Morningstar asked after the rest of the students had left for the evening. “And what’s it to you?” Caraway tossed her head in defiance of whatever plot he’d hatched in his Infernal brain. “It’s nothing to me, but obviously everything to you.” He stepped into the sallow light of the candelabra, the dingy colour of the tallow light somehow making his dark countenance even more perfect. Not that she noticed he was perfect, or handsome, or... “Shove off. All you ever do is talk about Bendopolous. Why don’t you fuck him?” “Not my thing.” Alexander shrugged, unfazed by the insinuation. He reclined nonchalantly in the seat next to her. “But you—you might be my thing.” He eyed her appreciatively. “Only because I was dating Bendopolous,” she retorted, though secretly the idea thrilled her and she could feel the flush that started with the heat between her thighs and was quickly scorching up her body to her face. She turned on him, irritated he’d affected her so.
