Page 26 of Wicked Dove (Institute Thirteen #1)

There has to be another way. I can’t give up now.

Desperation grows stronger with every inhale I take, and I turn my attention to the back of the Institute Twelve building.

I charge toward it without another thought, hopeful that I’ll find something inside.

My pulse thrums in my ears as I grab the door handle and wrench it open with all of my strength, only to stumble back with a scream when a figure lurks in the shadows.

I hiss as my palms drag across the ground, gaping in horror as a familiar face appears in the opening.

“Petal,” he rasps, and I shake my head in disbelief.

“No.” Scrambling to my feet, I turn away from him, hoping he’ll take the hint and leave me alone.

“Hey, what did I do?” he says with a gasp, and I scoff.

“Leave me the hell alone. You’re an asshole by association,” I grumble, looking for another option as I plant my hands on my hips. When I hear his footsteps approach, I start walking, refusing to glance back as I desperately keep searching for an out.

“Don’t associate me with Kael,” he demands, and I shake my head.

“He’s your friend and roommate. I’m definitely associating you,” I insist, doing a full lap of the building before I turn my attention back to the exit, but before I can reach the wrought-iron gate, he hurries past me to stand in my path.

“What do you need right now?” he asks with his hands raised in surrender, and I shake my head again, more with frustration than anything, but I can’t help it.

“Some space to breathe,” I bite, and he raises his eyebrows at me in confusion.

“And you think you’re going to get that out here?” he clarifies, leaving me speechless and choking on my next breath.

“Let me pass,” I grumble when I can’t find the right response, but instead of heeding my request, he moves closer.

“Make a deal with me,” he breathes calmly, like I haven’t gotten myself worked up so hard that I’m close to passing out.

“No,” I bite, and he smirks at me.

“Petal.”

“Rion,” I retort, and his smile grows as he plants his hands on my shoulders.

“I make good deals,” he insists, but I’m more mad by the fact that I don’t balk at his touch.

“I don’t believe you,” I rasp, clinging to nothing as he takes a step back and lifts his hands in surrender again.

“Don’t run right now, and I’ll get you the privacy you want. I’ll even personally make sure that you are left alone.”

My nostrils flare with frustration because I know without a shadow of a doubt that Institute Twelve isn’t going to be my savior today. Trusting him, however, seems like a dangerous plank to walk. I just don’t know what else I’m supposed to do.

“What do you expect from me?”

His hazel eyes shimmer with victory already. “Consider it another part of yesterday’s deal, and you already gave me what I wanted then.”

I rake my teeth over my bottom lip nervously. It feels too good to be true. It probably is too good to be true, but there’s something in his stare that makes me breathe one word.

“Deal.”

He doesn’t miss a beat, waving for me to follow after him, and I go willingly.

He remains quiet, and as we make our way onto the path that runs around the exterior of The Vale, I quickly understand we’re heading back to Thirteen.

It’s only when we’re inside the institute building and on the fourth floor that I pause in confusion.

“What’s this?” I murmur, confused about how he’s going to provide what he offered, but he opens his bedroom door and turns to me expectantly. “I’m not going in there.”

“Trust me,” he insists, and I purse my lips.

“I’m not going to get any quiet in his room,” I retort, and he nudges the door open wider to reveal an open lounge.

“My room is the door straight ahead. No one will bother you in there,” he promises, but I’m too busy gaping at the fact that their room is nothing like ours.

“Including you?” I finally murmur, and he snickers.

“Including me.”

Why would he promise that? I don’t know, but I seem to trust him enough to find out as I step over the threshold and make a beeline straight for his room. I don’t pay any attention to the communal area, but the second I’m staring at his personal space, I eat it up.

Navy and gray sheets are spread perfectly over his double bed, and they match the curtains draped on the far right wall.

There’s a door off to the left which looks like a bathroom, and another doorway to my right which looks like a closet.

All of the furnishings are white and light oak, making the place feel warm and cozy, but beyond that, there’s nothing, no personality, nothing that screams this is Rion’s space.

“Do what you want. I’ll make sure to get you some food,” he murmurs, and I turn to face him.

“You don’t have to do that,” I insist as he grabs a remote control from his nightstand to pass to me, and I notice the massive television on the wall beside the bathroom.

He doesn’t acknowledge my words as he turns back for the door, truly leaving me alone in his space, but as he grabs the handle, ready to go, he turns to me with furrowed brows and uncertainty darkening his gaze.

“Does it hurt?”

“Does what hurt?”

“Your back,” he breathes, a reminder of yesterday flashing through my mind as I shake my head, refusing to let it plague me anymore than it already has in the last twenty-four hours.

“No, it was a long time ago.”