Page 19

NINETEEN

SABLE

M y eyes flutter open slowly, adjusting to the faint sliver of light creeping through Dayton’s blackout curtains. Blinking a few times, I try to clear the haze from my vision, a heaviness lingering over my limbs. The silk sheets clinging to my skin are damp, sticky, the residual heat from the two men on either side of me wrapping me in an uncomfortable cocoon.

Dayton has his leg wrapped around mine like a koala clinging to a tree. His chest rises and falls with the steady rhythm of deep sleep, soft puffs of breath escaping his slightly parted lips. His blonde hair is a tousled mess, and his flushed cheeks look almost childlike in this state of peace.

On my other side, Kai’s hand is possessively wrapped around my waist, his grip firm even in sleep. He’s lying on his stomach, his face turned away, but I can still see the intricate rose tattoo on the top of his hand, the thick vines creeping up his forearm like something alive, breathing. I glance down at myself, realizing I’m still in Dayton’s lacrosse shirt, my underwear the only other thing covering me, my hair tied up in a soft bun to keep it out of my face while I slept.

Carefully, I begin to wiggle my way out of their grasp. I nudge Dayton gently until he grumbles and rolls over, muttering something incoherent in his sleep. Kai, sensing my absence even in his unconscious state, instinctively places his hand where my body had been, his fingers brushing the empty sheets. His grip loosens, but his face remains impassive, as if my departure hasn’t disturbed him in the slightest.

Shaking my head, I slip off the bed and make my way to the bathroom, softly closing the door behind me. The cool, smooth surface of the white door presses against my forehead as I lean into it, a flood of emotions crashing over me.

For years, I had never truly felt attracted to anyone. The idea of using my body for pleasure always seemed distant, something other people experienced—never me. Sex was clinical, cold, always leaving me hollow. Until now. Until them.

Last night... it was different. The way they touched me, the way my body reacted—it felt like a spell had been cast, as though they’d found something inside of me that I didn’t even know existed. They awakened something deep within me, something I couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore.

I step into the shower, turning the water to cold in an attempt to snap myself out of the whirlpool of thoughts. The icy stream shocks my system, but it does little to quiet the questions racing through my mind.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as the memories of the night before flooded my mind.

Do I want this? I ask myself, scrubbing my skin as if I could wash away the confusion along with the remnants of sleep.

The butterflies in my stomach dance, offering me the answer before I can even form the question properly.

What does this mean for Silas and me, though? Does this mean I have to forgive him?

My relationship with Silas is a fractured, complicated thing—a mess of anger, desire, and betrayal tangled together. He’s ruined the only two times I’ve ever had sex, leaving me with scars I’m not sure will ever heal.

Kai and Dayton can make me come on their tongues and fingers a million times, but it doesn’t erase the hurt that Silas has inflicted on my body, on my soul.

I brush my teeth and put on a thin layer of makeup, then I get dressed in some clothes I have in the closet attached to the bathroom. Opting for some black denim jeans and an oversized t-shirt from a band I couldn’t name a single song from.

When I step out of the bathroom, Kai and Dayton are awake, sitting up in bed, each engrossed in their phones. They glance at me, offering lazy smiles, but I need space. I grab a black butterfly clip from the dresser, throw my hair into a loose twist, and quietly slip out of the room.

It’s early, maybe just past seven. The house is silent, the other two boys likely still asleep after getting in late last night from the fight. I make my way downstairs, then I hear the faint sounds of someone in the kitchen—a soft grunt, followed by the distinct thud of a knife against a cutting board.

“Goddammit,” a voice mutters, followed by the sound of something rolling onto the floor.

I round the corner and step into the kitchen to see Levi standing by the counter, attempting to chop strawberries, one of which has escaped and landed near my feet.

Levi is a dark vision of allure. The soft morning light filters through the light, catching on the silver rings that adorn a few of his fingers.

His tousled black hair curls slightly at the ends, framing a face that seems that we have been sculpted by an artist. From what Dayton has told me, his mom is Columbian. Which makes sense, given his tanned complexion.

“Need some help?”

Levi looks up, surprise flickering in his dark almond-colored eyes before he straightens, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “Didn’t think anyone else was up,” he says, shrugging slightly.

“I couldn’t sleep,” I reply, picking up the rogue strawberry and handing it back to him. “What are you making?”

“Just a smoothie,” he mutters, his attention already back on the task at hand. “Not well, apparently.”

“You’re doing better than I can.”

Levi steps back, watching me briefly before turning away, his attention shifting back to the blender. “Hmm,” he grunts, clearly not in the mood for conversation.

His attention turns back to the fruit, and he quickly finishes making his smoothie, pouring it into a cup and brushes past me, his shoulder barely grazing mine, and heads toward the living room.

I sigh, a bit disappointed by his brusque manner before making myself a cup of coffee, the rich aroma filling the kitchen. After pouring the coffee into a mug, I head back through the house upstairs.

My body freezes at the foot of the stairs when I notice something etched in the wood on one of the steps about halfway up. It’s an intricate symbol no bigger than a few inches.

A dagger, covered in blood, pierces through the pages of a book. The lines are clean, sharp, with a glossy varnish sealing it into the very structure of the house, as though it was built this way. Almost like the symbol itself is part of the Manor’s bones.

My mind races. Have the boys ever noticed this?

I lean in, running my fingers across the surface. The grooves are smooth under my fingertips, worn down slightly, as if it’s been here for years—centuries, even. The thought makes my stomach churn. Something about it feels... wrong. I pick myself off the stairs, the unease settling in my chest, and head back to Dayton’s room.

“Uhh, Day?”

“Yes, babygirl?”

“Have you ever noticed that weird symbol on your stairs?”

Kai looks up, his dark eyes narrowing slightly. “The book and dagger?”

“Yes,” I reply, surprised that they know exactly what I’m talking about. “You’ve seen it?”

“Yeah, it’s the symbol for the Syndicate.”

Dayton sits up, scratching the back of his head. “They say that the founder of the Syndicate was also a member of DSN.”

“Isn’t the Syndicate just a scary story to be told at bedtime?” I ask.

“I mean…nowadays it’s just used as a police of some kind for people like us.” Kai says.

“When did the Syndicate start?”

Kai shrugs, “Not sure.”

Dayton smirks, breaking the tension. “Thought you were the brainiac here, Kaiser roll.”

“Fuck you,” Kai retorts with a playful smirk, his demeanor lightening again. “Maybe you could help for once instead of relying on me to do everything. I’m not your personal Google.”

“Let’s be real. You’d chop my hands off if I even tried to get on your computer.”

“You wouldn’t be able to log into my VPN. It’d be pointless for you to try,” Kai deadpans.

“Fair enough. Anyway,” Dayton shifts his attention back to me, the humor fading slightly from his face, “didn’t you need to head back to your dorm today? Grab the rest of your stuff?”

I nod, biting my lip. As much as I’ve enjoyed hiding away in Dayton’s oversized shirts and Kai’s occasional hoodie, I know I need more than the few outfits I’ve been rotating through. But the thought of returning to my dorm—the place where everything fell apart, where Asher died, where Silas and I had that moment—makes my stomach twist.

“I’ll go with you,” Dayton offers, sensing my hesitation. “You shouldn’t be there alone.”

Kai nods in agreement, though his expression darkens slightly at the thought. “Yeah. You shouldn’t be walking around alone on campus with... everything going on. We’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks,” I mutter, my voice quieter than I intended. The truth is, I don’t want to be alone.

But the image of that symbol is still burned into my mind. The book, the dagger, the blood. Something tells me that whatever it is, it’s not just an old relic of the past. And I have a sinking feeling that it’s connected to everything happening now—the deaths, the secrets, the lies.

And maybe... maybe even to me.