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TWENTY-TWO

LUCIUS

All I could think about was my hands around her. The way she looked at me, seeing nothing but me, like I was the only thing in her world. The fear in her eyes. The way those bastards had made her feel. She was so afraid.

And that feeling belonged to me. Only me.

They would pay. They had touched the only sacred thing in my life, and I would stop at nothing until I hunted them down. One by one.

I leaned back in my chair, exhaling sharply. Then, sudden, forceful knocks shattered the silence. The sound pushed me upright. My pulse kicked up as I strode to the door, hoping it was her.

I wrenched it open. But it wasn’t her.

Ava Blackthorn stood before me, her face pale, her blonde hair tumbling from a messy braid. Her uniform was soaked in blood.

Her lips parted, trembling. “Pro—?”

Her voice broke.

My stomach tightened. My eyes locked onto her bloodied hands. “Is that blood?” My own voice felt distant. “What happened?”

She swallowed hard, barely able to whisper. “Freya…”

The name alone sent a cold fist to my gut. I grabbed Ava’s shoulders, shaking her gently. “What happened?”

No response. Just wide, empty eyes. She was in shock, unreachable. I cursed under my breath and pulled her inside. The door remained open, but I didn’t care.

“Sit,” I ordered. “Stay here.”

Ava moved sluggishly toward the chair, her body moving like it wasn’t hers. I didn’t wait to see if she sat down. I was already gone, sprinting to Freya’s room.

The world blurred, my heartbeat thundering in my ears. Blood. That was all I could see. That was all my mind registered. And a whisper of a thought clawed at me, a thought so dark it made my insides burn.

She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t do something reckless...

But as I reached her room, the breath was stolen from my lungs.

She was on the floor.

Blood seeped from a deep gash in her wrists, staining the wooden boards beneath her. In her right hand, she clutched a jagged shard of a mirror, a piece that cut her from life. Her upper body slumped against the bed, her head tilted limply to one side.

“No,” I breathed, dropping to my knees beside her.

I cupped her face, tapping her cheeks, desperate to pull her back. Her eyes fluttered, barely clinging to consciousness.

“Stay with me, Freya,” I muttered, my voice rough, raw.

Grabbing a torn shirt from the floor, I wrapped it tightly around her wrist, applying pressure. Her skin was still warm beneath my touch.

She will be okay. She has to be.

I slipped my hands under her and lifted her in my arms, holding her against me as I carried her out of the room and back to my office. Back to where Ava still sat, frozen in her horror.

The door was still open, but I kicked it shut, the slam echoing through the office walls.

Ava didn’t flinch.

“Ava,” I called her name, and she slowly turned her head toward me. “Can you follow me?” I adjusted Freya against me, freeing one hand to pull the book that triggered the hidden bookshelf door.

I rushed upstairs, Ava trailing behind. As we entered the living room, I gently placed Freya on the black leather sofa, lifting her legs to keep her comfortable. Kneeling beside her, my fingers brushed through her hair, my eyes locked on her pale face.

I can’t lose you. I can’t.

“Ava, can you bring me the first aid kit from the bathroom?” I asked, pressing down on Freya’s wound to slow the bleeding. “It’s next to the kitchen.”

She gave a shaky nod and hurried off, glancing around before spotting the bathroom door. Within moments, she returned, placing the kit beside me. Blood continued to trickle down Freya’s arm, and the sight of what she had done to herself made my stomach tighten.

Why would she do that?

I grabbed the disinfectant spray and applied it to the wound; she barely flinched. Wrapping a bandage carefully around her wrist, I secured it tightly before tapping her cheek lightly. Luckily, the cuts were not too deep, so she didn’t need stitches. As she stirred, her eyelids fluttering, I stood and made my way to the kitchen. I filled a glass with water and added salt. This would bring her back to full consciousness.

Ava approached hesitantly, her hands trembling. Before she could speak, she pulled a folded letter from her pocket and held it out to me. “It’s…” she exhaled shakily, “It was my fault.”

I took the letter, looking at her expression before unfolding it. The words inside were familiar, yet still sent chills down my spine:

“When did you get this?” I asked, scanning her face.

“Last night,” she mumbled. “At first, I thought it was a joke, but then Oscar found a bag with…” she hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper, “you know… and I had to do it.”

I exhaled sharply. “Ava, you should have come to me first!” I said, folding the note and stuffing it into my pocket.

Her eyes filled with tears. “I know, but… what if my uncle finds out about Oscar and kicks us both out? My dad would send me to a boarding school in Switzerland, and I don’t want to go there… and—“

“Stop,” I murmured, placing my hands on her shoulders. “I won’t say a thing. But you have to tell me more about A and O.”

She cast a worried glance at Freya before whispering, “Oscar said there are other students who’ve received similar notes. And if they didn’t play along, they ended up dead. But…” She inhaled shakily. “I swear, I didn’t put that tic-tac-toe on the wall. I swear.”

I clenched my jaw, my mind racing. “Did Oscar get a note, too?” I asked, watching her reaction closely.

She shook her head. “No, just me.” She wiped away a stray tear with the back of her hand.

I exhaled, my mind already forming a plan. “I need to call Professor Luna to consult on the situation since she is head of his chosen house.” I tried to control my voice. “Stay here with Freya. Make sure she drinks the salted water.”

She nodded, crossing her arms as she stood there, watching me walk back down to the office. The bookshelf door shifted as I entered, closing behind me.

I sat down, pulling the phone from the drawer, but the moment I opened it, my breath caught in my throat.

The disk from A and O was gone.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

I started to panic, shot up from my chair, rifling through the scattered documents on my desk, then crouched down, searching beneath the table as if it would magically appear. My hands gripped my hair, my chest rising and falling too fast.

This can’t be happening.

The door burst open, slamming against the wall. Luna stormed in, her face thunderous.

“What the fuck, Lucius?” she snapped. “Are you fucking with a student?”

She held the disk, slapping it into her palm. “You’re fucking lucky I was in Blackthorn’s office when Stella Blackthorn stormed in, complaining about being harassed.”

I blinked at her, my mind scrambling to process her words. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Her eyes burned with fury. “Are you screwing Freya Sinclaire?” She hurled the disk at me, the plastic clattering against the glass terrarium behind me. Venom tilted his tail towards her.

I exhaled sharply and raised my left brow. “Jealous?”

Her jaw moved along with her lower lip. She stalked closer, leaning against the desk. “Girls are being attacked by A and O, and it’s only a matter of time before one of them ends up like Adeline.”

I held her gaze. She had a point. A damn good one.

“Did she see the whole video?” I asked, my voice tight.

Luna shook her head. “Apparently not. She stopped halfway.” She slapped a hand against the table, frustration crackling through her.

I let out a slow breath, running a hand through my hair.

“Luckily, Freya grabbed the laptop before she could see the message A and O sent you, including your damn sex tape,” Luna continued, ticking her tongue in disgust. “And she…”

But her words faded, drowned out by the deafening drum of my heartbeat.

My Little Star knew.

She knew.

My whole world tilted, spinning out of control. All I could see was her blood, her lifeless eyes, and her fragile arms wrapped around me. She hurt herself because of me.

I sank into the chair, my body heavy, my skin paling.

“Lucius.” Luna snapped her fingers in front of my face, bringing me back into the moment.

I looked at her, meeting her scrutinizing stare. “Luna,” I interrupted, catching her wrist before she could pull away. “I never asked you the questions I should have when Adeline died.” My jaw clenched, the pressure grinding my teeth together. I saw it, the flicker of fear in her eyes. “Now, you should stop asking questions about Freya and me.”

She stepped back, her expression unreadable. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Lucius Lockwood.”

I narrowed my eyes, my tongue running over my teeth as I held my jaw tight. “Maybe,” I growled, “but I swear, if anything happens to her, or if someone finds out, you’re going down too.”

“Fuck you, Lucius,” she spat, storming toward the door.

“Close the door on your way out,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.

The moment she left, I stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. Striding toward the bookshelf, I pulled the book to open the bookshelf door, then climbed back up.

Freya was sitting on the sofa, cradling the glass in her hands. She looked up at me, just for a second, before shifting her gaze back to the water.

“Ava, I need to talk to Miss Sinclaire,” I said, my eyes never leaving her.

“No,” Freya murmured, her voice breaking. “I don’t want to talk.”

Please. Stay.

“I want to go back to my room,” she added, still not looking at me. “I... I don’t want to stay here.”

Please. Stay with me.

“I’ll take her, Professor,” Ava said, setting her glass on the coffee table and helping Freya to her feet.

They walked toward me, Freya’s steps slow, her eyes fixed on the floor. She didn’t even look up as they passed.

“If you want to talk, my door is always open,” I said, reaching for her arm, desperate for something, anything, but she pulled away, continuing down the stairs.

She didn’t say a word. Just kept walking. Then, halfway down, she stopped. She turned, her eyes locking onto mine for a brief, piercing second.

“Professor,” she called, and I was already moving toward her. But she lifted a hand, stopping me cold. “Did you love her?”

I frowned. “Who?”

“Adeline.” Her voice was barely a whisper, her eyes welling with tears.

I said nothing.

How could I tell her? How could I tell her that nothing before had ever been real? That I had lived in a lie, and the only truth I had ever known was the feeling of her skin against mine? How dare she even ask me that?

She wiped a tear from her cheek, turned away, and left.

I pulled out my phone, typing out a single word. The only word I couldn’t bring myself to say out loud.

STAY!

No response.

My whole life, people had left me. And I had left them too. But never had I met someone I wanted to stay with. Never had I met someone who made staying feel like an option.

I showed her my darkness, and she chose the pain instead.

From the moment I saw her, I knew she would ruin me. But I never expected to burn this fast.

And I wasn’t afraid.

I once burned a house down because I was afraid to stay in it. And I would burn this place to the ground to prove to her that not all devils live in hell.

If she wanted a monster, I would be hers.

But she would be mine.

She had no choice .

She would choose me.

Whether she wanted to or not .