Page 25 of Revenant

“Of course. You know, I stopped by last night to make sure you got home safe.” His admission catches me off guard, because I could’ve sworn he was the one who brought me back.

Maybe Moriah was telling the truth, and I really did remember it wrong.

“Instead of finding you, though, I ran into your roommate.”

“You did?” I try to school my expression, but the shock he saw Reyna wins out. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe she’s fine. If a body had been found in the quad, he’d have mentioned it.

“She was less than thrilled I came looking for you so late.”

“Oof. Yeah, she’s a peach.” I gesture down at myself. “I need to change and I’m honestly praying she’s not in the room when I do.”

He falls into step beside me, and that easy smile of his settles the knot of what-ifs I’ve been carrying since I woke.

“Well,” he says, “if you’re up for it, I could show you around campus once you’ve changed. Might keep you from getting lost again.”

I cut him a sideways look; lips pressed into a tight smile. “So now you’re trying to get me alone?”

To my surprise, he doesn’t deny it.

And I can’t bring myself to say no. There’s something magnetic about him, the way he draws the light in a room toward himself. One look from those gray eyes, and my whole body leans in, like some part of me has been waiting for permission to finally trust someone.

After I lost my parents and moved to the city, blending in was easy. I had friends here and there, but never anyone I felt safe opening up to. Being alone was simpler. When I was alone, no one could leave me. Pryce pulls me out of that and the effortlessness of it should scare me more than it does.

“Do you remember a scream last night?” I ask, taking a slow, hesitant step toward my door.

“A scream?”

If I wasn’t already prone to overthinking, I might have missed it, the slight over tilt of his head—confusion that feels a little too practiced.

“Yeah. You don’t remember?” I want to mention that Moriah didn’t either, but something in me says to keep that to myself. “There was a scream, and then you told everyone the party was over?”

“Oh—right.” His shoulders loosen, like the memory finally clicked. “Just some idiots hiding in the woods. They scared a girl walking back to the dorms.”

It comes out smooth, believable even. And I desperately want to trust him. I do trust him. Why would he lie? It was a chaotic night, drinks were flowing, and honestly, I should just be grateful no one actually got hurt.

The tension drains from my shoulders. For now that explanation feels like enough.

My fingers curl around the door knob, uncertainty settling deep in my chest—not from Pryce, but because I have no idea if Reyna is inside.

“Are you okay?”

I shouldn’t be surprised he’s asking; with the way my heart’s beating, they could probably hear it from the space station.

“I’ll be fine. I just need to work up the courage to go in. Hopefully she’s in class or something.” Which reminds me—I really need to sneak a peek at her schedule. I always imagined rooming with someone like Moriah. Instead, I got…the complete opposite. Maybe I’m wrong, and we just haven’t had the chance to get close. Which will never happen if I keep avoiding her like the plague because she makes me uncomfortable.

“Don’t take too long, tesoro.” He winks, and I slip inside, easing the door shut behind me.

“Glad to see you’re alive.”

Reyna’s voice puts every nerve in my body on alert. She’s not dead. It was a dream. I’d half convinced myself of it already, but here she is, perched on her bed with a book propped against her knees, not a hair out of place. It’s the proof I need that I might actually be losing it.

“Barely,” I joke, crossing the room to my closet and yanking out the first shirt my hand lands on. “Took about four too many shots. Ended up face down in Moriah’s room.”

“Mm.” She turns a page. She hasn’t looked at me once, but I get the strange sense she’s not actually reading.

“Did anything…” I pull the shirt over my head, and the question comes out muffled by the fabric. “Happen here last night? After I left?”

“Why would anything have happened?” The boredom in her tone is so complete, like I’ve wasted a breath we both know was pointless.