Exiled by Rashelle Workman Page B

direction. One even called her a name—tramp—whatever that meant.
    “What’s their problem?” Venus asked.
    “They’re angry at you, V.”
    “Why? What did I do?” Her body gravitated closer to Zaren.
    “You’re a girl and he’s fresh meat.” Dervinias inclined his head toward Zaren.
    “What?”
    “They want him. But they think you’ve already got your scrawny claws in him. It ticks them off.”
    “Oh.” She realized she could feel their anger, like pointed daggers in her flesh.
    “Cret! Zaren, you’d better let go.”
    Both of the guys chuckled. But Zaren dropped his hand.
    She couldn’t blame them for desiring the guys. They were both incredibly handsome, especially Zaren. Perhaps it was that they were kelvieri, but in contrast to the other boys (actually all humans), it was as though Zaren and Dervinias were in complete focus while everyone else was blurry. She especially liked the way Zaren looked in human clothes. He wore a long-sleeved, brown shirt and a dark pair of stone-washed jeans (that’s what Dervinias called them), with Dr. Marten boots. His black hair and lime green eyes made him breathtaking.
    Zaren shifted his head slightly and caught her checking him out. He gave her a secret smile. “Focus, Princess.”
    “You focus,” she said, feeling her face flush that he’d caught her. Since she’d come to this crazy world, she’d been unable to control her feelings. They kept creeping in. Maybe it was because she wasn’t being forced to behave like a princess all day.
    Kinsfolk weren’t following her every move, every minute of every day, watching what she ate so they could copy it. If Venus had Incaria tea to drink with breakfast, then that was all the rage until she switched to a new drink or a new meal or . . . whatever. If she had the court designers shorten her coverlettes by even an inch, the rest of the females noticed and by the next day, theirs were shortened too.
    When Venus wore trousers, they wore trousers. If she chose to learn a new weapon, all of the women were doing the same. The men too, sometimes. If she got sick, suddenly half the kels in the kingdom were ill. At times, it drove her insane.
    Her mom explained that they copied her as a sign of admiration, that it was important and her obligation as their one-day leader. She said Venus should worry if they ever stopped. Venus tried to be understanding. Her mother’s words made sense, but it was still exasperating. The only thing most kels wouldn’t copy was her irrihunter flying. They were Kelari’s most feared animal. Sadraden had saved Venus, kept her sane. And now she was dead.
    “I’ve never flown on one.” Dervinias gave Venus a blinding, white smile.
    Zaren looked back at her, sympathy carved on his face.
    “You two need to stay out of my head.” She smacked them both in the arms.
    Dervinias laughed out loud. “Sure thing, V.”
    She doubted he’d stop.
    Zaren shrugged, which meant he didn’t think Dervinias would stop either. She smacked Dervinias again.
    “Damn, girl,” he said rubbing his bicep.
    South High School was made of brick. Different shades of brown, mustard and every shade in between. Row after row of windows lined the walls. The school looked to be three stories high. Ugly . The front doors were a pumpkin orange. Zaren reached them first and held one side opened. Dervinias walked through and swatted him in the stomach.
    “Thanks man.”
    Venus let out a snort at the glare Zaren gave Dervinias. “Thank you, Zaren.” She smiled big, a bolt of happiness zinging her heart.
    He smiled back and followed behind, letting the door swing shut. “You’re welcome.”
    They tried to keep up with Dervinias as they zigzagged through the throngs of students and teachers. Venus immediately had the urge to bolt back outside. The air hung thick with all sorts of odors, the overall effect revolting. Zaren reached over and grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze.
    “I agree. This place is . . .