average human’s Reviews > Don't Touch > Status Update

His British accent is unmistakable, his voice deep and resonant, a stark contrast to the chaos he brings. My chest tightens, and I feel a cold sweat forming on my palms.
Unlike the rest of the world, we don’t really have a discernible accent here on the compound. I’ve still got the colloquialisms from my English heritage, but my accent has faded. The vast majority of people here have lived here for generations, and those who haven’t lose their accent quickly.
It’s some sort of protection entity for the compound, based on the texts I’ve read. Interesting, but then again, anything is when compared with the arrogant man-child in front of me.
He’s so fucking stupid if he thinks proclaiming me as his mate would actually work.
I hate him.
I roll my eyes, looking him up and down with an assessing look, to try and gauge his worth, before immediately dismissing him. My chromius is intrigued, but I think more by the mate claim than the man himself.
He’s got black curly hair that looks messy and unkempt, and his clothes scream that he comes from money. He’s slim, with a little bit of a muscular physique, but he doesn’t set my panties on fire, so clearly, he’s a liar.
I smirk, trying to remain calm despite the fury radiating through me. “Good try.”
“You two are mates?” Glenda asks, her voice dripping with undisguised humour.
Hm, it seems she’s dropping the fake warmth in favour of gossip. That didn’t last long before her real personality showed through.
“Nope,” I say, shaking my head, my hands clenching at the thought. “Not only do I not like men, but⁠—”
“You’re into women?” the man interrupts, his eyes widening even more. “But I have a dick.”
I snort, despite myself. His cluelessness is almost amusing. “Your dick is my least favourite thing about you, and I already dislike you. A lot.”
“I see,” he says, whilst clearly not seeing a single thing.
“This is Maeve,” Glenda says, eyeing us both with open curiosity. “Maeve, this is Julian Graves.”
It’s like someone’s thrown a bucket of ice cold water over me with the way everything in me settles. I clench my fists together, my nails digging into my palms, in an effort to calm myself down.
Bile burns my throat, but I refuse to lose my composure in front of Adrian’s spawn.
“Of fucking course, it is.” I sigh, spinning back around on my chair so I don’t need to look at him any more. I want to be sick.
I can’t… do this any more. My vision blurs, my breathing quickens, and a cold sweat breaks out on my forehead. I take a small breath, trying to ground myself, but the panic attack grips me tightly.
That fucking man probably put his spawn up to this just to spite me.
The man’s scent is the most obvious reason for me to believe this is all a ruse. Old paper, peppermint, and just a hint of oak. It’s not hard to predict I’d like the smell of old paper since I spend all day in a library, and my favourite tea is peppermint.
It’s predictable and embarrassing that they’d go that low just to try and trick me.
Adrian has always been a pain in my ass, but I never thought he was stupid.
“What? Does my name offend you now, too?” Julian asks, sounding amused, as if this is all just a joke to him.
I spin on my chair, resting my forearms on the armrests, trying to ground myself. Julian’s presence is a violation of my solitude, a forced intrusion into the one thing that I made mine.
Staring at him now, it’s easy to see the similarities between him and Adrian. Their shared smirk that’s haunted my nightmares for far too long.
It’s annoying as fuck but sure makes hating him easier.
“It does when your…” I trail off, trying to figure out his connection to Adrian. “Father? Uncle? Grandfather?”
I know he has no children with his current mate, but it would be amusing if he had a bastard out there. For me, probably not for him or her.
“I’m assuming you mean my uncle,” Julian mutters, crossing his arms in front of his chest. The pout on his face, combined with the sadness in his scent, makes a smirk appear on my face. He’s acting like a little boy who is realising he’s not all it.
It must be humbling.
“I must,” I say with a shrug as if it means so very little to me. “He’s a thorn in my side, and I hate him just a little bit more than I hate you.”
“Well, at least I’m not at the top of the most hated list,” he says, stepping forward with his hand outstretched. My chromius hisses in my mind as unwanted memories try to force their way into my consciousness.
He looks at me like I’m stupid when I make no move to shake his hand, and his annoyingly perfect brows raise. He doesn’t understand that touch is a currency I’ll never be able to afford.
“I don’t touch,” I say with a shrug. He frowns, wrinkles appearing in his forehead. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You don’t touch men? Or do you not touch anyone?” His tone raises in pitch.
“I don’t answer questions of men who don’t deserve it,” I reply, turning away from him to look at Glenda. “Now, you’ve brought him in, he’s got to see me and what the room looks like, so you’re welcome to leave any time now.”
My eyes sting, my throat burning, as I try my best to get rid of them both. I need this interaction to be over. I need to breathe, I need people to stop looking at me, and honestly, I need to cry.
Why couldn’t Adrian just let me have this one thing? He’s a selfish prick and hating him isn’t enough.
“I’m starting today,” Julian says, and Glenda gapes at him because, clearly, this wasn’t the plan. His eyes dart to me in a meaningful gesture, and my chromius whines in my mind.
I don’t know why she’s whining, but I don’t care enough to find out. I refuse to let him get the upper hand, so I rise to my feet.
Glenda’s eyes are lit up in glee as she continues watching this show, but Julian’s baby blues narrow as he takes my actions in.
“Well, this room is too small for two, so I’ll be on my way, and he can get himself started,” I say with a tight smile as my heart completely shatters. “After all, we don’t both need to be working at the same time, right, Glenda?”
My tone is as pointed as the death glare I give her in an effort to stay composed.
She sighs, some of the humour fading from her. “I’ll have to talk to Adrian⁠—”
“Oh, don’t you worry,” I say bitterly. “He knows exactly where to find me, and I have no doubt he’ll come as soon as you call.”
Like the over-controlling asshole that he is, my legal guardian is the legal owner of my house, and so as much as I do my best to lock him out, he’ll come knocking anyway.
I don’t know why he still bothers trying to connect with me, but thankfully, he’s the only one who does. I’ve effectively pushed everyone else away, or more honestly, as soon as they saw how damaged I was, they left.
It’s a lonely life living as Maeve Quinn.
But I don’t give a fuck because it’s better than letting anyone get close enough to hurt me. I’ve been there and done that with the people who are meant to protect you the most.
My birth father is dead—don’t feel bad since it was me who killed him, apparently—and my mother and stepfather are imprisoned with no chance of seeing the sun again after what they did to me.
Our extended family who weren’t imprisoned turned their backs on me the moment everything happened as if it was all my fault. This meant at seventeen years old, I was surrendered to the Tribunal of the Chosen so that they could decide my fate.
And as a mythical creature, it was very clear what that fate was going to be.
But, of course, I was spited that much further to not only be a chromius but to be the last one of my kind. I’m such a lucky girl.
Adrian didn’t back down from the mess that my case was, and once he assigned himself as my legal guardian, he started trying to fix me and mould me. At first, I let it happen, too numb from my trauma to resist.
He immediately set out on getting my inheritance—it’s nice being rich, even if the poor little rich girl is another stereotype I fit into—whilst making sure I was there to prosecute everyone who hurt me, and those in my pack, who were committing crimes.
The therapy Adrian forced me into with Dr. Jones was supposed to help me heal, help me prepare. But all he really cared about was whether I’d be mentally well enough not to embarrass him. Every session felt like a performance, and every slip-up was a failure.
When the therapy didn’t fix me the way he wanted, he moved on to making me be a productive member of his crappy little society. I’ve lost countless jobs here because people don’t understand a thing called boundaries, and I’m not going to sit back and let myself be walked all over.
Not again.
But Adrian’s still here, still forcing his way in, still adding stipulation after stipulation as he continues controlling my every single move.
Which only makes me try that much harder to push him away.
Is it too much to ask to be free?
“What’s that look on her face for?” the liar whispers to Glenda, his eyes trained on me, the same way someone would watch a feral animal.
I quite like the look. He’s afraid.
If only I had an animal to unleash, I could make the message stick so much better.
“She does this a lot. Just ignore it. She’s a little,” Glenda says, and rather than finishing her sentence by saying the word crazy, she just tilts her head and circles her index finger around her temple as she laughs.
To his credit, Julian doesn’t laugh with her. In another negative mark against him though, he snarls at her and utters, “Do not insult my mate in front of me.”
That snaps me out of my silence, and I tap my foot once against the floor, getting his attention. His blue eyes meet mine, and I hope he can see how serious I am. “If I wanted defending, I’d defend myself. Do not take it upon yourself to act as my mouthpiece.”
He nods, his jaw tight, but I don’t care if I’ve hurt his delicate little feelings. He’s here for one thing and one thing only.
I’m not going to let that happen.
I’ve already had plenty of men think they can touch me because another man says it’s okay.
But this is my body, and I vowed nobody else would ever get a say on what is done to it.
I never thought Adrian would stoop this low. He’s passively allowed one of his men to touch me and escape the consequences because, clearly, it was me who overreacted.
Because, of course, an eighteen-year-old girl telling a grown man to not touch me and that I am not interested is not technically a no, so it’s permissible.
I never thought Adrian, with all his big promises of safety and reassurances that nobody would ever cross a boundary like that in this safe compound, would let that happen and blame me.
But he did.
It should’ve been another mark against his name, but it wasn’t. It was a mark against mine.
“Enjoy my job, pretty boy. I’d have trained you if you weren’t coming and stealing it from me.” He pales, and his eyes flash pink. As if I give a fuck what mythical he’s got hidden inside of him or how my words make the horrible beast feel.
“I’ll see you all later,” I lie.
And then I skirt around the two of them, making sure not to touch a single part of them, and exit through the doorway, ignoring both their calls for me to return.
There is nothing they could offer me to continue working there. And, honestly, after this little stunt, Adrian’s got very little he can offer me to stay within the mythical compound.