Page 17

CHAPTER 17

Raven

I stare at my phone. Again.

Nothing.

No calls, no texts, not even a passive-aggressive Instagram story that I could pretend was meant for me. Just… silence .

It’s been a week. A whole fucking week since Alex stormed out of my room, leaving me standing there, trying to figure out if I had just lost my boyfriend who I also thought of as a best friend.

And maybe I did.

I exhale sharply, tossing my phone onto my bed and flopping down beside it. I don’t even know why I keep checking. It’s not like I’m gonna manifest a text from him.

Frustrated and with no one around I can go to for any kind of advice or help, I've taken to confiding in Erica and Lena, who I didn't even know before the hunt but who care enough to listen to me patiently.

Maybe this is what I deserve.

I fucked up.

But the longer he ignores me, the more this guilt starts twisting into something else—something darker, something angrier .

Like, what the hell? He asked me to do the ritual. I did it. Then he lost his mind over it and shut me out completely.

And yeah, okay, I shouldn’t have— God . My whole body heats just thinking about Malakai, about that night, about the way he?—

I squeeze my eyes shut. Nope. Not going there. Not fucking going there.

The point is, I did this for Alex . And now, he’s acting like I’m some kind of traitor, like I fucking betrayed him. Then I think about it again, and realize how much I really am to blame for this. It's not like Malakai forced me into anything. I did it willingly, and I deserve Alex's anger.

I'm not the best at grappling with emotions, but this time, things feel harder than ever before. With all the guilt, worries, and self-loathing kicking in, I'm stuck somewhere in between crying for my situation and yelling at myself. Maybe I should do both.

I grab my phone again and type out a text.

Me: Alex, can you please just talk to me? I’m sorry. Can we just fix this?

I hit send before I can second-guess it.

Then I stare at the screen, waiting.

And waiting.

And waiting.

The message stays delivered, untouched.

No response.

I let out a bitter laugh, pressing the heels of my palms into my eyes. Fine. If he wants space, I’ll give him space.

Before I can wallow any deeper, my phone vibrates.

Erica: Me and Lena are getting coffee. You in?

I hesitate, fingers hovering over the screen. I could just say no, stay in my dorm, rot in my feelings for a little longer.

But I’m fucking tired of feeling like this.

Me: Yeah. I’ll meet you there.

Erica is already at a table, stirring sugar into her drink, while Lena leans back in her chair, scrolling through her phone.

Lena spots me first. “Well, well, look who finally decided to stop moping.”

I roll my eyes, dropping into the chair across from them. “I wasn’t moping.”

Erica smirks. “Sweetheart, you’ve been ghosted by the golden boy himself. If that’s not reason to mope, I don’t know what is.”

I groan, rubbing my temples. “Can we not talk about Alex?”

Lena raises a brow. “Yeah? What should we talk about then? Malakai?”

I choke on air. “ No. ”

Erica snickers, sipping her coffee. “I mean, he did claim you in the ritual.”

“Oh my God ,” I mutter, dropping my face into my hands. “I hate both of you.”

Lena grins. “Hate, love, same thing.”

Erica shrugs. “Hey, you were the one who went full dark romance heroine and got tangled up with the team’s resident villain.”

I groan again, dragging my hands down my face. “He’s not my anything. And I don’t want to talk about him.”

Lena waves her hand. “Fine, fine. We won’t talk about the fact that you totally slept with the enemy.”

“I will throw my coffee at you,” I warn.

She smirks. “Worth it.”

Erica sighs dramatically. “Okay, okay. No more Malakai talk. But seriously, you okay?”

I hesitate. Because no, I’m not okay. I feel like my whole fucking life is unraveling, like everything I thought was stable is slipping away. But I don’t say that.

Instead, I force a small smile. “I’ll be fine.”

They don’t look convinced, but they let it drop.

For a little while, I let myself get lost in their conversation, their banter. It’s nice, feeling normal . Laughing. Pretending that everything isn’t completely fucked.

Then my phone buzzes.

I glance down.

Alex.

My stomach flips.

Alex: Can we talk?

For a second, I just stare at the screen.

Then, before I can overthink it, I type back a response.

Me: Come to my room in an hour.

I press send , heart hammering.

Lena notices my shift in expression immediately. “Alex?”

I nod, throat dry.

Erica watches me carefully. “You sure you wanna do this?”

I lick my lips, gripping my cup a little tighter. “He wants to talk. That’s a good thing, right?”

Neither of them answers.

And for the first time, I feel the tiniest flicker of doubt.

But I push it down.

Because this is Alex . My best friend.

Everything’s going to be fine.

Right?

The second I get back to my dorm, I’m pacing.

My stomach is doing that anxious, twisty thing where I know I should prepare for the worst, but my dumbass heart keeps hoping this is it—this is where Alex forgives me, where we fix things, where everything goes back to normal.

Because I need normal right now.

I check my reflection in the mirror, quickly running my fingers through my hair, smoothing my shirt. I don’t know why I care about how I look, but maybe if I look put together, I’ll feel put together.

Deep breaths.

It’s Alex . He’s my best friend. This is fixable .

A knock at the door.

I freeze for half a second before forcing myself to move. I yank it open, my pulse kicking up?—

Only to feel it crash when I see his face.

Alex looks… wrong .

Not like he’s pissed. Just… cold. His bruises are proof of something messed up he's been in, but I'm afraid to ask.

His arms are crossed, his jaw tight, and his eyes are distant in a way I’ve never seen before. My stomach sinks.

But I push through the dread, forcing a hopeful smile. “Hey. What's happened?”

Nothing. He shakes his head slightly, but it's as if he's answering the walls, not me.

He steps inside, but it feels different, like he’s here out of obligation , not because he actually wants to be here.

I close the door behind him, nerves crackling under my skin. “I’m really glad you came.”

Still nothing.

Okay. Fine. Maybe he just needs me to go first.

I swallow hard. “Alex, I—I miss you. I hate how things ended between us. I never meant to hurt you.”

His gaze flickers to mine, and for a second, I think I see something soften. But then?—

“You slept with him.”

The words hit like a gut punch.

I flinch. “Alex?—”

“You let him fucking win ,” he says, voice low but edged with something lethal.

I stare at him, throat tightening. “This isn’t about winning . It was never about that.”

“Wasn’t it?” He lets out a sharp laugh, running a hand through his hair. “Because that’s all this was to him, Raven. A fucking game. And you let him play you.”

My stomach knots. “I didn’t?—”

“You did,” he cuts me off. “And now? We’re done .”

My breath stutters.

“What?”

His expression doesn’t change. “We’re done.”

I shake my head, my voice barely above a whisper. “No, we’re not. You don’t mean that.”

He exhales sharply, looking tired, but there’s no hesitation. No softness. Just cold, brutal finality.

“I do.”

The floor feels like it’s tilting under me.

“Alex, please?—”

“There’s nothing to fix,” he says, voice clipped. “You made your choice.”

I step closer, desperate. “I never meant to choose him over you.”

His eyes darken. “But you did .”

I feel the weight of it, the truth sinking in.

I lost him.

My best friend. The person I’ve trusted more than anyone.

And then—just when I think I can’t feel worse —he drops the fucking bomb.

“My dad’s been paying for your mom’s medical bills.”

My heart stops .

“What?”

Alex’s gaze stays cold, detached, like he’s just handing me some business deal instead of ripping my entire world apart .

“You think the church just took pity on you?” He scoffs. “No. That was me . That was my family .”

The air feels like it’s crushing me.

I knew the church helped with my mom’s care, but I never— never —realized it was him .

And then he says it.

“And I can take it away.”

My throat locks up, and I can barely breathe.

“Alex.” My voice is barely there.

His gaze sharpens. “You want to be with Malakai? Fine. But don’t expect my family to keep cleaning up after yours.”

I can’t fucking process this.

I feel like I’m standing in quicksand, sinking deeper, no way to claw my way out.

He wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t.

But the way he looks at me—so emotionless , so completely removed ?—

He would.

“Alex, please .” My voice cracks. “Don’t do this.”

He just exhales, shakes his head.

“I already did.”

Then he turns and walks out.

And I stand there, shaking, breaking, not knowing what the fuck to do.

The door clicks shut.

Silence.

I stand there, frozen, my whole body numb.

I don’t even realize I’m shaking until I sit on the edge of my bed, gripping my knees, trying to breathe.

I lost him.

Not just him.

Everything.

The only security I had. The one thing keeping me from spiraling out completely.

And now, I’m fucking trapped .

I stare at my phone, my vision blurring, my whole body locking up with panic.

Who do I even call ?

Alex’s words echo in my head: "You made your choice... We’re done... can take it away. .. "

A tear slips down my cheek, and I hate it . I wipe it away angrily, my chest aching, my mind spiraling. I have no idea what to do.

No fucking clue who to turn to.

But the worst part? The absolute, soul-crushing worst part? There’s only one person I can think of.

And I hate that it’s him.

Malakai.

I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, my body completely numb.

The room feels too quiet. Too fucking empty .

I can still hear Alex’s voice in my head, sharp and final. We’re done. I can take it away. You made your choice.

The words loop over and over, twisting into something heavier, something suffocating.

He’s really gone.

And now, so is my safety net.

The thought makes my stomach churn. Not because I regret what happened with Malakai—not in the way I should—but because I realize now that it was never about Malakai .

This was always about control.

Alex never saw me as his equal. He saw me as something his , something he could mold and shape into whatever suited him best. The good girl. The loyal friend. The one who never fucking questioned anything.

And the second I broke out of that role? The second I did something for myself—even if it was reckless, even if it was with Malakai fucking Vega —he cut me loose.

And now, I’m finally seeing it.

Alex was always going to find a way to control me.

I should’ve known, even back then.

Even before everything went to hell, before Malakai, before the Pantheon, before this mess, there were signs. Little warnings buried in the way Alex was .

But I ignored them.

Because I wanted to believe he was my friend. My safe place. My constant.

I should’ve known.

The first time Alex took me out on a real date, I remember feeling nervous as hell.

We’d been close for years, and I wasn’t even sure why we were suddenly blurring the lines between friendship and something more. Maybe it was because I thought we were meant to be. Maybe it was because our parents always assumed we would be.

Or maybe… maybe it was because Alex always got what he wanted.

And back then? He wanted me.

It was a fancy restaurant—too fancy for me.

The kind with white tablecloths and waiters in pressed suits, where even the air smelled expensive. I’d never been somewhere like that before. Alex had. A lot.

He pulled out my chair, sliding into his own with a confident ease, flashing that easy, practiced smile at the waiter like he’d done this a million times.

Which he probably had.

"You like it?" he asked, watching me closely as I tried to figure out which fork I was supposed to use.

I nodded, feeling out of place but not wanting to admit it. "Yeah, it’s really nice."

He smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Told you I’d take you somewhere good. My dad brings all his important guests here. We never have to wait for a table."

There it was.

My dad.

Alex loved reminding people who his father was. The man who ran the biggest megachurch in the state. The one who knew politicians, celebrities, men who owned half the city.

And, by extension, Alex thought that made him untouchable too.

The waiter came back to take our order, and I tried to pick something that wasn’t too expensive, but Alex ordered for me before I could even open my mouth.

"She’ll have the filet mignon," he said, handing the menu back with a smooth, practiced ease. "Medium rare."

I blinked. "Uh ? —"

"You’ll love it," he cut me off with a smile, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand.

I didn’t argue.

I should have.

But back then? I was so used to letting him lead, letting him decide things for me, that it didn’t even register as wrong.

That was just how Alex was.

He talked through most of dinner—about his dad, about their influence, about how lucky he was to be in a family that mattered.

"You wouldn’t believe how many people try to get close to us," he said, shaking his head like it was exhausting. "Everybody wants something. Everyone’s looking for an angle."

I remember shifting in my seat, feeling… off.

"Not everyone ," I said, a little defensive.

Alex smiled like I was adorable. "I know you’re not," he said, all soft and reassuring, like I was some na?ve little girl who didn’t understand how the world worked. "That’s why I wanted us to happen, you know? Because I can trust you."

I should have really known then.

I was safe to him. A controlled factor in his life. Someone who wouldn’t challenge him, wouldn’t make him feel like he wasn’t the most important person in the room.

When the check came, I instinctively reached for my purse, but Alex laughed.

"Raven, don’t be ridiculous," he said, already pulling out his dad’s platinum credit card. "I got this."

I hesitated. "I don’t mind ? —"

"Let me take care of you," he said smoothly, handing the waiter the card. "That’s what I’m here for."

And just like that, the conversation was over.

I let him pay.

Let him drive me home.

Let him hold my hand like we were already something serious.

It wasn’t until later, lying in bed that night, that I felt something I couldn’t quite name.

Like I’d been swept up into something.

Like I hadn’t actually made any decisions that night—just followed his lead.

Like I’d stopped being me and started being something that belonged to him.

And the worst part?

I let it happen.

The signs had always been there. Only now, the veil has slipped, and I'm seeing him for who he truly is.

A shaky breath leaves me, my hands clenching into the sheets.

I should be devastated. And I am . But buried beneath the hurt, beneath the sheer panic of what happens next, something else starts to bloom.

Something colder.

Something sharper.

Because I might have lost Alex. I might have lost my safety net.

But I’m still standing.

And now?

Now, I have nothing left to lose.