18. Fae
FAE
Groaning, I stretch as I pull myself out of sleep. I cannot remember the last time I slept this peacefully. For a second, I forget where I am, then Roman’s scent hits me and I roll over, burying my face into his pillow.
The most dangerous thing about all of this is that I could get used to it.
I stare at the wall, the thought settling heavy in my chest before it twists into something darker. The next man I get told to fuck… will it be easier now? When I disassociate, will I remember this? Will it make it easier to pretend, or harder because I know what it’s supposed to feel like?
Is it fucked up that I hope it helps?
Last night feels like a dream. The tenderness in Roman was something I never saw coming, something he has never shown me or any of our group.
His words replay in my head. You will never face the fire alone, Fae.
Does he mean it? The last time we were together I thought he was just lost in the moment, and after the beach I convinced myself that all good things come to an end.
Now I am not so sure.
My whole world has been tipping upside down for weeks, ever since Robyn left.
I am torn between exploring whatever this is with Roman and focusing on bringing my girl home.
Robyn would tell me to live, I know that.
But how can I, when her disappearance is always there, sitting in the back of my mind?
The worst feeling of all is the wanting. People think it is the hope that kills you, but what if you have no hope left? What if all you have is want? The want for my mum to come back to life, for my friend to come home, for Roman to be real.
Wanting means losing.
And yet… there is something about Roman that doesn’t fit the pattern.
He doesn’t drift or hesitate or keep one foot already out of the door.
He is deliberate. When he wants something, he doesn’t circle around it or pretend otherwise.
He claims it. He keeps saying he has claimed me, and maybe… I need to believe him.
Does it make me weak that this is what terrifies me the most?
To stand next to someone who knows exactly what they want and is not afraid to say it out loud.
I haven’t known what I have wanted since my first time in the crypt.
My life has never been my own to make those kinds of choices.
Who would I have become if I had the freedom to choose like Felix or Roman?
Roman is like the eye of the storm. Everywhere else is chaos, but with him, everything stills for a moment. Maybe wanting doesn’t always have to mean losing. Maybe sometimes it means being fully seen and chosen anyway.
Sighing, I roll out of bed and rifle through Roman’s drawers for some clothes.
I notice a letter on the bedside table and open it.
A small smile pulls at my mouth, as I shake my head at the butterflies that flutter in my stomach.
Throwing on an oversized tee and a clean pair of his boxers, I shuffle out of his door.
The hallway is quiet as I walk along the fluffy carpet, the house still half asleep.
Morning light spills through the tall windows in thin bands.
This place has always felt too big, too polished.
It’s built for men who know where they’re going, not for someone like me who learned early that survival mattered more than choice.
My bare feet barely make a sound as I follow the familiar pull towards the kitchen. The smell hits me before the room does. If there isn’t a cup of coffee or tea on the go somewhere in this house, then something is seriously wrong.
These men live on caffeine.
I pause in the doorway for a second longer than I need to, my chest tightening with that familiar, irrational fear. It’s like the peace that lives here knows I don’t belong.
Atlas is in the kitchen, standing at the counter with his sleeves rolled up, his red hair catching the light like copper wire. He glances over his shoulder when he hears me and his bright blue eyes soften instantly.
Atlas is the kindest of the group. It’s like he refuses to let the darkness of our world touch him.
I have always been in awe of the way he carries himself.
He suits being a hacker, the type of person who can make or break organisations without ever needing recognition.
Without him, our group would have fractured already.
He knows exactly what to say and do for each of us.
Riggs is the joker, Felix is the protector, but Atlas… Atlas is the peace.
“Morning,” he says gently, offering me a warm smile. I love his smile. His teeth flash white as it lights up his whole face.
“Morning,” I reply, quieter than I meant to.
He is also the smallest of the boys, but at six foot two, I wouldn’t exactly call him short.
He tosses the tea towel onto the counter and steps towards me.
It’s something they all do. I don’t know if it’s Felix’s influence or if they’re just gentlemen, but whenever they see me, they greet me properly.
Before I know it, Atlas is in front of me, bending to press a kiss to my forehead.
“Sit,” he says, placing a hand between my shoulder blades and guiding me to the island. I roll my eyes and try to jab him softly with my elbow.
“I can walk, you know,” I sass as he dodges out of the way.
“Can you? After I heard you and Roman for the third time last night, I was convinced I’d have to wheel you out of there.”
I groan, my cheeks flaming as I cover my face with both hands.Atlas chuckles beside me and moves to take a seat.
“Let’s not talk about that,” I say when I finally sit back down.
“Deal.” He points at me. “But if your brother starts his morning off with attitude, I’m holding you personally responsible to mediate that. I’m staying out of it.”
“Fuck,” I laugh. “Did you really hear us?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck my life.”
“Eh, don’t stress. You and Roman were inevitable anyway. Felix has had years to come to terms with it.”
“What do you mean we were inevitable?” I ask, frowning. Why do all these guys seem to think this was always going to happen?
“Oh, come on, Fairy. Minus the fact he’d pine after you everywhere you went and go insane on your duty days, you had to have seen the way he looked at you on nights out.” Atlas looks genuinely dumbfounded that I’m unaware.
“Honestly, no. I never noticed.”
“Either you’re a fucking shit spy or you read social cues worse than Roman, because what the fuck, Fairy?” Atlas’s laugh booms across the empty kitchen, which pulls a laugh out of me before I can stop it.
“Anyway, eat. What do you want?” He asks after we’ve settled down.
“You got crumpets in?”
“Yep, two crumpets coming up.”
We fall into a companionable silence. Atlas potters about, making tea as he sorts breakfast. We eat without rushing, the clink of cutlery and the hum of the kettle filling the space between us.
Despite myself, my thoughts drift back to Roman. I feel embarrassed at the thought of everyone hearing us last night. It curdles in my stomach as I swallow another piece of buttered crumpet. I make a silent promise to myself that the next time Roman and I are together, it will be at mine.
Next time.
The fact I can even plan a next time makes me shiver. Is this the hope everyone talks about? I wonder if, if Roman is serious, it means he will make a bid for me at the initiation ceremony. Will I actually be chosen, not out of obligation but desire?
I internally groan There are too many complications.
One, Dr. Fisher has his sights set on me.
Two, I’m a Swallow and, whilst it’s not a rule, most of us end up spending our lives in the compound.
And three, Roman could have anyone. Maybe he’s just passing his time with me until then, and for the first time ever, I realise I’m okay with that.
The memories of him and me together will be enough to get me through whatever dark moments are still to come.
Atlas shoves the last of his yoghurt into his mouth and places his spoon down.
Standing, he moves to the sink and opens the third drawer.
He pulls out a black box and I pause mid-bite.
Frowning, I watch as he closes all the doors and then switches the machine on.
I know exactly what it is. It’s a bug sweeper.
“Look, Fae, I… I need to talk to you about what happened last night.”
I swallow as I look at him, my heartbeat picking up at the thought of what he’s about to say.
Does he realise that no matter who my brother is, being connected to me is a bad thing?
Will he ban me from the house to protect the others?
I wouldn’t blame him. I know Felix won’t be down for that, but he can still visit me.
Anxiety prickles beneath my ribs as Atlas steps forward and takes my hand.
“I spent all last night awake researching the buildings Jack gave us.”
Oh.
“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he adds quickly, “but I didn’t want to keep it from you either. A shell company owns most of the buildings. I’m not sure who it’s connected to, but I’m digging into it. I hacked the records, and I think this could be connected to Robyn’s disappearance.”
I gasp, not meaning to, Atlas’s hand tightening around mine. The emotion hits sharp and sudden as I press my free hand to my chest, trying to slow my breathing. I count to ten, willing myself not to cry, but a tear slips free anyway. Atlas swipes it away and gives me a sympathetic smile.
“Why?”
“Want to know what I found weird?” he says; I nod. “Every scholarship student goes missing. Some turn up dead. Most are labelled as too stressed and drop out. I don’t believe that, Fae. Not after Robyn.”
“What aren’t you saying?”
“I asked Victor to get some of Robyn’s DNA from her room. We uploaded it under an alias to test it. I had a hunch. I… Fae, there’s no easy way to tell you this, but I knew what Dr. Fisher did to you before yesterday.”
My body jolts as I look up into his sad blue eyes.