Page 104

103

Summer

I arrive at the gym, but I hesitate before I go in. I don't particularly want to see Max, but I really need to work out. My head has been busy since last night, and so much happened yesterday that I need a release. I take a steadying breath before I enter and avoid looking at Max as I pass the desk.

"Ready to fight?" Max asks as if nothing happened yesterday. He acts as if he wasn't a complete asshole when I was trying to make light of a situation.

"Eat a bag of dicks." I snap back.

The anger surges within me before I've even acknowledged it. Too much has happened, and all I want to do is work out in peace. I don't want to worry about what is going on with Max. He hurt my feelings yesterday, and I am frustrated and scared. Max is a dick, and he deserves my anger, but I don't like feeling so volatile.

I walk to the treadmill and start running. I immediately feel the benefits of it. That is until Max's stupid face appears in front of the machine.

"Woah, what was that for?"

I ignore him, looking over his shoulder and concentrating on the large window behind him. In my peripheral vision, I see Max bend down and the treadmill comes to a stop. I glare at him and step off that treadmill to hop onto the one next to it. Max waits for me to start running and then unplugs that one, too.

"What's wrong with you?" Max snaps.

"You," I growl back, trying and failing to rein in my anger.

"The fuck does that mean?" Max growls.

"Given that you find me a hideous troll, I'm surprised you can even bring yourself to look at me."

"I didn't say that."

I glare at him and turn toward the stair climber. Max moves in front of me, blocking my path with his big, stupid body.

"Stop being a bitch."

I growl at him, feeling the anger building inside me.

"Stop acting like I've majorly insulted you."

"Well, you did."

Max snarls, "You're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"What the fuck did I do?"

"You have a boyfriend, and you're mad that I'm not fawning over you. Are you really so selfish that you need everyone to be in love with you?" Max's eyes flash green.

"Excuse me?"

"You are seriously mad that I didn't fall to my knees and exclaim how hot you are. When you're going home to golden boy. So why the fuck does it matter to you what I think?"

"I don't give a shit that you don't think I'm hot. It's the fact that I was trying to make light of an awkward situation, and you basically told me I was the most hideous being in all the realms. Completely unnecessary."

Max rolls his eyes. "I said you weren't my type, and that's how you took it?" Max's voice raises. "Stop acting like you're doing me a favor by coming here. And stop obsessing over whether everyone in the realm thinks you're attractive or not."

"I don't give a fuck that I'm physically desirable to some. My ugly lies beneath the surface, and it runs deep." The truth spills from me, and the pain of it hits me like a truck.

Max's anger softens a little. "So does mine." Crossing my arms over my chest, I look away but feel his gaze on me. I want to run and hide. I want to claw that truth out of existence. "We fight and pretend like we're not monsters."

I wince at his words, and I hear the pain in them. He doesn't understand me, though. He's talking about the berserker. The monster inside me is so much scarier, and it's yet to truly rear its ugly head.

"Right."

"Come on," Max says, turning on his heel and walking into the sparring room.

I follow behind him. My anger has deflated into the deepest of sorrows, and it is easier than arguing with him. I look up just in time to catch the sai Max throws at me, and I wrap my fingers around them and take a deep breath. I feel stronger with them. Maybe, in time, they will be the key to killing the ultimate villain, the monster that lurks within me, the one with the dark thoughts and even darker desires.

"Stop it. You're overthinking," Max says, swinging his sword.

"Let's just do this so I can go be a monster in my own home."

"Keep twisting my words. Let it fuel you," Max taunts.

I spin the sai, preparing to fight. I didn't twist his words. He called me a monster, and he was right. How else can I explain what's wrong with me? Why can't I find satisfaction in perfection?

"Bring it," Max growls.

I launch at him, swinging my sai in unison just as he taught me. Max doesn't hold back this time, slamming his broadsword into them. The power of the hit sends a vibration of pain through my bones, and I recede a step.

"You got it," Max says.

I push him back with my blades, leaning into my growing strength.

Max nods. "Good."

I stop and drop my arms. I feel like I've been hit by a freight train. "Max, I should go. I'm sorry."

"You're not quitting."

I hand him the sai, emotion welling inside me. Without the anger fueling me, I am drowning in the ever-present sadness.

"Goodbye, Max."

"You're not going anywhere," Max snarls.

"You don't even like me, and I can't do this today," I say, shaking my head and turning away.

"I do like you."

I give him a look over my shoulder. "Let's not start lying to each other now, Max. You think I'm an arrogant bitch, and I have my head firmly lodged up my own ass."

Max shrugs. "We're frenemies. I know there are lots of things you don't like about me."

"Frenemies?" I ask, thinking about the term. It feels more simple than friends, yet it's more pliable. The expectations are non-existent, and there is room for mistakes. It feels easier than sitting on the pedestal Alice and Connor keep putting me on. It is precarious up there, and I don't stay balanced for any length of time.

Max nods and holds out my sai. "You're not quitting this."

I look at them and then back at him, hesitating for a long beat before I turn and take them from him. While the well of despair still runs deep, I no longer feel like I'm drowning in it. I can breathe again. The air allows me to think straight, and I realize sparring may help. My brain is desperate for the endorphins, craving the feeling of power.

Max spins his sword. "And for the record, I enjoy training you."

"All I do is argue and piss you off."

"And?" Max asks, tilting his head.

I roll my eyes, but my heart lifts a little. "Ready?"

Max nods, and I swing my sai at him. He blocks it and counters with a powerful downward blow. I pull lightly at my power, enhancing my natural agility and speed. Not only do I dodge his hit, but I get in one of my own, pushing him back a few steps.

I continue to walk him back, always aware of how close we're getting to the wall. How will I get him to concede without backing him into it and inciting the same reaction I did yesterday? However, my concern is unnecessary as Max uses my distraction against me and hits one of the sai out of my hand. It clangs loudly as it hits the floor.

"Stop holding back," Max growls. He bends to pick up my sai and hands it back to me. "Give it your all. You're better than this."

Determination fills me, and I spin, the sai blurring as I slam against his defense with a strength I didn't know I had. Max loses his footing and falls to the ground. I follow him down and hold my blade to his throat. My chest heaves from the exertion, but I bask in the feeling of power and control.

Max blinks, also catching his breath. "Good."

I lower the blade, nodding.

Max's lips tug into a half smile. "I like being frenemies."

I lift an eyebrow.

"You actually challenge me when you put your mind to it."

"I'll take that as a compliment, berserker," I say with a half smile.

"It was one."

"Thanks. I've let it go straight to my head."

Max snorts and sits up. "You're too much."

I poke him playfully in the stomach. Max throws me a look, but there is a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

"What? Don't tell me the big, bad Maximillian Romulus is… ticklish."

Max rolls his eyes. "You wish."

I tickle his ribs. "Come on. You must have a tiny ticklish spot."

Max just glares at me, unimpressed. "Nope."

I try another spot at his waist but get no reaction.

"Well, then, this explains it. You don't like fun."

Max snorts and attacks, tickling me. My skin prickles, and I squeal, combusting into a shaking, giggling mess.

"Max! No!" I laugh as he continues to tickle my waist. I wriggle and squeal, trying to escape, but he easily keeps me in place.

"This is like a Summer destruct button," Max says, unrelenting.

I swat at him and roll away, wiping the tears from my eyes. "Dick."

"You started it!"

I stand and offer him my hand. He takes it, and I pull him up.

"Get out of here," Max grumbles, but his lips twitch.

"Later, weirdo." I wink at him as I leave the gym.

In the shower, I plan my night to myself. Alice is out at the greenhouse tonight. She'd said something about having to water the plant every thirty minutes. I've set some time aside for school work, but I am also going to relax with some soft, pajamas that are runed to be warm, a bottle of wine, and a facemask.

I am looking forward to it, but what I am looking forward to the most is speaking with the stranger tonight.

I pull my pajamas on and am about to apply my facemask when someone knocks on the door. I sigh but open it. Connor is standing there, his face grave.

"Hi, big guy. I thought you were going to the game with Ra?—"

"You're the target," Connor says, and I can see the betrayal in Connor's face,

My stomach drops, and I feel the blood drain from my face. "What?"

Connor steps forward, looking down at me. "How long?"

I hold his devastated gaze. "Con…" He moves past me into the room, and I push the door closed. "What makes you think that?" I ask, the lie stabbing me through the heart.

"How long have you known?" Connor asks, his voice hoarse.

I look away from him, unable to face his sadness. "Connor…"

"How long?"

"A while," I whisper. "How do you know?"

Connor whimpers softly. "Weeks?"

I close my eyes, the small sound of pain tearing through me. "Connor…"

"Months?" Connor asks.

I rub my hand over my face. "Since… the second murder."

"And you never told me."

I look at him, and the second I do, I regret it. His body has recoiled in pain, and it shines in his eyes. "Connor, please understand," I begin, my voice shaking. "I was only trying to protect you."

Connor shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair. "Protect me? How was that protecting me?"

"Con. After you saw that victim, you were… traumatized. Then, when I suspected I might be the target, I couldn't tell you because you were already struggling, and it was breaking my heart. After the next murder, there were finals, and you were so stressed, big guy." I move in closer and place my hands on his chest. "I should have told you, but?—"

Connor flinches away from my touch, and I swear to all the gods, I hear my heart break. "And after the next murder? Or the one after that? Why couldn't you tell me? I had to hear it from the headmaster?"

"Connor, I…" I try to think of something to say. I don't know how to make this better.

Connor’s eyes grow misty. "I have been so patient, not pushing you. But, now that I think about it, I don't even really know anything about you."

I hold my hands up. "No, that's not?—"

"Tell me one thing about your past," he interrupts, his eyes filling with tears.

I shake my head, dread swirling inside me. "I barely know anything, Con…" There is the obvious, but my chest tightens with the memory of Torin, and my soul desperately clings to the story. Connor already looks so broken. It would be so much worse if he knew I'd murdered someone. I can't tell him about the power and darkness inside me.

Connor closes his eyes, defeated.

My hands shake as I lift them to cup his cheeks. "Connor, please. I love you."

Connor pulls back again. "I can taste lies, but I can't taste yours."

I gasp and drop my hands, his words slicing through me painfully. "Connor."

A tear tracks down his cheek. "Tell me one thing. Give me something. Anything."

I move closer and slowly lift my hand to cup his cheek again. This time, he doesn't pull away. He just stares at me with that devastated look, and I scramble for an ounce of truth to give him. I need to give him something that is wholly honest and all his.

"Here's something." I feel the tears slide down my cheeks. "I love you, Connor. So fucking much. And I am so sorry."

He stares at me, searching my eyes. "But you don't trust me."

"I do. I do trust you." It's not about trust. It never has been. You are such a good man, and I am so broken.

Connor shakes his head. "You don't trust me enough to make my own decisions with this. You don't trust me enough to believe I can support and protect you."

"Con, please," I whimper.

"Six months. Did you even hesitate?"

"You know I did."

Connor winces, another tear falling. "I love you so much, but this is breaking my heart."

"Connor. Please. I'm so sorry."

Connor closes his eyes, and the tears leak down his face. "Fuck."

"Tell me how to fix it. Please."

"Tell me about your past. Everything," Connor whispers brokenly and opens his eyes.

I swallow, dread filling my stomach and bile burning my throat at what I am about to do. That voice screams at me from the depths of my soul, begging me to keep this ugly truth from the perfection that is Connor. What would happen if I told him about Torin? Would he go after him? I can't risk that. Torin is fairly powerful, but that's not what makes him so dangerous. It's the allies he keeps.

My entire body aches with repudiation at the thought of showing him who I truly am. He will leave. He will walk away in disgust. How could he not? And now I am forced to face my own ugly truth. I can scream to the heavens that this was to protect him, but honestly, I was protecting myself.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, I nod and slide my hand into his, pulling him to the couch. His body tenses when I touch him, but he follows me and sits down. I settle beside him, tucking my body into the corner but turning to face him. Fear clenches my throat like a fist, but it's no longer fear of being open with him. It's the terror of losing him.

I keep hold of his hand, and Connor doesn't pull away. He seems to know that I need his touch for strength. I swallow down the sick feeling of guilt and begin to talk, hoping that giving him a sliver of the full story will be enough,

"I was abandoned as a baby in the mortal realm of all places." My mouth is dry, and I am practically choking on fear. "A mortal woman found me somewhere in the woods, I believe. I only ever knew her as Grammy. When she found me, I looked like a mortal infant. My parents had seemingly cared just enough to glamour me so the mortals would accept me. The rune only lasted so long, though, and by the time I was three, the truth of my heritage was starting to show."

I reach up, touching the point of one ear.

"For as long as I can remember, Grammy used to braid my hair to hide my pointed ears. Even now, the mortal realm is not a kind place to… those like us. She used to make me wear contact lenses to hide the color of my eyes. They would burn when I put them in. I hated them more than anything. They were worse than even the beatings I got when my magic flared accidentally."

Memories assault me, and I drop my gaze, staring at our hands. My knuckles are white, and I ease my grip, twining my fingers with his. He is still here. It will be okay.

"There was nothing she could do once my powers came in fully, so she told me every day that they were something to be hidden, repressed, and ashamed of. One day, I came home from school and found her sitting in her old armchair. She was cold. So cold. So pale." A tear slides down my cheek. Not for her but for what she represented. The familiar loneliness swarms me. It is all the more shocking because it had been absent since Alice and Connor. "I was thirteen when she died."

I exhale a shaky breath at the memory of what happened next, what my desperation to belong to someone led me to do. I push that thought away before I continue,

"A few weeks after her burial, I found a chest in her bedroom. Inside, there were several diaries and letters. It was every scrap of information she knew about me. I looked into my past a little, but I was young, and it was just too hard. I knuckled down in school, and I… was alone."

Show me what you can do, Summer.

I close my eyes at the memory unfolding in front of me. The first time I felt Torin's magenta eyes on me, the first time he slowly undid my brain, so gently luring me into a false sense of security. The gentleness was a ploy, another manipulation.

"Until I got the acceptance letter for Avalon." I force myself to push forward with the story, unable to tell Connor what I did and the truth of what I am. He would leave me for sure. There is no way he could accept the darkness I harbor. I glance at Connor and find his gaze pinned on me. "Grammy always kept me at a distance. She was cold and cruel. She was afraid of me, but she was the only person I had."

Show me what you can do, Summer.

The words sit heavily between us, and the room is deafeningly silent for a while. I stare at our hands, sliding my fingers up and down his and tracing the lines and calluses on his palm. Finally, Connor shifts and pulls me into him, tucking my head against his shoulder.

A small sob breaks free from my throat. "I'm sorry, Connor. I… You deserve better."

"I just…" Connor strokes my arm with his thumb. "Summer, I need to know that you'll tell me things, even if they're uncomfortable or you're afraid."

I exhale and pull back to look at him, trying to find a way to push away the guilt that is clawing up my throat, trying to force the worst of the truths from me. So, I divulge more truths, other truths, truths that are not so horrific. "Months ago, someone ransacked our dorm. They stole some of my clothing."

"Alice knew?" Connor asks, his shoulders tensing again.

"Connor, I'm telling you everything now. It's all I can do. Alice only knew because when I found the third victim…" I take a steadying breath, trying to push away the image of the dead fae. "I was covered in blood, and Alice saw. I was also terrified because the dead girl was wearing one of the items of clothing that was taken."

Connor flinches.

I cover my face with my hands. "Fuck."

"They've been… toying with you." I drop my hands, looking at him, his reply surprising me. "You must have been so scared."

Fuck, he's so perfect. I swallow. "It's not been easy," I concede.

"I'm sorry," Connor says.

I frown and shake my head at the apology. There is only one person at fault here. And it's me. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"You were alone."

"Not completely. I wanted to protect you, Connor, but I did what I could to keep myself safe."

"I should be protecting you," Connor says, clenching his fists and looking down at them.

"I wanted to protect you ."

"I'm the warrior."

"No, Connor. To me, you are my boyfriend," I say, covering one of his massive fists with my much smaller hand.

"I'm supposed to be strong." Connor looks back at me.

"You are strong. Tell me how to fix this. You want me on my knees, begging for your forgiveness? I'll do it."

Connor shakes his head. "I don't want that."

I swallow down the lump of fear in my throat. "Are you going to leave me?"

Connor looks at me for the longest moment. "I don't know."

I flinch but try to hold back my tears. I pushed him too far. He has every right to leave me. Fuck, if someone had done to me what I did to him, I would leave. I lied to him and kept him at arm's length. Hell, I am continuing to do both. But the truths I'm withholding are not ones I need to share. These are mine, and I will not let them define my future.

Connor looks away again. "This really hurts," he whispers, and I have to swallow the whimper that threatens to pass my lips. I won't make this harder for him or play on his love. He deserves so much better than that, so much better than me.

"I'm so sorry." I close my eyes, my whole body feeling like it's collapsing in on itself like a dying star. "What do you need from me?" I ask.

Connor exhales heavily. "I don't know. I need to protect you, but I also need space."

I wipe a stray tear away. "Right, space," I say, sliding my hand off his.

"But I can't because you're in danger, and I love you."

I shake my head. "You should have your space. I'll make sure Alice is by my side every second."

Connor grabs my hand back, and I look up at him in surprise. "I need to be by your side every second."

I shake my head harder, quietly sobbing, feeling like I am unraveling. "If you don't have this space, Connor, you'll resent me forever. Take some time. Think things through, and I'll be here when you're ready."

"No. You are done making decisions for me," Connor growls.

I wince, looking away. I've never heard so much anger in his voice, and I deserve it. "Okay. I'm sorry."

Connor sighs and kneels on the floor in front of me. He grips my hands in his and looks up at me. "I need to protect the women I love, even when I'm mad at her."

I force the words out through the sobs I am desperately trying to keep in. "But you… you're not sure… you want to be… with me anymore. Which… I totally understa?—"

"Stop. I shouldn't have said that. I know I want to be with you. I want to marry you, Summer. I still love you. I just… I feel betrayed."

My chin wobbles, and I nod, pulling my hands away to cover my mouth, trying to physically hold back the sobs.

Connor cups my face. "I'm sorry. I know it's… I don't know. I'm not good at these eloquent speeches." A tear slides down Connor's cheek. "Rafe had to protect me. When I saw the blood, I–I immediately saw Gia's face and?—"

"Blood?" The word is muffled by my hands, and I drop them.

Connor nods, holding my gaze. "There's been another… That's where I found out about you being the target. The headmaster mentioned it to me at the… scene."

All the fear I felt before is nothing compared to the wave that washes over me now. My entire body goes cold, and I can literally hear the blood surging through my veins. Connor feels the tremors wracking my body and pulls me down to straddle his lap. He puts my face into his neck and holds me tight, instinctively rocking as terror grips me in its teeth and shakes.

"I can protect you now," he whispers.

I can't stop trembling. The memory of Alicia's blood against my skin is a visceral one, and the images of the bodies flash through my mind like some sick slideshow. Down, soft feathers brush against my cheek, and I open my eyes to see Connor has completely wrapped us in his wings. There are barely any white ones left, and I finally let the sobs come.

"You've been so scared for so long." Connor runs his fingers through my hair, comforting me. He hums a melody, and I let the song travel through me. Every cell it touches releases, and I feel like I can breathe again.

"I love you, Connor," I whisper as my body recovers from the massive adrenaline dump. The fear is still there, but I also feel a kernel of rage festering within. I'll need to tap into that anger if I'm going to get through this. Connor was right. This person is toying with me, but it stops now.

I pull back and look up at him. "I need to talk to the headmaster."

Connor frowns. "Why?"

"I need to know what he saw and if there was a message. If they were… wearing my clothes." Connor cups my cheek. "Will you come with me?"

Connor nods and presses his forehead to mine.