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57

Summer

C onnor and I hurry through getting dressed. We do a quick search of the dorm, but it looks like Alice must have stayed at her shifter’s place after her dirty little rendezvous. As we leave the building, our phones ping with a notification. Connor pulls his out and lets out a bark of surprised laughter when he reads the message.

“What?” I ask, unable to find my phone in my full bag.

“So you know how Alice mentioned chaining him to a tree in the woods when she was done with him?” Connor asks, and when I nod, he hands me his phone. The alert was a post on Nexus. It’s a photo of the shifter from yesterday, naked and chained to a large tree. There is a sign stuck to his stomach, fortuitously hiding his dick. The message scrawled across the paper says, Captain of the Little Bitch Club .

“Apparently, she wasn’t joking.”

I sigh. “This is not even a little surprising to me.”

Connor laughs, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me closer as we walk across the quad.

“I like getting up with you like this,” he says, kissing my temple.

“Maybe next time we’ll be ready in enough time to have breakfast together.”

Alice is waiting at the coffee cart and has already ordered for all of us. She hands me mine first, and I take a long sip.

“Oh, hey, did you get me a muff—” Alice cuts me off by holding up a brown bag with a blueberry muffin in it. She then hands Connor his cup, and he grins at her.

“So,” I begin as we walk toward the building, “you destroyed him, huh?”

Alice takes a loud sip of her coffee. “Hm? Who?” she asks, feigning ignorance.

I give her a look and then reach out to her, wiping a drop of blood from the corner of her mouth. “And you say I’m obvious.”

Alice smirks, flashing her fangs. “I’m not the one having sex in the very public stacks.”

I glance at Connor, looking outraged. “The stacks? What could she be talking about?”

Connor coughs, dropping his voice. “How does she know these things?”

“Because you may be the boyfriend, but I am the best friend. So I know everything.”

Connor tenses, and I laugh, pressing a reassuring kiss to his shoulder.

Alice dry heaves at my small show of affection. “You two are too much.”

When we arrive at the end of the corridor, I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss Connor deeply. “I’ll see you at lunch?”

Connor nods but deepens the kiss.

Alice yanks at my arm, pulling me away from him and to class.

I decide to skip lunch and go to the library to study. I invite Alice to join me, but as expected, she laughs in my face at the suggestion and trots off to the canteen to terrorize Connor and his brothers unchecked by me.

The library is mostly empty, and I savor the quiet. I sit at one of the tables at the back and dig through my bag. As usual, I want to study runes but I’m already weeks ahead of my class in both my runes courses, so I pull out my realms textbook and open my notebook to a blank page. I’m about to start taking notes when words start forming on the paper, the elegant script scrawling along the faint red lines.

Actually studying?

I frown down at my notebook. Who is doing this? Could this be my invisible watcher finding another way to communicate with me?

I take my pen and draw a line through the message. A surge of rage fills me at the defensiveness I feel, and I score out the message over and over. When the words are nearly lost to the angry black pen marks, I tear out the page and throw it in the trash can. In the time it takes me to discard the paper, another word appears on the blank page.

Prickly.

I stare at the word, unsure why it seems to stick out to me. Then I remember my unfortunate encounter with Max yesterday. I slam the notebook closed and grab the crumpled piece of paper from the trash can before storming out of the library, leaving all my belongings on the table.

I barge into the gym and storm straight up to Max. He is spotting one of the infinity slam players at the weight bench.

He raises an eyebrow at me. “Look who’s back.”

“Where is it?” I snarl, looking around.

Max blinks, looking at me like I belong in an asylum. “Uh… Where is what?” he asks, helping to rack the bar and stepping away from the student.

“The magic pen or notebook or whatever the fuck you’re using.”

Max snorts. “I’m sorry?” I cross my arms over my chest and glare at him. Max shakes his head and frowns at me, putting his hands on his hips. “I’m lost. Are you going to invite me onto the crazy train?” he says, obviously wildly confused about what I’m talking about.

“You didn’t…” I hold out the piece of paper. If Max has been in here training, it couldn’t have been him sending me messages. Even if he is the best liar in all the realms, I’m not sure he could have pulled off looking that confused as quickly as he did.

I growl in frustration and turn on my heel, stalking toward the door. Max catches up easily and grabs my arm. I turn to face him, but my gaze locks on the hand he has gripping my arm.

“You seem tense,” he says. “Want to fight? It’ll help with… whatever it is you’re going through. Plus, you’ll get to punch me.”

I roll my eyes and yank my arm free. I storm from the gym and head straight back to the library, muttering curses under my breath. People scatter before me, but I barely notice. My anger simmers, and I welcome it, thankful it is rage and not fear fueling me. Sinking into my chair, I open the notebook. The word is still there, taunting me.

Prickly.

I grab my pen and reply to the message, so tired of all this.

Who are you?

I write.

The words sit uselessly on the page, and I’m about to rip the paper from the pad when a reply appears on the line beneath my message.

A stranger.

It is simple and direct, yet it doesn’t answer my question in the least.

What do you want?

I try to keep my script legible even though my hands shake.

Nothing.

The elegant handwriting continues along the page.

For now.

My stomach knots at the addition, and I look around the library. I’m not sure what I think I’m going to find. I look down at the paper, the words humming threateningly against the page.

But later?

Yes, little fae. Later.

I swallow, my breaths coming out shallow and labored. 1015 calls me little fae. Could this be the same person? Or is this just a massive coincidence? Another person who sees me as weak. Is this fear I’m feeling? Yes, but it feels different.

Are you watching me?

The pen glides across the paper, and I look down at what I wrote. I quietly curse myself for asking the question. My hair is standing up on the back of my neck, and I can feel eyes on me from every direction.

Yes.

The answer comes after a single beat, a fraction longer than it took last time. Was there a note of hesitation? My head snaps up, and I look around, still finding nothing out of the ordinary. But there is still that feeling of nails raking down my spine.

You won’t find me, little fae. But don’t worry. I’m not a threat.

The words appear beneath his latest message, and they’re almost comical. Nothing about this situation feels non-threatening.

My heart thunders in my chest as I press the tip of the pen to the crisp white paper.

Are you a liar?

It is a useless question. What liar admits to lying?

Not to you.

And for some weird, sick, twisted reason, I believe the words I’m reading.

Tell me who you are.

A stranger.

That isn’t an answer.

It is the only one I can give you.

I feel a wave of rage, and I turn the page, the paper tearing a little. I open my textbook to a chapter on the realm of Gytera and begin taking copious notes, trying to distract myself. My pen stutters on the page as a new message forms on the next line, stopping me from continuing.

You’re getting very used to getting your way.

I growl and angrily score out the message so hard that the paper tears under my pen.

Brat.

The word shocks me into pausing, and I grip the pen so tight it creaks in my hand.

Constantly needing to get your own way.

I slam the notebook shut and lunge to my feet, shoving the textbook into my bag. I draw a rune on the cover and throw the notebook into the trash can on my way out of the library. It immediately bursts into flames, a contained inferno that reduces the notebook to ash and cinders. By the time I’ve calmed down enough to notice that the sun is setting, I’m almost home. Irritation ignites in me again. My rage with a faceless weirdo has kept me away from both studying and enjoying this beautiful evening.

Alice is lounging on the couch, cradling a bottle of red wine. She has her legs tucked up, leaving just enough room for me to collapse next to her on the couch. Alice holds the bottle out to me, not saying anything, not even moving her gaze from the television. Sighing, I take it and gulp down a few deep mouthfuls, grimacing at the bitter taste.

“You know, for vampire royalty, you have shit taste in wine.”

Alice finally drags her gaze away from the television to look at me. “It’s not my fault your palate is as refined as a haystack.”

I flip her off, but my lips twitch. I take another deep drink, settling into the burn of the alcohol as it travels down my throat and sits comfortably in my stomach.

“Connor came round,” Alice says, having turned her attention back to the television.

“Oh?” I pull my phone from my bag and start scrolling through my messages.

“I told him we need a girls night.”

I nod, tapping on the messages from Con.

Connor

Home safe, babe?

I smile at the message and the care woven into those three words.

Summer

Just got home.

The three impatient dots immediately appear. He was obviously worried about me and waiting for my reply. He sent that first message around thirty minutes ago. No doubt if I’d delayed replying any longer, he’d have enlisted his brothers and become the most chaotic of search parties.

Connor

I miss you.

Summer

Miss you too, big guy.

“Right, enough of bird brain!” Alice exclaims as she jumps up and walks to the kitchen. She grabs six shot glasses and pours tequila into all of them.

“Girls night! Just you, me, and a bottle of tequila.”

Alice lifts a shot glass, waving it a little, beckoning me over. I’m impressed that she doesn’t spill a drop, even though the glass is filled to the brim with the golden liquid.

I push off the couch and take the glass from her, slamming the shot. The burn from the tequila is more pleasant than that of the heinous wine, deeper and darker. I slam another shot before I notice Alice watching me, guilt etched on her face. I freeze, my eyes narrowing on her. It’s the kind of look that tells me I’ll either be trying to get her out of something or exacting revenge on someone.

“What?” I ask her, knowing that she’s avoiding telling me. It’s funny how much Alice and I know each other. It’s like we have a lifetime of knowledge about one another, even though we’ve known each other for mere months.

“I, uh…” She smiles sheepishly, but there is a gleam in her eyes. Whatever she’s done, she’s proud of herself. “I might have stolen some of those funky mushrooms from the forest greenhouse.”

Well, this is a bad fucking idea, but I am going through so much at the moment. Someone was murdered on campus, someone who looks enough like me to be suspicious. Along with that, I am being hunted by a psycho male, potentially a murderer, and who the fuck knows what’s going on with the magic notebook and the invisible man? My life feels more chaotic and dramatic than Alice’s show. Escaping all of this for a short time is so very tempting. I know it won’t change anything, but I am so tired of feeling scared and weak, and we’re in the safety of our own dorm. I purse my lips and hold my hand out.

“Fuck it.”

Alice smirks as she drops one into my hand. Fuck, this looks like the least appetizing thing I’ve ever seen. It’s murky brown, and there’s a weird, sickly sheen to its wrinkled surface.

Alice pops hers into her mouth and chews thoughtfully. “Hm, not as bad as it looks. It’s just very earthy.”

I take a deep breath and count to three before placing the mushroom on my tongue. Grimacing, I hold my breath and start to chew the monstrosity. I guess the taste isn’t too bad, but the texture is truly disgusting.

Alice holds up another full shot glass. “Wash it down with this.” I take the shot, the tequila burning away the taste of the weird little mushroom. Alice flops down on the couch, pouting a little. “I don’t feel anything. Must have been a bad batch.”

I grab the tequila bottle and two shot glasses before curling up on the couch next to her. I pour us another two shots and hand one to her. Alice and I clink our glasses and down the drink. Four shots later, I blink and look around the room.

“Al?” I slowly turn my head to look at her. She’s rocking slightly and staring down at her hands with wide eyes. The room spins, and I shake my head, trying to clear the sensation, but that just makes it spin faster. The colors start to play with each other right in front of my eyes, doing unspeakable things with each other and birthing new colors.

“Hmm?” Alice finally replies, shifting her bleary, unfocused eyes to me. I tilt my head as I look at them. Her pupils seem to be changing shape. First, they’re oval, then square, then heart-shaped, then they start to look like lightning bolts. I burst out laughing, fumbling for my phone. I need to close one of my eyes to keep the phone from moving too much to operate. It takes me a few tries, but I finally get it unlocked and manage to get onto the music app. I choose the first suggestion, which is some rock song, and the music blasts out of the speakers we installed throughout the dorm.

“Fuck, yes! I love this song!” Alice shouts and jumps to her feet. She loses her balance and collapses onto the floor, bursting out laughing.

I get up to help her but immediately forget what I am supposed to be doing, distracted as the song gets to the bridge, which I love. I climb onto the table and start dancing.

“Yes, Sum! Work it!” Alice squeals. Still on the floor, she lifts her hands and starts making motions like she would if she were showering a dancer with paper credits.

I drop low on the table, wobbling slightly thanks to the swaying and spinning of the room.

“Damn! Should have been a stripper. Do it again for the fans.” Alice pulls out her phone, and I drop low again. It all seems hilarious, and I laugh hard as I dance. Alice cackles as she finally manages to get off the floor. I offer her my hand and successfully pull her onto the table on the second try. We sway together, and the next time I drop, I grab the tequila and take a deep drink. I pass the bottle to Alice, and she guzzles it like water.

“Momma didn’t raise no bitch.” She stills, swaying on the spot. “Well, actually, she didn’t raise me at all.”

I watch her, sobering up only a fraction at the expression of pain on her face. It takes me a couple of attempts, but I finally grip her arm and squeeze. She looks at me, trying to focus on me. “I never had one.”

Alice shrugs, the pain melting from her expression. “It’s not like I remember her. And my dad went from secretly hoping I died to plotting my murder.”

“I never had one of those either,” I say, nudging her and grabbing my phone. “We don’t need any of them, Al. Just each other.”

“Damn right, wifey.”

I nod and start taking selfies of us on my phone, posting some of them immediately.

After hours of laughing, dancing, and drinking, Alice passes out on the couch. I listen to her snore and stare toward the window, my mind comfortably fuzzy. The silver moonlight streaming into the room beckons to me, promising the peace of the night. I push off the couch, stumbling a little as I pull on my boots and leave the dorm. Just because I wasn’t able to enjoy my walk earlier because of some stalker asshole doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy it now.

The alcohol warms my blood, but my skin still reacts to the nip of the cool night air. The campus is so peaceful at this time of night. Everything is peaceful, calm, and safe. Is it safe? There is still a killer out there, and they are more than likely after me. But thanks to the liquid courage I’ve been drowning myself in all evening, I can’t bring myself to care right now.

The night is so still that it surprises me when a soft breeze brushes against my hand. I stumble and look down at my hand, confused. The whisper of air caresses up my arm, and the higher it trails, the more it feels like an actual touch. I gasp as it becomes firmer and stumble again. The breeze catches me, stopping me from falling. I look up and can finally see him again, shadows curling at his edges. He takes my hand and places it on his chest. I feel the steady heartbeat, the one I’m growing familiar with. He lifts my other hand, brushing my fingers against something prickly and along what feels like a very chiseled jaw.

“So you are a man,” I whisper, mostly to myself.

His chest shakes a little with a laugh, and I can feel him nod.

“Who are you?” I whisper again.

He turns his head. I feel the stubble brush over my fingers and then the gentle press of something soft and pillowy against my palm. A kiss?

“Are you scared?” The sound makes me gasp, and I swallow hard. His voice is soft, almost inaudible, yet it brushes past my ear like a caress. It doesn’t make any sense because I can still feel his lips pressed against my palm.

“Yes,” I reply honestly. The fear is creeping back in as the alcohol burns off.

“Why?” He turns his head again, and though I can’t see his facial features, I can feel his gaze on me. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

I tilt my head, watching him, and it all comes together. “Have you been communicating with me?” I pause. “In other ways?”

I feel his nod.

My stomach drops. “My notebook?”

Another nod.

My heart starts to race. “My DMs?”

There is a thoughtful pause and then another nod.

I stumble again, proving I am still nowhere near sober because I am standing still. He catches me again, this time his hand gripping my waist. My breaths are shallow, yet my chest is heaving. Fear holds me hostage in this space, and I stare up at the projection in front of me.

Is this it? Is this the moment I die?

I feel his other hand moving, and I wait for the pain to come. Run, Summer, do fucking anything. But I’m frozen in place. Defenseless. A damsel. Fuck. I close my eyes, ready to accept my fate, but no pain comes. Instead, he gently brushes a lock of hair behind my ear and then cups my cheek. My eyes snap open, and I lurch away from him.

“This is… I… I have a boyfriend.” I shake my head and turn, walking away from him. This is all too confusing, and I don’t know what to think or believe. My instincts have been useless where this stranger is concerned.

“Go home, little fae.” His voice is louder this time and right at my ear. It is commanding, arrogant, and laced with irritation.

His command makes me bristle, but I keep walking in the other direction. A gentle breeze pushes at me, redirecting me back toward my dorm. My jaw clenches, and I push back, walking the way I want to, trying to hold on to a scrap of my dignity and decision-making. I know I’m headed in a random direction, but if he’s not going to kill me, he’s also not going to tell me what to fucking do.

“Where are you going?” His voice is angrier now.

“Away from you,” I snarl back.

“Your dorm is away from me.”

I whirl on him. The outline of his form is still in the same place, watching me. “You are not the boss of me, Stranger .”

In the blink of an eye, his form is right in front of me, and then I am hoisted over his shoulder.

“Put. Me. Down,” I snarl, struggling against his hold.

“Brat,” he growls, his voice even clearer now. He carries me easily, despite my wiggling and complaining, and it is just moments before we’re back at Kelpie Hall. He opens the dorm without a key or a pass and puts me down before slamming the door, leaving him on the other side of it. I try the handle, but I know it’s useless. A second later, a bright glow shines from beneath the door, and I know he’s sealed it shut with a rune. I feel the power of it pulse softly. Bastard.

I climb the stairs louder than necessary, still furious. Alice is still sound asleep on the couch, a blanket thrown over her. I go to my room and collapse into my bed. I’m about to drift off when my phone lights up with a message. Against my better judgment, I check it.

I growl. If blocking him doesn’t work, surely there’s something I can do? Perhaps I should ask one of the tech guys tomorrow.

I block him again. I know it is useless, but there’s something enjoyable about knowing it’ll piss him off. My phone alerts again, and I smile when I see Connor’s name pop up instead of that weirdo stalker.

Connor

I miss you. Also, your ass is on Nexus.

I frown at the message, confused by it, but pass out before I can investigate further.