Chapter 18 Elodie
ELODIE
“Ican help you with those,” Thorne states, arms outstretched, and I can imagine there’s a pointed look on his face, but I can’t bring myself to find out.
“I’d rather you didn’t,” I mumble, refusing to give up the stack of books nestled against my chest, my fingers wrapped around them precariously.
Institute Thirteen looms ahead, keeping my focus as Thorne remains at my side.
“You’re mad at me,” he declares, and I bite back a snicker as I feel my blood pressure warm up my neck and tingle my cheeks.
With a shake of my head, I sigh. “I’m not mad, I just can’t handle this.” I wiggle my pointer finger back and forth between us, unsure if he can see or not, but again, I refuse to check with my own eyes.
His mere presence is enough to send tingles up my spine.
I spent the entire time in the restricted section of the library trapped in a vortex of desire and frustration.
If he feels even remotely the same, he doesn’t show it, and that only pisses me off more.
Then, to make matters worse, the second he successfully got us out of the library altogether, Ocean’s cell phone chimed with a text from Nathaniel.
I thought he was okay before, average at best, but I hate him now. Despise even.
Of course he wanted to see her when I needed her as a buffer, but I wasn’t going to admit to that, so I did what every reasonable friend does and sacrificed myself for the greater good.
Besides, I thought walking the short distance back to Institute Thirteen with Thorne was going to be manageable, but apparently, I was wrong.
“What do you mean by this?” Thorne asks, yanking me from my thoughts. I catch sight of his finger sweeping back and forth between us in the same motion I just used.
He definitely saw me do it.
I need him to stop looking at me because that alone turns me into jelly at this stage.
Going against my own promise, I glare at him from the corner of my eye as I tighten my hold on the books in my hands.
“I already told you the answer to that,” I state, my tone clipped as I attempt to give him a withering look, but it feels pointless when he shrugs, offering me the quirkiest little lopsided grin I’ve ever seen. It’s almost like he’s not quite sure how to do it.
Why does that make my core clench tighter?
Dammit.
Silently, he hurries ahead a few steps to open the main door to the institute, and I reluctantly mumble my thanks as I head straight for the stairs. His eyes are on me the entire time, waiting for me to speak, but it’s not until we’re passing the second floor that I find the use of my tongue.
“Why did you come to the library?”
He shrugs as his eyebrows gather a little. “To bring you both coffees and pastries,” he states slowly, like he’s confused by the fact that I don’t already know the answer to my own question.
Ass.
Shaking my head, I tilt my face in his direction as I push further. “Why didn’t Rion come? Is he okay?” I watch for a flicker of a lie or uncertainty across his face, but nothing gives him away as he looks dead ahead.
“He’s fine.” I cock a brow even though he can’t see, but he must sense it or something because he adds, “He was watching television when I left.”
The second the soles of my institute-issued shoes hit the top floor, I pause, turning my entire body to face him, and he instantly matches my stance.
“I call bullshit,” I blurt, my irritation seeping through in my tone.
“I haven’t known Rion long, but it’s been long enough to know he wouldn’t have sent you for no reason.
Especially not some shit like watching television.
” My brain starts to spiral, but it’s not lost on me that my mind is instantly drawn to the fact that something’s wrong for him, not because of him.
My eyes widen as a thought comes to mind.
“Has Professor Drayker been an issue again?”
I’m ready to toss these ancient freaking books on my bed and cause a riot, but to my surprise, he shakes his head.
“There’s no issue,” he explains, scrubbing at his chin as he avoids my gaze, and I rear back.
“Then why—”
“He didn’t see the message,” he blurts, his eyes colliding with mine, tinged with a hint of guilt.
“He tossed his stuff down on the kitchen table and went into his room to change, muttering something about needing a shower. I was about to go and do the same when I heard his cell phone vibrate on the countertop.” His gaze falls downcast for a second before he quickly shakes it off and nails me with his stare.
“I know I fucked up today. I was lost in my head from the second the game actually started, so when we were done, I needed to breathe. But when I saw the text message come through, I thought I had a chance to apologize and fix whatever… this is,” he explains, making my heart race wildly in my chest as I blink at him.
When I don’t respond, he scrubs a hand through his hair. “Say something, Elodie.”
“The time for talking was back in the dining hall, not now, and not just because you say so,” I splutter, frustration getting the better of me again, and he sighs.
Turning toward my dorm room door, I fumble as I try to balance the books on one arm while I pull my key out with the other.
“Let me help you with that, Echo,” he breathes, using that damn nickname once again as I shake my head at him.
“I don’t need your help,” I bite through clenched teeth. The soft and gooey sexual tension that has melted my limbs all day has turned to hot lava, and it’s ready to cause chaos and destruction instead.
Thankfully, the door swings open easily, and I step inside, ready to kick it shut behind me. But I betray my own thoughts as I falter, the door handle firmly in my grasp as his eyes meet mine. The look in his eyes… fuck. I can’t take it right now.
Clearing my throat, I take a deep breath. “You need to decide if you’re hot or cold with me and stick to it. I can’t keep doing this whole back and forth routine. I’ve already got too much shit going on to fall victim to this too,” I blurt, watching him intently as his throat bobs and he nods.
“If I choose cold?” he asks, his tone as chilling as his words, but I fight to remain as unfazed as possible.
“Then I can survive the ice,” I bristle as he rubs his lips together.
“And if I choose hot?” he murmurs, bracing his hand on my door frame as his hair hangs loose over his eyes. I think I’m going to pass out from lack of an orgasm at this stage, but damn if I let him know that.
Instead, I offer him a sweet smile as I tighten my hold on the door handle.
“Then you’ll have to show me just how much you’re willing to burn too.”
I groan as I crack my neck from side to side, failing to ease the tension in my shoulders as I stare down at the open book in my lap.
Maybe I should have stayed cozied up in my room, but being in my one sanctuary in this whole entire world, while reading about the raw demise of my kind was too much to handle. I needed a neutral space, but maybe the gym inside the Institute Thirteen building isn’t it.
Shuffling my hips back, I press my spine against the wall, stretching as I absorb the words in my lap.
I’ve learned so much from one book alone, but it’s enough to cut my heart out and bare my soul to the entire world.
Fact after fact, the origin of the scythes has been shattered by those who lived to tell the tale.
Known for their mimicking abilities, Scythes walked the Earth long before history learned to name them.
Believed to be gifts sent from the heavens, they were effortlessly corrupted; twisted into instruments of destruction.
Their inability to control what they wielded placed them firmly among the enemies of all.
Power leeches. Parasitic mages. They bore the weight of stolen magic and the consequences that followed.
Feared by many and controlled by worse, the Scythes chose selfishness over humanity when they played their role in the Great Fall.
Locked into the demolition of the world around them, they could neither hear the warnings spoken in their presence nor recognize their own failures.
Their demise might not have come so swiftly had they not been so consumed by themselves.
The last known Scythes ceased to exist mere hours before the scripture was signed, and The Sanctum rose as a sanctuary for all magical beings. In their slaughter of indiscriminate lives, the Scythes forfeited their place among their peers and their chance at belonging.
The Great Fall embodies everything The Sanctum stands for. What they will forever stand for. We remain united under the rule of the select five. No one shall ever fall again.
Had action not been taken in the name of freedom, the Scythes would have destroyed themselves regardless. Their magic could not be stabilized. Tainted eyes and lesions marked their limbs, showing the visible reflections of the pain, terror, and devastation they inflicted upon the world.
Reading page after page of slander is weird.
I know it isn’t aimed at me, but I still feel it in my bones.
What’s worse is that I know in my heart I’m missing a lot of context.
This information is one-sided; it’s another unfair advantage for those able to pass on such stories. But why keep it all hidden?
I shake my head, bewildered as I turn the page, but my mind isn’t in it anymore. I think I’ve reached my limit. The words don’t sink in as I process the biggest revelation in it all. It makes sense now why The Sanctum wants to control me and why Jude wants to use me as his little weapon.
Little do they seem to know, I take care of myself, not them, and thinking otherwise is one sure way to meet their demise.
For the first time since Thorne saved me from Jude’s grasp, my initial thought isn’t panic; it’s concern as my mind wanders back to those still being held in that barren room. Guilt instantly churns in my stomach, making me hiss as my eyelids scrunch shut for a second.