8. Aria
8
ARIA
B arring the door as best as I could with the old, broken wood, I swore under my breath. I knew the door wouldn’t stop Tristan for long, but hopefully, he’d decide it wasn’t worth the effort. I’d seen him eyeing that box, and I wasn’t stupid enough to be fooled by his distraction techniques.
He’d been fooled by mine, though.
I tried to forget about the way his ridiculously ripped body had felt beneath my palm. Warm skin and solid muscle, his blue eyes dark as he tracked my movements with his intense gaze, his erection tenting his joggers…
Fuck off out of my head, Tristan . Thankfully, I wasn’t one of those girls who went cockdumb every time they were faced with a hot guy, no matter how much of a wanker they actually were. Hence, my godbrother being on the other side of a heavy wooden door.
I stood, listening, but there was silence. Why wasn’t he trying to break the door down? It probably wouldn’t take much.
Another gust of wind whipped through the tower, and I dragged the thick blanket from the floor, wrapping it around my shoulders. Tristan’s hoodie had been so warm I almost regretted refusing to wear it. Almost.
I killed some time playing games on my phone until I was sure Tristan had given up and left, and then I returned my attention to the contents of the box.
The tarnished gold ring was heavy in my hand. I examined the crest, using my phone torch to make out the details. The design appeared to be a pair of scales, with something written in letters too small to make out.
Putting the ring aside for now, I pulled out the next item. It was either a blunt dagger or a letter opener, probably, silvery in colour, with an ornate handle.
What was this doing here?
There was a fountain pen and ink pot, the ink long dried out, ink stains still visible inside the box. Beneath the pen lay several sheets of blank paper, thick and crinkly with age. As I carefully removed the paper and pen, the final item in the box became visible.
A book. Bound in leather, with a ribbon tying it closed, and the symbol from the ring burned into the leather.Etched beneath the symbol were words I didn’t understand.
In nomine iustitiae, omnia iustificata .
Untying the ribbon, I opened the book, and my world turned upside down.
“What’s wrong?” Quinn eyed me with concern in her gaze. We were seated at the outdoor tables on the large patio area outside the school, where students often gathered for lunch on warm days.
“Nothing. I’ve just got a lot on my mind.” Things I couldn’t make sense of. Things I didn’t have the answer to.
She hummed, clearly disbelieving, but decided to drop it. “Did you hear that Tristan’s no longer the head boy? Will took his place, and Katy’s the new head girl.”
“What?” My eyes widened.
“Did I hear my name?”
I groaned, burying my head in my arms as Tristan sauntered over to us, accompanied by Roman, with Knox and Elena right behind them. Quinn laughed, patting my head, and I lifted it to glare at her.
She bit down on her lip, still smiling. “Sorry. You two are just—” Cutting herself off, she shook her head. “Never mind.”
Roman slid onto the bench next to her and went to pull her into him, but she shook her head, glancing over at me. I sighed.
“I’m fine. Promise.”
This time, she believed me, the furrow in her brow disappearing, and she turned to Roman, tilting her face for a kiss. The way he looked at her warmed something inside my cold heart…not that I wanted that for myself, but it was sweet, and I was happy for her.
“All alone over there, Aria? Want me to come and keep you company?”
I threw up my middle finger at Tristan, not even bothering with a reply to his mocking comment. A minute later, three more girls joined us, trailed by two of the lacrosse team, and that was enough for me.
Swiping the rest of my uneaten sandwich from my plate, I rose to my feet. “I left my textbook in my room,” I said, addressing Quinn and Elena. They exchanged glances, but before they could suggest coming with me, I shook my head. I grabbed my bag, swinging it over my shoulder.
I accidentally made eye contact with one of Tristan’s groupies, and before I could escape, her gaze dropped to my throat. “Hey, Aria. What’s that on your neck?”
Every. Single. Person at the table turned to look at me.
Fuck.
“Hmm. Looks a bit like a handprint. Who knew you’d enjoy a little light choking in your spare time?” Tristan smirked at me, and I gritted my teeth.
I would not let him get to me.
The only way I could avoid more scrutiny was to play it casual. I shrugged. “I guess I’m just full of surprises.”
“Who were you with last night? That wasn’t Tyrell, was it?”
“No, he ended up with Harriet.”
“Again? Why do they even bother splitting up? They always do this.”
Rolling my eyes, I left the table to their gossip.
My sandwich was gone by the time I made it back to my dorm room, and after dusting the crumbs from my hands, I studied my throat in the mirror. I hadn’t even thought about marks, but there they were—only a couple, and they were very faint but obviously noticeable enough for someone to comment on them. Fucking Tristan. Releasing my hair from its ponytail, I brushed it out, arranging it so it was falling over my shoulders. Hopefully, that would be enough to stop people from staring at my neck.
That done, I made my way over to my bed, crouching down to fish the book out of its hiding place in one of my shoeboxes.The first pages were lists of names. Some were crossed out, others had question marks next to them, and several were underlined.
It was the names that had stopped me in my tracks to begin with because there were three I recognised.
Tristan’s grandfather.
Knox’s grandfather.
And finally, my great-uncle, with a question mark next to his name.