Page 9 of Wicked Dove (Institute Thirteen #1)

SIX

ELODIE

Idon’t think I’ve ever felt more alone.

Kael is still here, unfortunately. He’s sprawled across his bed like usual with his hands tucked under his head as he pretends to be asleep. I can’t look at him. That will only make me think of him more, and that’s the last thing I need when I’m already on the cusp of death.

He fucked me and ran.

He fucked me, revealed he’s a freaking vampire, and doubled down on the fact that I’m going to die, before running away.

A vampire.

Watching his face shift like that, his features change to reveal who he truly is, was something else. I can’t put it into words, but apparently I liked it because I came even harder than I had the first time.

Then I told him what I was and he laughed. Actually fucking laughed.

I felt small, vulnerable, and overwhelmingly exposed.

That felt a lot like high school all over again.

Only, it wasn’t a deadly glare from a cheerleader or a shoulder nudge from a jock, but a death warning from a vampire.

That’s what I can’t shake.

The truth.

I’m going to die.

That’s what Kael seems to know, and now that’s what I’m certain of too. My mind reels with it over and over again, the reality of the matter only intensifying with each moment that ticks by. I have no concept of what time it is. I managed to eat, but that feels like an eternity ago.

The food was made to order. Another telling sign that I was getting my final meal. I’d watched enough crime shows and murder investigations to know the treatment those on death row get.

Of all the things I chose? Grilled cheese and tomato soup. If I’m going to die, that’s the last taste I want on my tongue. I wish I could have it again, but the glass is firmly back in place now, confining us to this room.

I can’t lie down, though. My mind seems to have cranked up a notch. Instead, I sit with my back to Kael, my fresh top and shorts in place as I swing my legs over the side of the bed.

Before I can stop myself, I glance over my shoulder, not shocked to find he hasn’t moved.

I don’t even think he’s asleep. I think he’s pretending, to avoid me, but he doesn’t need to go to such lengths when I’m more than willing to act as though he doesn’t exist anymore.

Talking to him is the last thing I want to do after what happened earlier.

I turn back around, looking down at my lap as I trace my finger over the ribbed texture of my shorts. I don’t know why everything has to be white. It’s what Kael is wearing, too, and it feels even more clinical than the room I’m in.

“I can hear you thinking from here.” His voice cuts through the silence, stiffening my spine as irritation ripples through me.

I ignore him. It feels refreshing to do it back to him. The desire to hum tickles my lips, but I refrain, knowing I’ll only frustrate myself too.

“I didn’t know the cat could catch your tongue,” he goads, and I turn to him with a glowering gaze.

I tilt my head, trying to hide the fact that I’m shocked to find his eyes open and trained on me.

“Why are you here, Kael?” He ignores me, turning to face the ceiling, but his gaze remains wide.

“You know why I’m here,” I push, suddenly eager to get under his skin.

I want to push his temper to the limit. I want to leave the cat catching his tongue, whatever the hell that means.

It beats thinking about what’s coming for me.

“I also know what your pussy feels like, but that doesn’t mean I care.”

His words do as he hopes, sending a sharp pang through my chest, but I refuse to back down now. I’ll go down with this ship; my stubbornness knows no bounds.

“Is it because you’re a vampire?” I ask, and he scoffs, so I try again. “Because you’re a douchebag?”

“Definitely,” he confirms, his gaze snapping to mine.

“Whatever, I don’t care anyway,” I say, waving a hand dismissively as I turn away from him.

When I feel this worked up and stressed, I usually have the promise of letting some steam off with Walker on the horizon, but not now, not this time. Worry floods my veins.

“Where did your head go?” Kael asks, interrupting my thoughts, but I don’t offer him a response.

Thankfully, he takes the hint and silence settles over the room again, but it doesn’t last long before he clears his throat.

“Have you ever felt pain, Elodie?”

There’s something different in his tone this time and my pulse quickens. A flash reminder of my father’s heavy hand plays through my thoughts, but I don’t speak a word.

“Have you ever felt suffocated?” he pushes, making my heart race as I recall hands around my throat, pressing so tight my vision blurred, and the promise of death felt like a release. I still keep my mouth shut, refusing to share another vulnerable piece of myself with him.

“The reality is, Elodie. It doesn’t matter what you’ve done because someone’s always going to hate you for it.

Someone’s always going to want you dead.

Maybe death is a gift to silence the noise.

Maybe it’s a place to just go and be yourself, where you don’t have to give a fuck about the rest of the world. ”

His words threaten to suffocate me as I glance back at him, but his gaze is still fixed on the ceiling.

Clearing my throat, I part my lips. “Or maybe it’s the blunt end to a life that was truly worth living.”

It almost looks as though he’s smiling. I can’t guarantee it from this angle, and it’s over before it’s even begun.

“Death almost always comes at the hands of others; we just have to choose who those hands belong to,” he replies, his gaze finding mine, and I gulp at the darkness that resides in his eyes.

Before I can find a single word to say, the door swings open and Miss Torture walks in, clipboard in hand, with her gaze set on me.

“Miss Elodie Blackwood, your summoning has come,” she declares, and I slowly rise to my feet, my heart pulsing in my chest, but before I can take a single step toward her, she spins her attention to my cellmate. “Kael Forrester, yours too.”

“Miss Elodie Blackwood.”

My name rings out through the room like a lashing from one of my father’s worn leather belts. I brace for the impact, but it does nothing to calm the sting.

My face pulses with every breath I take as I try to force every inch of the room into my memory. If this is the last place I’ll ever see, then I want to memorize every piece of it.

Running my tongue over my bottom lip, I hold on to the podium positioned in front of me.

I’m standing dead center in a windowless room, the ceiling reaching up for miles and the entire perimeter lined with dark oak benches.

Each row is littered with people I don’t recognize, but the ones who seem to matter most sit straight ahead of me.

Kael remains closer to the door we entered through, awaiting his fate.

I don’t turn to him, though. I’m too focused on the leading members of The Sanctum.

At the far left is a sharp woman with slicked-back red hair that’s twisted into a bun. Her blazer looks like it costs more than any amount of money I’ve ever had the privilege of touching, and God knows what her silk shirt retails at. You don’t get stuff like that in a thrift store.

Beside her is a man with black hair pushed back off his face and gelled into place. His distaste for me is evident in the disdain that radiates from him and the glare that turns his eyes into slits.

On the far right seat is a blond-haired man with his fingers laced together on the podium before them, but it’s the look of indifference that makes me gulp as I stare at him.

Beside him is a woman with icy-white hair draped down her back. I shiver as my eyes lock with hers. There’s a withering air to her, like she’d happily snap me in two.

Finally, dead center and completing the row of five, is an older man with peppered black hair that’s tucked behind his ears.

He looks down at me. The small glasses perched on the edge of his nose remind me of my old high school principal.

He hated me, but I get the feeling the man before me hates me even more.

I don’t know how I know it. It’s not just the looks on their faces but the air surrounding me. It feels charged, almost suffocating.

“Confirm your name, child,” he snaps, and I quickly remember he called my name.

Clearing my throat, I nod. “Elodie Blackwood.”

I hate how weak I sound. They’re definitely going to kill me on the spot. I lace my fingers together, hoping to hide the slight tremble that’s vibrating through me.

“Miss Elodie Blackwood of twenty-seven sixteen Cherry Blossom Lane, Lot two-one-three?” He says it like a question, but it’s clear he already has his facts in line.

“Yes,” I say with a sigh.

“Nineteen years old, dropped out of high school, and is yet to make any kind of mark on the world.” Now that is a statement. One that makes the white-haired woman smirk.

Bitch.

He cocks a brow at me, though, awaiting my confirmation.

“Yes,” I answer begrudgingly.

“Child to Warren and Georgia Blackwood.”

The drunk and the broken.

“Yes.”

“A scythe?”

The room was already quiet, but now the silence is deafening.

“I, well, uh…”

“Yes or no will suffice,” the blond-haired man hollers, glancing at his watch as though I’m the one keeping him from something important.

I raise my eyebrows and nod. “So I’m told.” Even if I don’t know what that actually means or entails.

“Your dormant magic triggered the moment you killed a Mr. Johnathan V. Marsh.”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut, which is nothing in comparison to what Johnny faced. I think I’m going to be sick.

“I—”

“Do not speak,” the redhead growls, eyes blazing with rage, and I clamp my lips shut.

“After running extensive tests on your magic, it’s clear your abilities have remained latent. Although you may have lifted the spell embedded into your bloodline, it did not, however, gift you with the dreaded magic of a scythe.”

I blink at him twice, letting his words take root before I clear my throat again. “So I can leave?”

My heart races, but it’s for a whole different reason this time.

Hope.

“No, Miss Blackwood, you cannot,” he retorts, shredding what’s left of my positivity.

Tears threaten to prick eyes. I just need Walker.

I don’t know how or when I became so attached to him, but he would know exactly what to do in this moment.

While I stand here, exposing my na?veté.

“But, with the latent magic taken into account, it goes against The Sanctum laws to put you down.”

Whispers spread around those seated in anticipation, each speculating upon my fate, no doubt.

“What does that mean?” I dare to ask, certain my heart is about to leap out of my chest.

“On this occasion, we have made the decision to place you in The Vale.”

The Vale?

Instinctively, I glance at Kael, but he’s ignoring me. He mentioned The Vale. I don’t really recall what he said, only that The Sanctum controlled everyone there, or tried to at least.

“She’s too dangerous for The Vale,” a woman yells from the worried audience, aiming a finger at me, and I almost choke on my breath.

“Miss Elodie Blackwood will be enrolled into Institute Thirteen, effective immediately, where we will continue to monitor her magic and her danger to the world,” Mr. Peppered hair declares, before slamming a gavel down on the podium.

Just like that, the gate behind me unlocks, swinging open for me to exit. I don’t hesitate, scurrying away from their scrutinizing gazes toward where Kael stands with Miss Torture.

I’m not dying today.

I’m not fucking dying today.

It’s only when I reach them that I recall exactly where I will be going. I’m not going home. No. Institute Thirteen, that’s what he said, but what on Earth is that supposed to mean?

Spinning on the spot, I turn back toward the panel, hand raised as if I’m back in school, eager to ask a teacher a question. “Excuse me, I—”

“Silence,” the angry black haired man snarls, launching to his feet with his hands splayed on the podium.

“You mortals go about your work, your love, your wars as if your lives are all that matters, but there is another world that awaits you. One that will make you realize just how small you are in this godforsaken land. Mark my words.”

Before I can process his promise, the lights dim, only to relight a moment later. I gape in surprise when I realize Kael is no longer standing with us. He’s officially taken my spot in the center of the room.

“Mr. Kael Forrester?”

Just like that, I’m dismissed. I should be thankful I’m not dead, but there’s still a lot I don’t understand.

“Correct,” Kael answers immediately, as if he has been through this process before.

“Thirty-nine ninety-seven Barrack Hollows Court?”

“Correct.”

“Age.”

“Twenty-One.”

“Child of Yvette and Franco Forrester?”

“Correct.”

“Guardianship of a Mr. Freddie Forrester?”

“Correct?”

“I have here, Mr. Forrester, that you were taken under The Sanctum’s control for killing a female wolf aged eighteen.”

Chills run down my spine as I gape at the man I’ve been locked in a small space with. He killed someone? He could have killed me. I can’t talk, though. I killed someone, too, yet that still doesn’t feel real.

“Correct,” Kael confirms, making me stand a little taller.

“Some say an eye for an eye is the only solution to this matter, but others have implied it was self-defense. Was that the case?” The redheaded woman asks, and I quickly realize that the five people on the stand before me have decided my fate, but I don’t even know their names.

Kael looks at someone in the crowd, lips pursed ever so slightly, before he releases a small sigh and turns back to the woman in question.

“Yes.”

Self-defense? That’s like me, technically. I definitely can’t be mad at him.

“It’s with this consideration that we take your sentencing seriously, but after much discussion, a solution has presented itself.

You have two options, Mr. Forrester,” the central man states, leaning forward an extra inch as he glowers at Kael.

“Death, or your saving grace. You may escape the slice of death’s blade tonight under the condition that you too return to Institute Thirteen as the guardian and protector of Miss Elodie Blackwood. Do you accept?”

Kael’s gaze finds mine and I can’t look away. I’m fixed in a stare-off with a guy I want to hate with every fiber of my being, and now they’re offering him my guardianship. I don’t need a guardian.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to state just how furious that fact makes me when Kael turns back to the panel and nods.

“I accept.”