ELLA POV
By Saturday evening, I had reached one very important conclusion.
Frederic Holloway avoiding me was fantastic.
Honestly.
Life-changing.
Possibly medicinal.
Four days had passed since I had headbutted him hard enough to repaint the bottom half of his face, and in those four days he had managed not to speak to me once.
He still existed, unfortunately.
I saw him in class. At breakfast. In the training hall. Once across the library, where he had been talking to one of the older staff members near the staircase leading toward the restricted floor.
But he hadn’t come near me.
Hadn’t called me McGinley.
Hadn’t called me little Alpha either.
Hadn’t found an excuse to corner me against anything while asking questions he had no f*****g business asking.
It was wonderful.
Peacef
