Chapter 9
Nine
Blair
“And here we go again.”
Daphne’s groggy voice dragged me out of my sleep.
I blinked, my eyes sluggishly adjusting to the morning light, as last night came crashing back into my head like a true crime documentary I’d never added to my watch list.
Enzo and his masked cult buddy dragged me through the woods, made me watch Enzo torture Jett, and then dumped me in the forest like discarded trash. I was barefoot, freezing, and my hand throbbed.
By the time I staggered back into the main building, my legs were shaking so badly that I could barely climb the steps. Headmaster Arisono stood in the entrance hall when I finally stumbled through the doors.
She looked at my muddy feet in disgust and said three words. “Strike one, Blair.” She turned and walked away without asking me if I was okay or needed help.
I ran upstairs to the dorms and burst into my room to find Daphne sitting on her bed, waiting for me. She pulled me into a hug, helped me clean the dirt and blood from my skin, wrapped my hand, and we went to bed without talking about what had happened.
She’d already known.
So had Arisono, which was why she hadn’t asked if I needed help after coming back looking like I’d spent the night grave digging.
They had known Enzo was responsible.
I yawned, shifting under my comforter, and felt about as well rested as Enzo was sane.
The bitter cold nipped at my skin as goose bumps rose along my arms.
Something felt … off.
My bed nook wasn’t as dark as it had been yesterday.
Light spilled through the space in jagged streaks.
Groaning, I pushed myself upright, still foggy with sleep. Every muscle in my body hurt as I rested my elbow against my pillow.
Time suddenly seemed to slow when I saw what’d brought on Daphne’s comment.
I swallowed, my throat dry, as I stared at the curtain hanging in front of my nook.
The fabric was sliced into ribbons. Long, uneven strips dangled from the rod like an animal had tried to claw its way through during the night.
Scraps of the shredded curtain littered my mattress and spilled across the rug.
My limbs still ached as I pushed through the torn fabric and climbed out of my nook.
Daphne was upright on her bed, snuggled into her pink comforter. She motioned toward the destroyed room. “Hurricane Enzo has made landfall.”
I gaped at the destruction around me, realizing the curtains were just Enzo’s warm-up. Every drawer in my dresser was open, its contents dumped across the floor like someone had violently searched them. My clothes were scattered everywhere. Half the items in my closet were missing.
My MacBook was gone from my desk.
Items were broken on the floor.
But just my things. Nothing on Daphne’s side was touched.
I stood slowly, staring in disbelief between the wreckage, then at Daphne. “Did he do this while we were asleep?”
She nibbled on her lip and nodded.
“No way.” I shook my head hard. My temples throbbed as I replayed the night in my mind. “I listened for every sound last night.”
And I’d heard them all.
Our neighbors’ voices floating through the wall. The creaks of the old building. The wisp of the wind brushing against my window. Even an owl hooting somewhere outside.
But I hadn’t heard footsteps, or drawers pulled open, or someone shredding my curtains.
Daphne sleepily pushed her tangled hair away from her face. “You’d be amazed at what Enzo can do without making a sound. If I ever get diagnosed with a terminal illness, I’m spending my last few days kicking him in the balls. Maybe I’ll just rip them clean off. I’d be doing a public service.”
I laughed and slid off my bed. The floor was freezing against my feet as I shuffled to hers. She scooted over to make room, and I dropped down beside her, pulling the comforter over my legs.
“I’m texting Seraphina.” She grabbed her phone from the shelf behind her. Her drowsy eyes studied her phone, and she gasped. “Holy fucking shit.” She smacked a hand over her mouth.
“What?” I asked in a scratchy voice.
She turned her screen toward me. “Jett jumped out of the infirmary window last night.”
Messages and notifications crowded her phone screen, so many that I couldn’t focus on a single one.
Jett jumped, my ass.
He was tossed, courtesy of the Night Sons.
Daphne’s shock about Jett’s death was short-lived as she started typing, reading her text out loud. “Your brother is a deranged lunatic who trashed my room.” After hitting Send, she tossed the phone aside and collapsed on her back with a long, dramatic sigh.
My body was still sore when I flopped down beside her, staring up at the ceiling.
“Is Seraphina Enzo’s sister?” I asked.
“She is.”
“Poor thing.”
She scoffed. “Lucky thing. Being Enzo’s sister means protection. Seraphina will never be a Fawn.”
I jerked upright, as if suddenly brought to life.
Daphne did the same, scooting to the corner of her bed and tucking her legs beneath her.
“Can you tell me about this Fawn thing?” I asked.
I wasn’t sure if she’d answer. Everyone around her was so secretive.
“You’re about to find out anyway, so screw it,” she said, as though she’d finally tired of protecting the Night Sons’ secrets.
“If Enzo chooses you as his Fawn, which after …” She gestured toward his mess.
“I’m almost positive he will.” Sympathy passed over her features.
“He’ll make your life a living hell, Blair. ”
She scooted closer and lowered her voice, as if Enzo were listening somewhere. “If there’s any chance your parents will let you drop out, leave now.”
My pulse roared as I squeezed my eyes shut. I was stuck here. My stepfather wouldn’t allow me to drop out. And I had better odds of my mother ignoring my calls than answering them.
I buried my hands in my hair, bowing my head, remembering I didn’t even have a phone. I must’ve lost it in the woods, or Enzo had stolen it while manhandling me.
Asking for a replacement would only add to my problems. I was already at the top of my stepfather’s shit list, and it would hand my mother another excuse to unleash her favorite punishment—the silent treatment.
Last time, she stretched it to eight months straight.
I wouldn’t be surprised if she tried to beat her record next time.
Enzo’s words from last night clawed their way back into my head. “I’ll force you to bathe in their blood before I drown you in it.”
My insides went tight. I believed every word.
“I don’t get it,” I muttered. “Why do families send their daughters here, knowing this can happen?”
Daphne lifted a shoulder in a tired shrug. “Most people have no idea the Night Sons or Fawns even exist. To them, Saint Vale is just prestige and pedigree, a secure place where their nepo babies can screw up without the world watching.”
“What about the ones who do know?”
“They’re usually former Sons or former Fawns. And in those cases, the parents hope their daughters get chosen.”
“What?” I shrieked. “They want this to happen?”
“Only the powerful become Sons. And sometimes those Sons end up marrying their Fawns. For certain families, being chosen can be a great opportunity … or it can be hell. With Enzo, it’s always hell.
” She rubbed her arms as her gaze traveled to the window behind my bed.
“He’s had two other Fawns. Clarissa last year.
And the girl before her ended up institutionalized. ”
Oh great. So death or an insane asylum.
“Have you ever been a Fawn?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I like to believe I’m safe, but nothing is guaranteed.”
“Safe?” I leaned forward. “How?” And how the hell do I get on that list?
“I’m friends with most of the Havens.”
I blinked at her. “The … who?”
“The Havens. Every Son can mark a girl as off-limits. Just one. They usually pick a sister or someone in their family. Those girls are called Havens. I’m friends with most of them and considered part of their group. If a Son were to choose me, it’d piss off their Haven. They don’t want that drama.”
I stared at her, then at the shredded curtain, then at my desk, where my MacBook once had been. “What the hell did I get myself into?”
“The underbelly of the rich and powerful,” she said gently, climbing over me to hop off the bed. She squeezed my foot in a small, pitying gesture. “Saint Vale was built on secrets. I’m sure your parents didn’t know this could happen.”
“Why would Enzo choose me?”
She shoved her feet into her slippers and shrugged. “No one understands Enzo. His mind’s warped, and his heart is dead. His Fawns have been different every year. There’s no pattern. He has no preference. I heard that he wasn’t taking a Fawn this year, but I guess he saw you and changed his mind.”
What the hell did I do to catch his attention?
Whatever it was, I knew one thing for sure: I hadn’t dragged myself through life, fighting to survive, only to kneel to Enzo Marchetti.
If he thought I’d submit, he was wrong.
I’d fight back.
My throat felt raw when I cleared it. Probably leftover damage from my screaming last night.
“They tortured Jett in front of me,” I revealed.
Daphne rolled her eyes, shocking me with her lack of sympathy.
Maybe she was more like the Sons than she pretended.
“Jett was a manipulative asshole,” she said. “No one here liked him. I hated him.”
And Enzo isn’t worse? He and his red-masked friend?
“Why?” I twisted a loose thread on her pillowcase. “He warned me about Enzo, and that’s what he got for it. He was only trying to help.”
Daphne sighed like I’d disappointed her. “Oh, sweet, naive Blair. If you’re going to be a Fawn, we need to make you smarter.”
I frowned, taking her words as an insult.
I wasn’t naive. I’d witnessed things just as ugly as what they had done to Jett.
Daphne gave my foot another squeeze. “Trust me. Jett wasn’t helping you. He was being petty. Don’t you dare blame his little window dive on yourself.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Then why—”