I try on more dresses than I care to count.I thought prom dress shopping with Wilma and Bibah was torture? Mila’s idea of a makeover is basically hell. Two maids have been fussing over my hair for an hour now, trying to shape my red tendrils into a hairstyle that suited Mila’s taste. I’m pretty sure I’ve gotten heat damage from the amount of times a curling iron has passed through my hair. My lungs feel like they’re congested with hairspray.Mila holds up a sparkly blue dress with a corset bodice. “Perfect.” She mutters to herself, beaming, pleased.It’s not my color, but I’m not about to argue right now. I’ll willingly wear a potato sack of her choice if it means she’ll stop making me try on more dresses. It’s more workout than I’ve had since fighting Lucien and his men.A stray curl falls over my eyes, and I huff it away with a breath.It falls right back.I sigh, resigned.It would be rude and discourteous to decline the invitation to the pack dinner, and that’s the only reason ke
“Uh, sorry to interrupt your display of authority, oh mighty one-eyed alpha, but you see that look on my sister’s face? It means she’s either gonna throw a mean comment or her fists.”Luke Ravenstone raises a singular, dark, military straight eyebrow. His gaze travels to my fists, and sure enough, he finds them clenched. A mild threat, although I’m pretty sure there’s nothing in the world this man can feel threatened about. His eye darts behind me, straight to Wilma, still snuggled in the bed.“She doesn’t like being told what to do.” My sister adds, and I almost crack a smile.Luke tugs at the glove on his right hand; the only tell-tale sign of discomfort I can decipher from him. “And I don’t like being disobeyed.” He counters, his frown deepening although I can tell that his annoyance is being replaced by something else; curiosity.Maybe even amusement.“Ha! You should tell that to your tie.” Wilma says, and from my peripheral vision, I see her point to it. “It’s crooked.”It’s not.
What a mess.I realize I don’t know where William’s room is when I exit the dining hall to find him. And these sparkly heels are fucking uncomfortable. They don’t even fit well.I kick off the heels and pick them up.Sighing, I begin to roam the hallways of the private quarters. It’s like a maze; confusing, large, frustrating, and I don’t stumble into anybody I can ask for directions. Although I think that’s probably a good thing. I don’t want to have to talk to any strangers right now. For safety measures, I turn another corner and hope no one followed me out of the dining hall.I try my best to think of it logically; mine and Wilma’s room are upstairs on the second floor. Shouldn’t his be somewhere around there? But our rooms are guest rooms. There’s a third floor above, but I have no idea where it leads to. I huff out a breath. Mila left the private quarters out on the tour.Mila…I wonder if she’ll still be as hospitable as she had been before, now that her husband has all but ann
Silence answers me.Is he asleep in there? Or is he even in there at all? I knock again, listening closer for any sound. Nothing. I glance at Rosa questioningly, and she gives me a nod. I take a deep breath before opening the door.It’s empty.William Ravenstone is not in here.I walk in, and a shiver wrecks through my body. It’s so cold in here, because the air conditioner has been left on full blast and all the two windows in the room are open, letting in the chilly night air.I look around the space. It’s so different from his room back in the Acadia Academy dorms. First off, it’s gigantic, furnished with a king sized bed, a walk-in wardrobe, a workspace, a bookshelf on the far wall, and a chandelier. But it lacks… life. There are no chessboards, or plants, or a cat named after a chess prodigy, or sketches on the desk. The whole room could’ve simply been copied from a home magazine and pasted in real life.I turn to Rosa, and she’s already looking at me. I swallow the small sense o
“Bella!”I groan and turn away from the voice, trying to sink deeper into sleep. I’m underneath the embrace of clouds, floating through my dreams, but the voice comes again, shaking me out of my slumber.I peel my eyes open and find my sister’s panicked face, looking down on me. Something about the way her eyes are wide and seem to be in shock makes me bolt upright in bed.Wait, bed?I don’t remember when I got back to my room last night. All I can remember is the rooftop, with William’s head on my lap and staring at the stars. I must’ve fallen asleep there, right after he had. I’m still in the blue dinner dress, which explains why my body feels like it’s bound.“Bella!” Wilma calls again, shaking my shoulders.I blink back at her, fully awake now. Her expression makes a shot of panic flash through me like electricity. My heart climbs up to my throat. I don’t want to think of what could get Wilma shaken like this, but the worst case scenario comes to my mind. Mom. “What is it?” I dema
Sprinting to my mom’s hospital room is the fastest I have ran in my entire life, in flip flips and a tight dinner dress.I burst through the doors and careen to a halt, relief flooding through me in comforting waves. I never thought hearing these damned beeping machines would be reassuring, but they are. Mom is in bed, still unconscious, still stuck in a limbo between sleep and death. And Lexie’s braids are still intact; two ropes on either sides of her face.Wilma passes me and reaches mom, pressing her fingers to the pulse on her neck as if to make sure everything is okay, and then double-checking the machines. She sighs in relief, her shoulders slumping as she sinks into the chair near the bed, and closes her eyes.Mom is okay.Well, not exactly okay, but nothing bad has happened to her overnight. Not like Lexie. For now.The door behind me creaks open and I whir around on my feet, ready to jump into action and very much on my guard, but the creased face of the doctor looks back at
“All of this and you didn’t even think to tell me?” Bibah huffs through the phone. I hear something fall in the background, and she huffs again, feet shuffling.“I’m telling you now.” I point out.“Yeah, after someone gets unalived!” She whispered harshly, keeping her voice low because her siblings are nosy. She’d gone straight home to Sohdan City after graduation. “Does William know it’s not suicide?”I sigh and recline back on the pillow propped up on my bed. “No, I didn’t tell him.” I admit, glancing at the unresponsive face of my mom. Wilma had gone to her room to take a shower and change out of her blood soaked clothes.I’ve done the same, but it still feels as if I have blood drying on my skin and on the oversized white cotton tee and black maxi skirt I’m wearing.“Well you should. And you should get out of there, ASAP.” Bibah chides, the worry in her tone palpable. “Fauza is getting the flight tickets online as we speak. There are no outbound flights from South Lake City to Soh
My eyes pop out of their sockets.She did not just do that. But she did. She really did. Mila just slapped Luke Ravenstone, her mate, across the cheek. The sound bounces off the cold countertops, almost blasphemous in its echo. The short silence after is even more tensed. Her eyes widen with realization of what she has done. And then she bursts out in tears, clutches his shirt and sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She repeats over and over again.I wait for it.But, no.The world doesn’t end.Luke Ravenstone doesn’t turn into a hulk and herald in the apocalypse. No, he rubs Mila’s back, soothing her in the softest voice that could come out of his vocal cords. “It’s okay, you’re just drunk, you’re okay.”I sit back down and stare; dumbfounded.So he’s capable of feeling anything other than disgust and cold rage? Huh.Mila calms enough to straighten, although she’s still tipsy on her feet. She looks at his face, takes in a sharp breath, and bursts out crying for the umpteenth tim