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Why in the fucking world would she ever want to be part of a group like this? Why would she fucking put herself through their bullshit? What happened to her during Trials? My sweet, innocent sister…
I never asked. Once you’re in the Knights’ grasp, you’re not supposed to talk about it. And to be honest, I didn’t fucking care. That was Dee’s thing, not mine.
Not mine.
I suck in a ragged breath, almost afraid to let it all out. I haven’t let it out, not any. I could’ve drank myself into a stupor like my father. I could’ve walked around our enormous house as a zombie like my mother. But no, someone had to keep their shit together. Be strong. Faking the façade. It’s what Astors are the best at, right? My heart squeezes, and I fall forward, placing my forehead on the wood floors, my fingernails biting into the wood. I’m going to break.
A knock sounds on my door. “Edie love?”
My head snaps up, panic rising. I don’t want Oliver to see me like this. I don’t want anyone to see me like this. Taking in a deep breath, I hold it while forcing a smile to my face. “What’s up, Number Five?” My hands shake, and I suck in another muted breath to hold myself steady. Oliver sees too much. If I give him any inkling of what I’m going through right now, I’ll end up with my door hanging off the hinges.
“You okay?”
Shaking my head, the first tear starts to fall as all of my surroundings press in. I blow out a quick breath and paste the façade on my face again. “Yeah. Just tired, you know? I think I bored myself to sleep back there.” The lie makes my stomach clench with the need to purge myself of it.
Oliver tries the doorknob, but it catches on the lock. “Edie, you know I’m here for you. You can be straight with me.”
“I’m fine,” I spit too tersely. I grimace, closing my eyes so tightly that stars dance across my vision. “Just jumping into bed,” I try again, praying my best friend will just leave it for now.
I know he’d help me. He’d take me into his arms, make sure I’m comfortable on the bed. Hell, he’d probably even bring me hot tea, put in my favorite movie, and hold me all night, because that’s what Oliver does.He loves.
But love is what brought me to this moment. It’s caring too much. It’s letting someone crawl under my skin and live there. My sister did all of those things, and I just can’t right now. Because of her, I’m having a panic attack in my room after being abducted by a secret society who’s playing it off as if it’s all just fun and games. A secret society who may have killed my sister.
“If you’re sure…”
“Yep,” I strangle out. “All good.”
The floorboards creak when he walks away, and I let out awhoosh. Pretending to be something you’re not is draining, like tiny, stinging cuts all over your body. I feel the slices more when I’m lying to Oliver because I know he’d do anything for me.Anything.
His footsteps climb to his room, and I’m about to drag myself to my feet and go after him when a key slides into the lock. It twists, and my door opens with a creak. Glaring over my shoulder, expecting to find the big thug Leo, my mouth parts when it’s not him.
It’s not Oliver either.
It’s Alaric Barclay.
His hair sticks on end, his face strained—something I hadn’t noticed in the car. He must be at least six years older than me, but right now, he could pass for even older than that. His gaunt features pass like a shadow over his presence, making me think today’s events took their toll on all of us.
After closing the door and relocking, he slips forward, taking in my odd position. His lips thin, and my hackles raise at his look of pity. I crawl away, but that doesn’t stop his approach. He catches up to me easily, and I shift to stare straight into his striking green eyes as they assess me. Fear bubbles to the surface again, and I gasp at the near physical blow of anxiety when it punches me in the gut.
My professor bends, stretching an arm around my shoulders, fingertips brushing over my buzzing skin. His other hand slides under my knees, and he lifts me from the floor, cradling me like a child until he moves with ease to the bed. “He’s a good friend. You shouldn’t shut him out.”
Tears gather in the corner of my eyes. “I know.”
He sets me on the bed, staring for a few tortured seconds before sliding in beside me with a sigh. Moving my pillow against the headboard, he rests against it then holds his arm out. I bite my lip, staring at the invitation. We’re crossing all sorts of lines if I do this. “Don’t tell the class.”
His joke—if that was what it was supposed to be—falls flat. It was more like a threat, a nod to our current circumstances.
What a scandal. Teacher and student. The watcher and the watched.
He smells good—like old, expensive cologne. The distinct aroma you would imagine his grandfather’s grandfather also wore. It’s too enticing to pass up, so I move in, settling my head on his firm chest. “Are you Alaric right now? Or my professor?”
“Neither. I’m dumb,” he says immediately, his fingertips gripping my upper arm. “Call me fucking stupid.” My body locks up at his tone, but he pulls me even closer, his chest moving up and down in a steady rhythm. His expelled breath tickles my hair. “I’m not your professor right now, but the next time you have a fucking panic attack and shut yourself in your room, you’re going to get punished. Understand?”
I’m not quite sure how he’s taken my innocent question and turned it into something so dirty. My body flushes as the images of him getting his cock sucked flood my addled brain. Whether he meant it as a sexy taunt or not, my body went there because his allure is just too much. If only he wasn’t a Knight…
Fuck.Why the hell am I lying in bed with one of them? He’s probably taking notes to give to the Elders. He can tell them how badly this Trial fucked me up so they can do worse next time.
I try to pull away, but he tugs me right back. “This is your fault. You sent away your friend, so now you only have me.” His grip on my forearm is a little too strong to be comforting. It’s just this shy of possession. “Relax,” he sighs, even though his tone does everything but make me want to do so.