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“Then he asked if my parents knew and I said no. He wanted to know why, not the details, just how I felt inside. Which is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever heard, if I’m honest. People always want every detail, but that didn’t matter to him in that moment at all.”
Zane’s father isn’t like many, and he’s definitely not as cutthroat as other members of the Monarchy. Which makes it very easy to forget who he is sometimes.
“And what did you tell him?” Eldon asks, his lips close to her ear, and I’m instantly jealous of his proximity. I’m half lost in my head over the entire thing and half desperate to press every inch of myself against her so she knows where I am.
“I told him I was fearful for my life.”
“Good girl,” Eldon praises, and she smiles, her eyelashes fluttering closed for a second.
“What happened then?” Brax pushes, and she blinks at him with a frown.
“I don’t really know. One second, I’m standing there with him, and the next, I’m falling through the gateway into Lyra’s office.”
Yeah, that doesn’t make any sense at all. “At least you’re back now,” I offer, tension still coiling my muscles as she grimaces.
“Well, I wish that’s where the drama ended.”
“How is there more?” Zane grumbles.
“Because it follows me around, apparently,” Raven admits with a sigh, and there’s no denying that fact.
“You’re telling me,” Eldon says with a smirk, making her fake glare at him.
“Hit us with it.” Brax shuffles, bracing his elbows on his knees like he’s getting ready for it.
“I heard Sebastian and Burton talking.”
“About what?” I ask, already not liking where this is going.
“About me.” Thankfully, before I start storming for the door to get my hands on the fuckers, Raven continues explaining. “Sebastian is up to something shady, I can sense it, but so is Burton. He threatened to pull him from the academy and the Guild if he was aiding anybody in any unlawful way.” Her eyebrows practically touch her hairline as she explains.
“Fuck. My head is spinning,” Zane murmurs.
“Tell me about it,” she retorts, her body going lax in Eldon’s hold as exhaustion continues to take over her.
Rising to my feet, I cut the distance between us and offer her my hand. “Come on, I’ll take care of you.” There’s so much more I want to say, so many things I’m feeling, but she needs someone right now, and holy fuck, it’s going to be me.
Eldon’s hands flex at her waist but I pull her from his grasp the second she places her palm against mine. Without a backward glance, I lead her across the room to my bedroom and kick the door shut behind us with a finality that tells those other fuckers to back off.
I’m all for her being our girl. I crave it. But right now, she’s mine.
She remains quiet as I guide her toward my bed, stopping short as she scans the room with wide, inquisitive eyes. I can’t imagine what she sees when she looks at my space. When she continues to spin on the spot, releasing my hand to do so, I quickly realize that this is the first time she’s been in here.
How?
Shaking my head, I glance from the navy sheets on my bed to the white desk and nightstands, then follow her gaze to the bathroom and closet. Other than that, there are plain white walls and a gray carpet. Nothing more, nothing less. We’re given creative reign over our personal spaces, but I have nothing to give.
I actually don’t know if the others have put their stamp on their rooms and I don’t care. If I’m not going to be here forever, or might even die in the process, what’s the point? I’m sure I have a dumb way of thinking, but ever since my father died, it’s how I’ve seen the world.
It’s difficult to come back from a loss of that magnitude. It’s even harder to wonder how your death could impact somebody else in that way. But it does. Whether we like it or not, whether I decorate this room or not, we all leave a legacy. We all touch the world in some way like no other has or ever will.
My gaze shifts back to Raven. None of my internal thoughts are plastered across the wall, explaining why they’re blank and void of presence, but she doesn’t push. Another quality about her that draws me in even closer.
You know if you’ve been in her presence, the fact will never leave you, right up until the moment death claims you and you’re left craving one more second of her. One more taste.
Her eyes land on mine, an uncertain lift to the corner of her mouth as she tries to assess me. Without lifting my gaze from hers, I reach for the lapels of her blazer and slowly drag the material down her arms.
“Thank you,” she whispers, her shoulders relaxing as she speaks. I don’t utter a word in response, even though I don’t truly know what she’s thanking me for. My brain is overloaded by my thoughts and feelings, so I reach for the top button of her blouse instead.
