by JJ King
My stomach churned at the thought of having to choose, so I shut it down but couldn’t stop the shiver of anticipation that raced up my spine.
♀♀♀
I ended the school week with exactly the same thing I did every other night, watching Netflix, searching YouTube for tutorials on how to do my makeup and hair, since that wasn’t something I’d learned in the mountain, and wasting half my life on TikTok. I heard other students in my dorm come and go, with groups of friends, laughing and having fun, but I wasn’t ready for that yet. Like any diet I’d ever heard of, I had plans to start on Monday.
A loud yawn ripped through me, causing a cascade of stretches and muscle spasms that had me whimpering and pulling my headphones off so I could roll off the bed and shake off the stiffness from my hours of binge watching.
A burst of laughter and music just outside my door drew my attention. The volume of music and laughter in the dorm had steadily risen until I’d dug out my headphones to block it out.
Or you put them on to lock yourself in because it’s familiar and safe. Do you really want to stay locked in a room your entire life, Lexi? Dr. Bennett’s voice was as clear as a bell in my head.
I made a face, sighed, then checked the time. It was just after midnight and the party was still building, or so it seemed by the chaos in the hallway. There was nothing stopping me from changing out of my pajamas and slipping out for a while.
Nothing but that sense of dread that held me captive as much as Raphael ever had.
Spite pushed me to strip out of the sloth covered onesie and pull on a dress decorated in pale pink roses on a background of black. I pulled my hair out of the messy bun I always wore in private and brushed out my waves, then chewed my lip as I stared at my reflection.
“You got this,” I whispered in a hoarse voice that revealed my nerves and the fact that I hadn’t spoken a word out loud for at least six hours.
Taking a deep breath, I slipped on a pair of black flip flops, slipped my phone and debit card into one of the cleverly hidden pockets, and opened my door to a full on rager.
A few people noticed my door opening and glanced at me in shock. They probably thought the room was uninhabited or that a reclusive troll lived there. The arch of eyebrow and low whistle of a guy who lived down the hall made me almost turn on my heel and slam the door.
Resisting the urge to run, I answered his drunken, “Hey!” with a casual smile and nod.
“Hey,” I murmured, not loud enough to be heard above the music.
Pressure began to build in my chest as soon as I closed and locked my room. I squeezed my eyes shut and turned from the doorway, knowing I wouldn’t last long out here if I stayed so close to my escape.
I skirted around people holding drinks, waving their arms wildly as they told stories that incited their friends to crack up, and made my way to the end of the hallway where a door and stairwell promised a reprieve from the volume.
Except, the stairwell was also full of people, some of whom were busy making out without a scrap of embarrassment that they were in public. My cheeks flushed with heat that didn’t subside until I reached the bottom floor and slipped outside into the cool night air.
This counts, right? I asked my inner shrink.
I was out of my room, surrounded by people, and breathing fresh air.
Baby steps, I told myself. It was okay to set boundaries and that party, those people all crowded together so tightly they would probably all end up with mono, just wasn’t my scene. I could be social, or incrementally more social, out here, too.
There were still people out here, on the lawn, on benches, strolling arm in arm with people of the opposite or same sex, but I could breathe out here, and think.
It was nice, being outside beneath the stars and moon. I played eenie meenie miney mo in my head and turned right towards the gardens and the canteen that stayed open twenty-four-seven to keep little wolves from starving to death in the middle of the night.
My stomach rumbled at the thought of fries. It was late but who cared. I was at university; I could eat fries after midnight if I wanted to.
Feeling like a complete rebel, I set off towards the canteen, trying to decide if I would have my fries with ketchup, vinegar, or cheese curds and gravy.
I went with ketchup and picked at the fries as I people watched and meandered closer to the gardens. Occasionally a professor or guard would amble by, but it was mostly students heading from one place to another, one party to another. They were so unlike me, so normal and untarnished by trauma that it made me feel even more alone.
Don’t judge a book by its cover.
I took the nearest path to the center of the gardens, where benches, picnic tables, and lounges made for relaxing seating. Everyone dealt with trauma in their own way. Just because I’d turned into a recluse who was inappropriately attracted to two guys at once—
“Hey!” a guy who was obviously drunk enough to have forgotten volume control appeared in the path ahead of me, followed by three of his buddies.
I mumbled, “Hey. Excuse me,” and swerved to avoid running into them.
“What’s wrong, pretty girl?” the guy called out, adding a poorly performed wolf whistle that hurt my ears. “What’s your name?”
Unease skittered up my spine, erasing my interest in the fries I held. I swallowed and inhaled deeply, using calm, even breaths to stem the wave of panic that was growing steadily in my gut. We were in the middle of campus with people all around. One scream and someone would come running.
I smiled, terrified of turning their interest into annoyance or worse, and said, “My friends are waiting for me.”
Heart beating too fast, I picked up my pace and aimed for one of the paths out of the garden.
A hand wrapped around my wrist and pulled me back.
Chapter 5
My throat went dry as bone and my breath came in fast, shallow gasps. I pulled my hand free and cradled it across my chest as I backed away, letting my fries drop to the ground at my feet.
“What’s your name?”
“Do you want to party with us?”
“What dorm do you live in?”
The questions rained down on me like blows, too fast to answer or fully absorb. I cringed away from them, my mind spinning back, back to another time, another set of questions.
Do you want to stay in the dark, little girl?
Do you know how stupid you are?
You’re worthless, less than worthless. Do you know that?
I began to shrink into myself, curling my shoulders forward to survive the beating that had always come with such questions. Hot tears brimmed in my eyes but didn’t fall. I’d learned long ago that they only made the punishments worse. It was better to swallow the tears and screams and endure so your sisters weren’t punished for your disobedience.
Sisters? I blinked as the thought echoed through my mind. My sisters weren’t here, I remembered, though it was hard to think through the rush of blood in my ears. They weren’t in trouble. I was alone and free of the mountain.
There was no need to take the torment anymore.
I forced myself to inhale deeper, to let the oxygen release the knots that had seized my body and reduced me to a shell of what I’d fought to become. I wasn’t the same girl that had been freed. I wasn’t weak and I wasn’t willing to let anyone, let alone a couple of drunk guys, make me feel weak.
“That’s enough,” I said, projecting my voice loud enough to break through the slew of questions they still lobbed at me. When they kept talking over me, I raised my voice louder and shouted, “Stop!
They stared at me in surprise.
“What? We were only asking you questions,” one of the friends said. “No need to freak out.”
I glared at him. “Are you serious? Didn’t you see me cringing away from you?”
His eyes shifted with guilt.
“Didn’t you see the fear in my eyes?” I directed that question at one of the others who glanced awa
y, the bravado melting from his stance.
“We didn’t mean anything by it,” the first drunk guy said, shrugging off my questions. “It’s not like we were going to hurt you.”
Anger flowed through me like a torrent, dispersing any remaining fear and intimidation. I pictured any of my sisters in this situation, cornered and harassed, terrified and haunted. It pushed me forward to stand toe to toe with the only guy who didn’t seem to get it.
“You laid your hand on me, pulled me back, then surrounded me as I cowered in fear.” The words came out as flat and cold as ice, biting into him. It stung my pride to admit that I’d been afraid, but they’d already known it. We were wolves. The air was thick with the emotion. “You knew and didn’t stop, none of you did.”
His friends shifted uncomfortably while he held my gaze, unflinching, challenging.
My hands balled into fists at my sides and began to vibrate. It looked like the self-defense classes I’d taken would finally come in handy.
I stiffened as someone stepped up from behind me and chided myself for leaving my back open. I knew better than that.
Before I could turn, a deep voice that rumbled through me like cool water on a hot day said, “I think she’s made herself perfectly clear, Anderson.”
Relief flooded my tensed muscles. I recognized that voice. I’d heard it in my dreams.
I looked over my shoulder to see Lucian standing there, shoulders stiff, intent gaze locked on the idiot whose name was apparently Anderson.
I wanted to melt into his arms, to let him take over this confrontation. It would be so much easier to hide behind his strength.
But I didn’t want to shrink back and hide behind anyone, anymore. I’d lived my entire life in fear, of bigger and badder people than this jerk. I squared my shoulders and narrowed my eyes.
One of the others glanced at Lucian.
“Andy, man. Let’s just go.” He started to leave then stopped, turned, and looked at me and mumbled, “I’m really sorry.”
The other two added their apologies quickly, making me think I might not have gotten them if a big strong guy hadn’t shown up to have my back. That pissed me off, but I’d seen true guilt in their eyes, seen the discomfort at realizing how they’d made me feel, and I knew they weren’t bad guys. I was intimately acquainted with bad guys and knew the difference.
Anderson, however, was a different story.
He was still filled with alcohol driven bravado, fueled with righteous anger that I, a female, hadn’t been receptive to his particular brand of flattery. He saw nothing wrong with his actions.
I saw the darkness beneath his glossy frat boy surface.
So did Lucian. His arm hung close to mine, so close I could feel the muscles in his forearm bunching and releasing, shaking in an effort to remain still, to not jump this asshole.
“Whatever,” Anderson said with a sneer. “Leave it to a chick to overreact.”
He shifted to go with his friends.
I plowed my fist into his nose, unleashing a spray of blood that spattered Anderson’s face like a crime scene. He howled and grabbed his face as more blood poured onto his polo shirt.
“You bitch!” he screamed in a muffled voice. “You broke my nose!”
“You deserved it,” Lucian said, low and barely controlled. “Now get the fuck out of here, you predatory ass wipe.”
Anderson’s eyes went wide with fear. His nostrils flared as he inhaled, recognizing fury and violence, then he raced after his friends, cursing and muttering threats that bounced off the shell of shock that had left me cold.
“Here. Sit down,” Lucian said softly, touching the small of my back and steering me to a bench nearby. He pulled a stack of napkins out of his pocket and began wiping the blood off my knuckles. “That was a killer jab, by the way.”
I blinked. “What?”
“That punch. It was perfectly executed. Where did you learn to fight?” He dabbed at the abrasions on my knuckles, then lifted my hand and blew softly on the raw skin. “This will heal in no time.”
His breath on my skin was like the heat of the sun on my face on a perfect summer day. I stared at where his fingers encircled my hand and marveled that his touch chased away the memory of Anderson’s grasp. I lifted my head and met his intense gaze.
“Sorry, I—” he began, and dropped my hand.
“No.” I reached out before I could think it through.
I held his hand, enjoying the warmth that spread from that simple touch to suffuse my entire body. My mind buzzed with emotions and thoughts that kept circling back to the difference between him and the males who’d been responsible for my incarceration.
“You didn’t fight him,” I said quietly, chewing over the thought.
“Hmmm?” Lucian murmured. His thumb moved slow circles over my skin, lighting fires deep in my core that made thinking hard.
I stared down at his hands. They were big and calloused at the tips and at the bottom of his fingers, the hands of someone who’d never been pampered, who played guitar, and who would never use his strength to harm.
“Why didn’t you punch him?”
The men I’d known responded with violence first, logic after.
Lucian glanced up from our entwined hands. “You looked like you had it under control.”
“But you wanted to. I could feel it,” I insisted, wanting to figure it out, figure him out.
He exhaled with slow deliberation and nodded. “I wanted to, more than I can say but it wasn’t my fight, Lexi. The way you looked that first day we met—” He broke off and shook his head. “Sometimes we need to fight our own battles to feel strong again.”
I studied him, so tall and wide he made me feel positively delicate despite my height. There was so much more to him than the hottie I’d met outside my class. Those glimpses I’d gotten, of grief, of understanding, of acceptance. There were deep wounds beneath those dark eyes. Maybe that was why being with him made me feel seen, and more than a little fluttery.
“I can go with you to report him, if you want,” Lucian said, still stroking his thumb over my hand.
I started to say no, to refuse this next step because of the angry churning that resulted at the mere thought of having to face the Headmaster and go over how Anderson and his friends had acted. But I stopped myself and thought about it.
The three who’d apologized, who’d shown guilt and embarrassment for their actions, they were redeemable. Anderson, though…
“I really appreciate the offer,” I said, sincerely. “But I think that’s one more fight that belongs to me. Thank you for having my back, though.”
I laid my free hand over his and squeezed lightly.
His grin was lopsided and bright, a flash of teeth that disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
“Anytime,” he said, and, for some reason, I believed him.
“Old Ones, Janie!” a tipsy blonde shouted in a high pitch squeal. “Where are you going?”
She staggered onto the path nearby, on the heels of a brunette I could only assume was Janie and began to giggle.
“Sorry! Didn’t mean to interrupt anything.” She narrowed her eyes and then a wide smile spread across her beautiful face. “Oh, hey, Lucian! Janie, look, it’s Lucian.”
“I have eyes, Rachelle,” Janie said. “Hey. We’re walking off too much vodka.”
Lucian nodded and said something to them about being careful while I pulled my hand free and tried to disappear into the shadows. Without looking, he reached back, found my hand again, and slipped his fingers through mine.
Endless tingles and romantic dreams burst to life at that easy embrace.
Then the giggling blonde slipped and went down in a pile of long legs and high heels with a sharp cry that wasn’t affected. Lucian pushed to his feet, pulling me up with him.
“Shit, Rachelle,” Janie shouted, rushing to her side. “Are you alright?”
Rachelle’s pained sobs and blanched face, plus the strange angle of her foot a
nd ankle revealed a problem.
“I think I broke my ankle.” She sniffed and stared down at her strappy silver stilettos.
“I told you you’d break your ankle in those shoes,” Janie chided softly, smoothing the hair back from her friend’s face. “It looks pretty bad. We should get you to the infirmary and talk to a doctor before you try shifting.”
Lucian’s hand slipped from mine, as he stepped forward and said, “Don’t try to stand, Rachelle. I’ll carry you.”
My heart constricted.
As effortlessly as breathing, he scooped Rachelle up into his arms and waited while Janie undid the strap on the offending shoe and grabbed the purse Rachelle had dropped.
Lucian turned back to me with the broken blonde tucked into his arms and caught my gaze. His mouth opened and closed twice as if he weren’t sure what to say.
“I’ll see you around,” I said, wishing I’d had the foresight to get his cell phone number or give him mine. We’d just gotten to the good part, I thought, already missing the sizzle of his skin touching mine.
He swallowed and murmured, “I’ll find you,” then turned to follow Janie out of the garden in the direction of the infirmary.
From another mouth, it could have easily been a threat, but from Lucian’s mouth…
I couldn’t wait.
Chapter 6
Saturday dawned gorgeous and warm after a night of heated dreams and multiple releases that didn’t quite do the job.
Students hustled across the lawn in groups, laden with large tote bags filled with towels and snacks for their trip to the lake that was located a few miles outside the main gates of campus. It was a hot spot, the only cool place to hang out on the weekends, or so I’d overheard.
Since I was neither cool nor part of a social group, I slipped from my dorm room and jogged along the paths to the edge of campus and the trail that wound through a wooded glade inside our walls. Beneath the hot summer sun, my muscles warmed and stretched easily, then begged for more.