Page 42 of Stormbreaker

“Where is she?” I hear someone’s muffled demand through the walls. Knox.

I sit up, and the clock tells me it’s almost noon. I rub a hand down my face, feeling like I’ve been hit by a brick wall. Domino and her roommates left, probably hours ago, to head for class, and I slept through the entire thing.

Knox is still shouting, and I haul myself out of bed, gathering the clothes I tossed on the floor last night and throwing open the door.

“Knox,” I yell. “What are you doing?”

He whirls on me. “Where have you been?”

“I slept in here last night.”

“Why?”

I brush past him and punch the keypad outside my door.

“Why aren’t you in your bed, and why weren’t you in class this morning?”

We both enter my dorm room and come to a halt. The damage is even worse in the stark light of day. The angry red letters seem to hover off the wall like they’ve been hammered in place with rusty nails.

Traitor.

I’m a traitor to everything my House represents. I rejected their test and effectively spat in the face of our duty. The weight of my choice seeps through my skin like poison. I am the House scion’s daughter, and it is my responsibility to uphold its values. I didn’t just betray my father; I betrayed everyone in Fiama.

“What the fuck?” Knox asks, his expression a mixture of astonishment and anger. “Who did this?”

“How should I know?” I answer, dumping my clothes into the hamper and fumbling through my ruined things for something salvageable to wear. It seems they didn’t touch most of my dressier outfits. Instead, my school stuff seems to have been the target. My pants are all stained with paint splatters, but they’ll have to do. I rescue a clean sweater from the drawer where I’ve been keeping Teddy.

I return him to the pile, not bothering to hide him. Knox knows all about my attachment to my old toy, and I don’t think even he’s a big enough dick to give me a hard time about it right now.

I head for the bathroom to change. Looking down at myself, I uselessly wipe away a splash of red. I throw some water on my face and run a brush through my hair before tying it up in a loose ponytail.

When I return to the room, Knox is pacing back and forth on his phone. “Get someone to clean this up,” he’s demanding with authority and barely contained rage. “This is a mess. She needs new uniforms, too. I’ll kill whoever did this.”

He seems genuinely pissed, and I can’t decide if it’s on my behalf or if this is about something else. I’ll never understand this strange need to “protect” me while also disrespecting me at every turn. But I suppose it’s no different than my parents.

While Knox rages on the line, I hunt down my phone, finding it at the bottom of my bag where I tossed it last night. I need to head back to the med wing. Hopefully, Trin’s awake and feeling better.

“Where are you going?” Knox asks as he disconnects from the line. “Someone is coming to clean this up.”

He waves a hand, and I nod. “Thank you for taking care of that,” I say, truly meaning it. I don’t know how I’d deal with this otherwise. “I’m going to see Trinity now.”

I head for the door. He sidesteps in front of me, blocking my exit.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Poet, you can’t be seen with her anymore. They had to rescue her from that fight—it’s embarrassing. Your image is tarnished enough, and you need to cut her off.”

I inhale a fortifying breath. “My image? Trinity almost died. I’m not worried about my image.”

Knox backs up and leans against the door, effectively barricading me in the room. “What did your father want yesterday?”

“The same thing you do,” I say wryly. “But I’ve promised to fix this.”

“Why did you do it?” he asks.

“I told you. I couldn’t kill that man.”

A muscle in his jaw ticks, and his arms tense where they’re folded over his chest.