Page 96 of Wicked Ends

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” She shifts the books in her arms.

I step closer, taking some of the books from her arms.

“Someone’s been studying hard.” I flip through the top book, impressed despite myself. “Trying to make up for a semester of focusing more on breaking the system than understanding it?”

“I understand the system just fine,” she grumbles. “That’s why I helped break it. Now I just need to pass this exam so I can focus on more important things.”

“Like what?” I fall into step beside her as she heads toward the classroom where her exam will be held.

“Like figuring out what comes next.” She glances at me, something vulnerable flashing across her face before her usual defenses kick in. She pauses. “And us.”

Us.

Such a small word for something so complicated. A few weeks of tentative moments, of learning each other in ways that go beyond the physical, of trying to navigate this new reality where we’re no longer enemies but something far more complex. Two weeks isn’t enough to erase centuries of history, but it’s a start.

“One thing at a time,” I say. “First, you pass your exam.”

“And then what?” she challenges.

I lean closer. “And then maybe there’s a reward waiting for you.”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “A reward? What are you, the teacher handing out gold stars?”

“If that’s what you’re into,” I reply, enjoying the way her eyes narrow at me. “But I was thinking of something else entirely.”

“Care to elaborate?” She tries to sound casual, but I can hear the curiosity in her voice.

“Nope.” I stop as we reach the classroom door, where other students are already filing in, looking just as stressed as Rose. “Consider it motivation.”

She huffs, but I can tell she’s intrigued. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“Yep.” I hand her books back, letting my fingers brush against hers deliberately, then I lean in and kiss her, quickly but firmly, right there in front of everyone. “Good luck.”

Forty-Three

Rose

The exam was brutal, but I crushed it. Two hours of magical theory questions that would have reduced me to tears a few months ago, but now? I practically breezed through them. Okay, maybe not breezed, there was definitely sweat involved, but I knew my stuff. I’m exhausted but triumphant as I trudge back to my dorm, ready to go to bed and not move for approximately the next century.

I reach my door, but it swings open, unlocked, and I freeze, my brain trying to process what I’m seeing. Or rather, what I’m not seeing.

My room is empty.

All my stuff is gone. It’s like I never existed here at all.

“What the fuck?” I step inside, spinning around as if my stuff might be hiding in a corner. But there’s nothing. Just an empty box of a room.

The panic hits me in a rush. I drop my backpack and rush to check the closet. Empty. The bathroom. Empty.

“Hank?” I call out. His terrarium that sat on my desk is gone too. “HANK?”

Oh hell. Did Victoria decide to get rid of me after all? Did someone else with a grudge decide to make me disappear, starting with my stuff?

I spin around again, ready to run and find Lucien or Ash or anyone who might know what the hell is going on, when a figure appears in my doorway.

Drake.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching me with those beautiful blue eyes. He’s wearing that smile that makes him look like an innocent boy and a dangerous man at the same time.