herself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. “Just do it, Remi.”

I slumped to the side, hanging dramatically over the arm of the chair until my nose and lips were smushed against the worn, beige fabric. “Please,” I mumbled. “This lesson is learnt.”

“Learned,” Mom auto-corrected. “And this isn’t a punishment, honey. It’s a necessity. See? I have one too.”

I pushed up until both elbows were resting on the chair arm. Mom leaned forward, wincing, and tugged the table so it sat an even distance between us. I watched through fallen strands of hair as she pulled one glass closer to her side and pushed the other closer to mine. She squinted at me.

“You got drunk and cut your hair.” She clucked her tongue. “Such a rebel, my girl.”

“Winter cut my hair.” I ran a self-conscious hand through my new layers.

Mom smiled. “Beautiful. I can’t even tell she was drinking.”

My mouth fell open. “How did you know?”

“I didn’t.” She lifted a smug eyebrow. “Until now.”

I groaned and buried my face in my folded elbows. The dull pounding in the back of my head had completed its arc over the top of my skull and settled into a sharp, constant stabbing right behind my eyes, which exploded into pinpoints of light any time I moved too quickly. Apparently, I was what some might call a lightweight.

Mom tapped an insistent finger on the tabletop. “Drink.”

I lifted my head until I was eye level with the filmy bubbles at the top of my glass. Just looking at the rancid mystery mixture made my esophagus convulse. I slapped both hands over my mouth and swallowed bile.

“I cannot drink that right now,” I wheezed.

“You can.” She lifted her own glass, swirled the froth in front of her nose, and cringed. “And we will.”

“Wait,” I said, sitting up straight. “You’re not a wolf. You can’t have lupine electrolytes.”

She rolled her eyes and lowered the glass. “Everyone gets the exact same thing, sugar. I just figured out a long time ago that kids are more likely to swallow something if you make them think it’s especially for them somehow.”

I gaped at her. All this time I’d imagined the bear and cat versions having their own unappetizing colors and completely unpalatable flavors. But she’d been sneakily forcing the same pink sludge on everyone equally. Would we ever come to the bottom of this rotten barrel of lies?

Not if you keep stalling…

“Well, anyways,” I said, drawing the ‘z’ sound out a little too long. “I’m fine. I don’t need—”

“I don’t care how you feel!” She banged her glass on the table, splashing globs of apparently universal electrolytes onto the fake wood surface.

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