64. Sable
SABLE
After two hours of going through all the boxes, I’m almost convinced I dreamed about Mom.
I’m not ready to give up just yet, but I am starting to worry about what’s taking Soren so long.
He knew where I was off to, and he’ll be back, I tell myself as I pick up another paper.
I groan my frustration when this one is another dead end.
Mom’s not anywhere in the articles I scan.
The newspaper is nothing but a shitty gossip rag designed to humiliate some students and prop up others.
Why am I even here?
The question runs through my mind with every useless newspaper.
I open yet another box, tossing the lid to the side, and promise myself it’s the last one I will read.
A familiar name catches my attention. Right below a picture of two very handsome and identical men are the names Emerson and Alexander Rook.
Twins run in their family? The similarities between the twins I know are striking—beautiful features, dark and hard eyes, and wide shoulders.
Yet the men in the picture staring at me are smiling too much to be confused for Soren and Orion.
In the background is the only picture I've found that could possibly be my mother. It’s too blurry to be certain if it’s her or another blonde, but the shapes of the face seem right.
I bring the paper closer, almost touching it to my nose, but there’s no way for me to be sure it’s actually her.
It could be any other blond girl. My hands shake anyway, this is something. Isn’t it?
“Sable, finally,” a familiar voice says, and fear shakes me to my core. My eyes shoot up instantly, the last time someone caught me in here is still too fresh in my mind, but it’s not Arabella and her gang of mean girls, just Cillian.
“Hi.” My voice is low, and my cheeks are red.
I don’t have anything to be embarrassed about, but I wouldn’t want to explain to anyone at Bellthorn why I’m digging through old things either.
The last time I saw Cillian this close was when Lex decided to undress me for him.
I see him from a distance often enough, but he’s kept his distance since then.
Can’t say I blame him for never stopping to talk.
I almost want to apologize, but I swallow the words.
I’m not responsible for Lex’s actions, even the ones that make me come.
“I was looking for you. Lex asked me to get you.”
I stand right away and move toward Cillian. “Why? I’m with Soren today. What’s happening?”
“I have no idea, but it did seem urgent…” He says just enough to set off every panic warning I have. Everyone I’ve ever loved dies or turns on me, and didn’t the guys just change everything? Is the universe angry with me or something?
He gives me a reassuring smile. “You know the guys. They overreact. Don’t panic just yet.”
I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself, but my father’s dying face flashes behind my eyes. Why am I suddenly so concerned for them? What’s the worst that can happen at Bellthorn? I follow Cillian out of the room and in the opposite direction from the professor’s office.
“Where’s Lex?” I ask, pointing toward his turret workshop.
He looks over his shoulder and shakes his head. “He’s down by the administrative offices. Maybe there was a problem.”
My heart races. Just last night, we were discussing my role as the Offering and how we would need to keep things between us secret, but what if they have already found out and are already sending someone to replace me?
I frown as I try to fight off tears at the thought.
When we turn at the west wing, where everyone else’s dorms are, my brow furrows.
I’ve never come this way before, but as far as I know, this is not the fastest way to the offices.
People start to line the halls, and all of them watch me as I pass.
There’s laughter, a pool table, and way less weird Gothic clothes on this side of Bellthorn.
It almost looks like a normal university, a side that I’ve never had the pleasure of seeing.
Will I stay here next year when the guys have a new Offering?
I don’t like the way my insides almost cave, an ugly feeling choking.
“Are you okay?” Cillian asks.
“Yes, of course.” I brush the thoughts off.
It’s stupid to think about the future when we’re not quite halfway through the year. My hand automatically goes to the leash I don’t wear anymore, and I almost miss it. I roll my eyes at the feeling and push it down. No. I won’t be the girl who misses being leashed.
“So Sable. Besides the drama of it all, are you enjoying Bellthorn?” Cillian asks as we go down the hall.
The question is so funny that I smile and turn to look at him.
Should the Offering enjoy herself? Has anyone ever cared about that before?
But the words never make it past my lips.
The smile falls, and sharp pain stabs my heart.
I almost stumble as I pull to a stop outside of a cracked door.
It’s only open wide enough to see a flash, but I step closer because I can’t believe what I’m seeing.
Heart in my throat, I wonder if I’m insane and seeing things after spending two hours looking at grainy pictures at the journalism department.
“Soren?” I say.
His name is another stab, especially when he looks up at me from the bed.
Eyes half-mast, shirt completely open, palms flat on the bed.
Arabella rides him, knees spread, ass bouncing.
Her long black nails scrape his chest, leaving ugly red marks behind.
He looks lost in desire, drunk maybe, even more dazed than he did last night when we were all together for the very first time.
He was just inside me, and it breaks me.
I step back, and my sense of time and space returns.
Voices surround me. Arabella looks over her shoulder with a satisfied smirk.
His eyes look bloodshot, but they take me in, and fear flashes when he calls my name, “Sable.”
I step back once again.
“Sable, we are going this way,” Cillian says, trying to steer me in the right direction, but I can’t follow anymore. I forgot he was still here.
My heart breaks for real this time, not the mock of it I felt last night.
It’s shattered into a thousand pieces. Even as I break, a voice inside my head laughs at my innocence.
Did I really think an orgy was enough to change things between us?
The school whore. I’m a joke. It shouldn’t hurt me to see him back with her, but since it does, I’m not staying another minute.
I rush away from the dorms as the tears fall down my cheeks.
I won’t let them see me cry. Nothing’s more pathetic than a crying whore.
I’m breaking in so many pieces it’s hard to breathe.
Why did it have to be her? The woman who played with my PTSD, the one who held my head down in the bucket.
How could he do this with her after that?
I end up at the main hall, my eyes darting in every direction, deciding where I’m going from here.
I could go to Parker and tell him what I’ve just seen.
Maybe he and Orion can just kill her this time, but while it’s tempting, I don’t seek any of them out.
I know in my bones the only person I can trust is myself.
Parker followed me for years, and I was so dickmatized I didn’t even ask him why.
What is wrong with me? I was so concerned about being strong enough to survive that I forgot I had to be smart too.
I can’t trust any of them. Their words mean nothing, their kisses even less.
All that matters to them is their families and the values they uphold.
I’m a piece of meat to them, and they aren’t going to be on my side against Soren.
And I can never look at Soren’s face again, even if Orion is the one wearing it.
I feel so sick I want to vomit when I end up at the front door. I’m rooted to the spot. Nowhere to run. Nowhere to go.
My eyes trace the front entrance and the two gargoyles at each side of the doors. Bellthorn’s blue tapestry hangs at the top, mocking me. It’s not like they are hiding where the front door is. It’s right there, and all I have to do is go.
And the time is now.