Page 48 of Stormbreaker

Winter sits down on the other side of Knox, while Lacey plops down beside Jackson and immediately starts giggling and tossing her hair. Jackson focuses on his food, mostly silent, and I watch them, realizing what’s going on. Jackson is totally clueless that Lacey is into him. Unlike Sal, who’ll go down on any girl who gives him the time of day, Jackson has always been a bit more reserved when it comes to women. And it’s not for lack of options. He’s got that quiet, broody thing going on that makes him seem a little mysterious.

He really isn’t, but the vibes are immaculate.

I’m not sure whether I should encourage Lacey’s attraction, so she has something to focus on beyond hating me, or if Jackson is way too good for her and deserves someone better.

The conversation continues as I pick at my food, realizing I don’t have much of an appetite. I scan the cafeteria, noticing Rook near the counter, holding his tray between his large hands. As if feeling my attention, he glances over, and my chest squeezes with a foreign sensation that feels like a very bad decision. I quickly look away to meet Knox’s narrowed eyes, as though he’s trying very hard to put something together.

Rook is now shuffling his way between the tables, searching for an empty seat.

I should never have looked over, because Knox clearly noticed and is now focused on Rook. Though the bruises on Knox’s neck have faded since the day Rook humiliated him, Knox has clearly been plotting his revenge. He has a look in his eye that suggests the time has come. So I do my best to distract him. Something tells me that Knox can try, but he’ll lose to Rook every time.

“What’s on your schedule this morning?” I ask, tugging on Knox’s wrist, but he ignores me as he continues staring at Rook.

I brace myself because I know that look far too well. I’ve played witness to it since we were six years old. He’s definitely plotting something.

Something reckless.

As Rook passes, Knox sticks his foot out. It all happens in a flash. Rook smoothly steps over it and spins around, his fist cocked. It connects with Knox’s face with a crack. Knox’s head whips back, and he tips over, scattering plates and glasses of juice everywhere.

A general rush of shouts and screams accompanies dishes clinking and people leaping up from their seats to avoid the mess.

“Shit,” I hiss under my breath as Knox groans and flops onto the table. Blood oozes from his nose, dripping down his face and pooling under his chin.

Rook leans over and hauls Knox up by the back of his shirt before pulling him close. “Didn’t learn your lesson last time?” Rook snarls in his ear. “Fuck off and leave me alone.”

Then he shoves Knox away. Knox slides off the seat, landing on the floor. Through it all, I can’t seem to move. Why am I always next to Knox whenever this happens?

Also, why was that kind of hot? It wasn’t. Skies, I need therapy.

Rook wipes his nose with the back of his hand, glaring at me and everyone else.

Inexplicably, his tray is still balanced in his other hand. Even the glass of water remains upright, and I swear he didn’t spill a drop. Okay, that is kind of hot.

He continues his way down to the end of the table, where he slams into his seat, picks up a bun, and tears into it with his teeth.

While he stares ahead, chewing slowly, I think he’s trying to make it seem like he doesn’t care, but I suspect this all bothers him more than he’s letting on. Understandably. A part of me wants to go over and apologize, but I don’t think either of us wants the attention that would draw. It’s better for Rook if I keep my distance.

Knox is such an ass. Did he really think he’d trip him like some dumb high school movie from the Warming Age?

“I think he passed out,” Sal says, hovering over Knox. His left eye is already swelling, and blood continues to drip down his face.

Jackson sighs and plants his hands on his hips. “Great. Now he’ll never shut up about this.”

17

It feels like it takes forever, but our third week at Amery finally comes to an end. That Friday night, I stretch my legs across my bed as I lean against the headboard, my tablet opened to a book that I’m not really reading.

Trinity should be leaving the med wing soon, and I can’t wait.

No one knows when the student leaders plan to start the next round of initiations, and the waiting is wearing on my nerves. As far as I’m aware, no one else from Fiama tested for another Society. From our House, two people failed, and one person died. Only Trinity’s first challenge resulted in a draw. I know she feels humiliated, but I still think it could have been worse. At least she’s still alive.

Part of me is eager to get the next part over with so I can redeem myself and pretend none of this ever happened. Of course, another part is worried I could die trying or be asked to do something even worse. I’m not sure what I’ll do then. I refuse to hurt anyone; I don’t care who they are.

Rook obviously passed his first test, since he’s still here, but no one can seem to agree on which House he opted for. I consider what it might be like to pledge the same House. When he first arrived, I was terrified of the prospect, but maybe things have shifted. Of course, once Knox takes over as scion, he’ll probably make Rook’s life a nightmare. Plus, despite everything I know about Solitudes, I can’t picture Rook hurting someone willingly.

Wherever he ends up, I can’t help but notice the way my heart flutters and my stomach drops every time I think about him. Something I should definitely keep to myself.

A knock comes at the door, and Lacey walks over to open it, tossing me a glare. Several people tumble into the room, and from the volume of their voices, the pungent smell, and their general pink-cheeked dishevelment, they’re clearly already stewed in Hollow moonshine.