Chapter 8
1669 Words
As a cluster of guards rushes in, I’m escorted from the office by June without so much as a further explanation. Shouts erupt, and the last thing I see before the door shuts in my face is a guard leaping onto Luca, who puts up a struggle.
“What an unexpected turn of events,” June blows out a breath, hooking her arm with mine. “Come, let’s get you to your room. You’re going to love it.”
“What did Luca do?” My heart is so loud inside my ears that I can’t think. “Why was he exiled?”
“Never mind that, love. It’s not something that should concern you.” At this point, it feels more as if I’m getting dragged by June than I am willingly walking myself. I jerk my arm away, making it evident I’m not appreciating the notion. She pauses, her expression softening. “He did something bad. Something that is not in my power or right to tell you. When the time is appropriate, I’m certain my sister will discuss it with you.”
Confused, I ask, “Your sister?”
“Oh, of course,” June snorts with an awkward laugh. “Selene Humphrey is my sister.”
That explains a lot of June’s behavior toward the headmistress. “Oh.”
“Anyhow. This is your room.” June steps aside, revealing a cherry-red door. It’s adorned with postcards from around the world and a few faux sunflowers haphazardly tucked in between. “You’ll be sharing it with another girl, Ariah Winter. She’s a bit shy but sweet. I’m certain you’ll get along well.”
I stand there, holding one elbow with my hand, a duffel bag swinging on each side of me. The weight of them—despite not containing a lot of stuff—is starting to become uncomfortable. Though it isn’t enough to distract me from my scattered nerves.
“I see you only brought these,” June asserts, pointing at my duffel bags. “We have a storeroom filled with second-hand necessities and such. Not everyone’s parents, especially those from human families, are keen on helping their young ones settle in and make their stay comfortable.”
“Yeah, well…” I trail off. What can I say? I still can’t believe my mom did this to me. And I wonder how Dad will react, but I shake the thought away as quickly as it comes up. I don’t have the strength to deal with that kind of pain right now.
“The point is,” June rests a hand on my arm. “You’re welcome to visit me and take a few things for your side of the room. Make it a bit more homey.”
I doubt I can turn this foreign place into a home, but the gesture is nice. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Ariah was born into a werewolf family,” June continues. “You can learn a lot from her about our world.”
I nod. So many questions bubble inside my chest, but I can’t bring myself to ask them. Like, what is going to happen to me now? How long will I be staying? What will happen to my parents?
“Right, I suppose that settles it then. You know where to find me.” June smiles, but I can see the concern shadowing her features.
A heavy sense of doom starts to kick in. The kind where you have new-girl syndrome and have to accept you’re going to be fresh meat for bullies.
I watch helplessly as June sprints down the cavernous hallway like her feet are on fire.
There’s a clicking sound behind me, and light spills onto the floor, lining my shadow in a halo of gold.
I twist around to find a girl my age gawking at me with a lollipop in her cheek. Her eyes narrow onto my duffels, then work their way back up to my face. I think she tries to smile, but it’s hard to tell. “Aphf newf girlf?” she mumbles around the candy, then pulls it out. “You’re staying in this room? With me?” She waves a hand behind her. “As in, I get a roommate?”
I glance around. “Yeah, I guess so.”
She startles me with a loud squeal and throws her arms around me, pulling me into a lung-crushing hug. “Welcome!” When she steps back, she’s breathless with excitement. “You have no idea how miserable it has been without a roommate. What’s your name?”
“Hailey.” I trail after her, trying to process the unexpected turn of events. “Wow,” is all I manage. “Are all the rooms like this?”
“I’m Ariah. Ariah Winter—but I’m guessing you know that already. And to answer your question, nope,” she beams. “My parents are awesome and made sure I have everything I need.”
A sad lump forms in my throat as I scan the enormous space. The room exudes a warm, cozy ambiance, bathed in rich autumnal hues. The walls adorn shades of burnt orange and golden brown, creating an inviting atmosphere. In one corner, a well-equipped desk stands, featuring a sleek laptop, a compact coffee maker, and even a popcorn machine.
This is not just a room; it’s a cozy haven, perfect for studying, relaxing, and indulging in small comforts.
No doubt everything is expensive, too.
“Uh, which bed is yours?” My eyes bounce between twin beds bedecked with rich brown bedding decorated with fiery orange leaves.
“This one here.” She points to the bed on the left. “I bought some bedding for the second one when my previous roommate passed away. You know, to fill up the space.” Her brows furrow when she notices my change of expression. “You don’t like it? I can take it off if you want?”
Ariah reaches for the pillow on my bed, but I shake my head. “No, it’s not that. The bedding is pretty. It’s—you said the previous girl died?”
“Oh.” Ariah looks down. “Yeah. She was murdered.”
“Murdered?” I sputter. “While she was here, at this place?”
Ariah shifts, regret obvious on her face. “Yeah. I’m sorry. I’ve already said too much.”
“Where? In this room?” I inch back toward the door, my skin pulling too tight for my liking. “It wasn’t in this room, was it?”
“I can lie and say no, but someone is going to tell you anyway. Might as well hear it from me.”
The half-confirmation pools into a nauseating sensation in the pit of my stomach. “Where? Please don’t tell me—on my bed?”
“She was found stabbed in her bed,” Ariah confirms. Then, she quickly adds, “But don’t worry, they threw it out and burned the bed afterward. They replaced it with a brand-new one.”
I peer at the door. “Is this a regular thing around here?”
“If it were, do you think I’d still be here?” she snorts. “No, it happened during class. The girl, Sally, said she wasn’t feeling well and got sent back to our room. Later that day, when one of her friends checked up on her, she was found lying in her own blood in her bed.”
“Where were you?”
“In class. I’m so grateful I didn’t get to see it. I can’t imagine what her friends went through seeing her like that,” Ariah sighs, looking tired all of a sudden. “Sally and I weren’t besties, but I liked her. She was nice to have around.”
“Don’t you feel uncomfortable sleeping in a room where a girl was murdered?”
“Yeah. It was terrible at first, but you kind of get over it.” Her forehead wrinkles. “Anyway, they caught him. The boy who did it. It was her ex-boyfriend who fell into a fit of jealous rage. So, you don’t have to worry about some psychopath being on the loose. He got punished for what he did.”
“Oh. Good.” I eye my bed, not sure I like the idea of sleeping in this room. I cross the space and place my duffel bags on top of my new bed. It’s not until I start unpacking that Ariah speaks up again.
“Lucian Crowe got what he deserved,” she says, tearing open a pack of candy. “I do feel sorry for her brother. Have you met him yet? Elijah? Like, insanely hot future alpha?”
I drop my hairbrush. “Luca?” The color drains from my face. The fact that it is Elijah’s sister makes it somehow even worse. I would never have guessed he has lost someone so close to him, based on how warm and inviting he is toward me.
“Not sure who that is, but he went by the name Lucian. They stripped him of his power and sent him to Nightfall Prison. Exactly where he belongs. Trust me, no one gets out of there.”
What are the chances of there being two boys with that name? “This Lucian, what did he look like?”
“Also super hot. Such a waste,” Ariah expels a heavy breath, then holds up a finger. “Wait, I have a picture of the two of them somewhere.”
Ariah ducks her head into our shared closet and withdraws a large pink photo album, flipping it open. “Give me a—ah! Here it is. See?”
I move to stand beside her. The second my eyes settle on the picture, my riotous heart climbs up into my throat.
- Writer
