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T: Are you sure you’ll be okay?
A: I don’t have a choice, do I?
T: If he does anything to you, call me. I’ll burn the whole House down.
That pulls a smile from me.
As much as everyone else here makes me feel unwanted, I can always count on Tara—and Nya, of course—to have my back. Their support is 95% of what keeps me going. The other 5% is my absolute refusal to let life hit me over the head and win. .
Because the truth is, I don’t belong at Saint Frederic University.
The students here will never accept me—and it’s been evident ever since I got here. Lying didn’t work. The fake engagement clearly hasn’t gotten rid of the public sentiment either.
I’m an outcast, and I always will be.
In the middle of texting Tara back, there’s a commotion that pulls my attention to Kingmaker House. The front doors of the House have burst open so violently they’ve swung all the way back on their hinges, hitting the old stonework walls of the building with a loud, echoing thud.
Alexander appears a moment later, rushing toward me. He looks harried, worried even, like I just startled him out of sleep or something important—he’s sprinting down the long walkway, barrelling through the cluster of guys in his way.
His eagerness is an act.
It always has been.
Suppressing the tingle that purrs to life in my chest is easier said than done, though. I want to straighten his messy hair and smooth the wrinkles out of his shirt.
I hate how much just the sight of him affects me.
This whole act was how he fooled me the first time. After getting to know him, I thought he was different. A tortured soul cracking from the pressure of his unconventional life. His pain called to mine. I thought we were alike in that way.
Don’t let him get to you.
By the time he meets me at the gate, I’ve got my feelings under control. I think.
Alexander opens the gate quickly, leaning down to pick up my heavy suitcase with one hand. He lifts it like it’s filled with feathers, the ropes of muscles in his forearm rippling beneath his skin. The smell of him envelops me.
It’s fresh soap and coffee, with the hint of cigarettes and a splash of cologne.A new one.It’s strong and citrusy, wrapping me in a heady haze of orange blossom and minty vanilla.A rush of goosebumps prickles my skin. He smellssogood.
I close my eyes, holding my breath until I’ve gathered myself.
When I open my eyes, his blue ones are searching my face. I crane my neck, leveling him with what I hope is a convincing glare.
We’re still enemies.
“Who did that to you?” His voice is deathly low.
It takes me a second to realize what he’s talking about. My fingers travel to my split lip. The bleeding has stopped, and save for some swelling and a slight ache, it’s fine.
“It’s none of your business.”
I would rather not explain to him who did it and why. The last thing I need is him thinking I’m okay with this bullshit stunt he’s pulling just because I rubbed it in Cassidy’s face.
His jaw clenches, and the vein in his forehead appears. I stare at him while his eyes are locked on my injury. There’s an angry set to his mouth, though he blinks languidly. We stand like that for a long minute, until I decide to break the silence.
“This was all part of your plan, wasn’t it?” I hiss, narrowing my eyes.
Confusion deepens his scowl, but he stays silent.
“You did all this to leave me with no other option but to rely on you, right?” The words rip from me with so much force, even I’m surprised. Anger thrums in my veins, and it feels amazing to take it all out on him. “First, ratting me out to force me into this fucked up engagement, and now getting me kicked off Hemlock House.”
