Chapter 30
LARK
The dial tone rings for what feels like forever. I grit my teeth, already knowing it’s going to go to voicemail.
Wren hasn’t answered a single one of my calls since she left for her honeymoon with Marcus a few days ago.
I’ve left all sorts of voicemails—angry, tearful, concerned, frustrated, and pleading. I’m going crazy trapped in this house with my mother’s full attention on me, and I could really use my big sister.
Before I get a chance to find out what type of message I’ll be leaving this afternoon, a stern voice barks, “What are you doing?”
I freeze in place, her voice alone triggering my fight-or-flight instinct. “I’m calling a friend from college. Is there something I can do for you, Mother?”
After I manage to will my limbs to move, I turn to face Lisa Sparrow, socialite, matriarch of the Sparrow family, and perpetually disappointed in me.
She has her blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun. Pearls older than I am decorate her neck, and diamonds adorn her ears and fingers. She’s dressed in a prim light blue skirt, cream blouse, and sky-high heels I would break my neck in.
Mother rakes her gaze over my oversized T-shirt and worn cutoffs, sneering at either my choice of attire or just the fact that I exist.
She scoffs at the notion of me having any friends as if the idea that someone could possibly like me is that unbelievable.
“Yes. You can stop calling your sister. Marcus had to confiscate her phone so they can bond as husband and wife. Call her once more, and I will cancel your phone plan and take back your device.”
Uneasiness pools in my stomach at the thought of Marcus taking away Wren’s only way to contact the outside world, as though she’s a misbehaving child instead of his wife.
Mother and Father have allowed me to go to college but refuse to let me get a job. They pay for everything, and they never let me forget about it. I have to toe the line or risk getting cut off completely.
“Yes, Mother,” I reply, careful to keep my voice even and avoid setting her off.
It doesn’t work.
“I also received a disturbing letter from your university. It seems that, in addition to your business major, you have picked up a graphic design minor. I expect you to drop it before the semester starts. Otherwise, you will not be attending college any longer.”
My heart thumps frantically in my chest at the thought of not being able to finish my last year.
I need to graduate to get out of this house. Without a degree, I’ll never be able to find a job to support myself, and I’ll be trapped here until I’m forced to marry whatever man my parents pick out.
I can’t imagine spending another week in this gilded cage thinly disguised as a house, let alone the years it will take my parents to find me a match that benefits them.
I will do anything and everything I have to graduate, including dropping the only subject I actually like at college. Business bores me to tears. But graphic design gives me an outlet to express myself, challenge myself, and grow.
At least, it did. I guess I won’t be taking any more graphic design classes.
“I had to take electives to graduate,” I rush to tell her, needing her not to make good on her threat. “With the number of graphic design electives I have taken, it made sense to add a minor. It’s not taking anything away from my major.”
“I don’t care,” she snaps. “I expect you to drop that minor and choose something more suitable instead. It will already be nearly impossible to find you an advantageous match with how you look and your inability to do anything right. How on earth do you expect me to marry off a waste of space like you when you have a minor like graphic design?”
I close my eyes as I do my best to be like the old Wren and let her words roll off me.
Unfortunately, I’ve never mastered the art of not giving a shit what people think, especially Mother.
Unlike Wren, I have the privilege of attending college, but that’s only because I’m less desirable than my older sister. I’m not nearly as pretty, sociable, likable, or good wife material as she is.
In order to be desirable to a future husband, my parents decided that I needed to “add value” by having a respectable degree. Knowing how to run a business will apparently make up for my lack of beauty and natural talent.
I was surprised my parents let me go to a human university at first. Now, I suspect that it was to keep me from running into any potential mates.
I can’t very well get married off if I’m mated, now can I?
I don’t want to get married for convenience. I want to find my mates and fall in love and actually start living. But that’s never going to happen if I can’t get my degree and get out of this fucking house and away from my mother.
I school my expression to be contrite. “I apologize, Mother. I will contact the school today and get it changed.”
“See that you do.” Walking up to me, she lifts her hand, and I flinch.
It doesn’t make a difference as she slaps me hard on my stomach, the crack echoing through the room.
“And I will tell the chef not to make you a meal for tonight and to drop down to one meal a day until you leave. You’re getting fat.
You can’t even see your waist anymore. With your flat chest and boyish hips, it’s no wonder you have no boyfriend or interested suitors to speak of. ”
With that parting shot, she whirls around and glides out of my room, the picture of elegance and grace.
I hold back my tears as I rub my stinging belly. Walking over to my mirror, I pull up my shirt and pinch the skin covering my abdomen, hating how I look. My stomach is soft instead of lean with muscle. My waist is athletic instead of tiny. My hips are trim instead of curvy and voluptuous.
I’ve never been as naturally beautiful as Wren or my mother or Charlie or anyone, really. I’ve tried to tell myself it doesn’t bother me, but even I don’t believe that lie.
The longer I stare into the mirror, the angrier I get.
Wren knows what Mother is like, and she still left me with her to go gallivant around the world with her slimeball new husband. I don’t know why I’m surprised, when she hasn’t been much of a sister for the past six months.
Ever since she got engaged to Marcus, Wren’s changed.
She’s always wearing one of those placid, fake smiles, just like the other socialites we swore we’d never be. She’s no longer wild and rebellious and her own person. Instead, she’s Marcus’s little yes woman, always agreeing with whatever bullshit he spews.
With her fancy new husband, Wren no longer has time for me. I can’t help but hate her a little for how she changed and abandoned me.
I no longer have anyone protecting me from Mother’s snide comments at the events I’m forced to attend. I no longer have someone to talk or laugh with. I no longer have my best friend to hope and dream about getting out of this place with.
And for what?
Some sleazy businessman my parents set her up with?
What about Cooper? The boy whose heart she ripped out and stomped on when she not only ended their engagement but also moved on immediately?
He’s a shell of himself, and she doesn’t even fucking care. Just like she doesn’t care about me or any of my problems. She’s too busy with her charmed life to care about any of the people she left behind.
Where the hell did my sister go?
“I was always there,” Wren’s voice whispers from behind me. “You just didn’t want to look too hard at it all, did you, Lulu?”
I whirl around to see my sister standing behind me, her face hollow and eyes empty. Splotchy bruises dot her arms, and her clothing is torn and dirty. I’m pretty sure I even see blood on her white linen pants.
I gasp at the state she’s in. Confused how she’s here, I ask, “Wren?”
“You were content to let me sacrifice everything for you while you got to live a life I never did,” she replies, her voice scratchy and monotone. “While I was suffering for you, you were here, hating me. How could you be so selfish? How could you let me down like that?”
Before I can say anything, everything wavers and fades away, replaced with the day I found Wren. The day I learned just how wrong I had been. The day I realized just how much more Wren had loved me than herself.
I bolt upright, abruptly yanked from the dream, thankfully before I can start screaming her name.
My gaze darts around frantically, hoping none of the guys are awake to see me like this—silent tears streaming down my face, heaving breaths rattling my chest, and my limbs trembling uncontrollably.
All four of them are asleep, and I release a shaky breath of relief.
I had buried that memory of Wren’s honeymoon. Now that I remember it, I feel like an even bigger piece of shit than I normally do.
I was sitting in my cushy room, living my cushy life, complaining about how hard everything was while Wren was being raped over and over by a man she never wanted to marry. While I was going on and on about how she abandoned me, she was giving up everything to keep me from suffering the same fate.
It should’ve been me who had to marry him—not her. She was and always will be a better person than I’ll ever be.
If anyone deserved to end up in a loveless, abusive marriage, I did. It would’ve served me right for how damn self-centered I was.
“Little bird,” a deep voice calls, interrupting my spiraling thoughts.
My gaze snaps up and darts around the room until it lands on Azrael.
He’s sitting in one of the pale blue armchairs opposite the bed.
His huge frame is encased almost completely in shadows.
Only his gold eyes reflect the moonlight filtering in through the curtains, making him look even more dangerous than usual.
“Come here,” Azrael quietly orders, probably not wanting to wake up the others any more than I do.
Weakened from the events hours earlier and my nightmare, I don’t have the will to fight him. Doing as he says, I carefully climb out of bed, moving slowly to avoid disturbing the guys.
Padding across the thick carpet, I stop when I’m in front of him. I stand there for a moment, uncertain of what I’m supposed to do before his large hands land on my waist. I swallow down my yelp of surprise as he tugs me onto his lap.
My legs fall open, and I straddle his powerful thighs. His black trousers are silky soft against the bare skin of my inner legs. His button-down is crisp as I clutch it in my fists to steady myself, wrinkling the expensive material.
I stare at him with wide eyes as I wait for him to say whatever it is he wanted to say. Part of me hopes he’ll lay into me like he did last night. It’s the least I deserve for how badly I let Wren down.
The other part of me doesn’t know if I can survive him calling me pathetic or spineless right now. Not when I’m still raw from a memory that I, selfishly, wish had stayed buried.
He doesn’t say anything as his gaze traces over my face. He frowns at whatever he sees.
Surprising me, Azrael bands his arms around me and crushes me to his chest. “I’m not good with words,” he rasps. “But after a nightmare, I don’t want pretty promises or false reassurance that it’ll get better. I just want to feel safe. Is that what you want, little bird?”
While I stiffen at the move at first, I quickly relax into his hold. Laying my head on his shoulder, I let him take my weight, no longer having the strength to support myself.
I nod against him. My lips brush against his neck as I breathe, “Yeah.”
“Then know this,” he rumbles into my hair, “I have fought thousands upon thousands of opponents and won. I have survived countless challenges for my alpha position, defeated enemy valors who wanted to take over our lands, and won battles when my forces and I were outnumbered twenty to one. As long as you’re in my arms, nothing and no one can hurt you. ”
His voice is so strong and certain that I have no choice but to believe him.
Unfortunately, it’s not enemies or assailants I need protection from. It’s my own actions and the remorse that will haunt me until I’m six feet under.
“What about when it’s the past I’m afraid of?” I ask in a shaky voice. “What if it’s my own mind I need to be protected from?”
“I said nothing will hurt you. That includes yourself. I will wake you up at the first sign of nightmares. I swear it to you. Now rest, little bird. Let your body heal itself so you can live to fight another day.”
“I’m scared,” I admit in a small voice.
Azrael’s arms tighten around me, and he starts soothingly running one of his hands up and down my back. “I know. I’m afraid to close my eyes most nights, so I don’t sleep much. But you need the rest, Lark. So, trust me to keep you safe, if only for tonight.”
If I were less of a mess, I’d be surprised that the huge, tatted-up biker fears anything, let alone sleeping like I do. But, right now, all I feel is seen and a little less alone.
Stalling to avoid having to go back to sleep and have another nightmare, I ask, “Why do you hate me?”
He sighs, his warm breath ruffling my hair as he does so. “I don’t hate you. I never have. I just can’t afford a… complication like you in my life. It’s best for both of us if I keep my distance.”
I know he’s right, but apparently neither of us can stay away. “Then why are you holding me right now?”
He’s silent for so long that I pull back to look at him. His eyes are squeezed shut as he reluctantly admits, “Because I can’t stand to see you hurting, little bird.” His eyes blink open, and he reaches his hand up to push my head back down onto his shoulder. “Now stop stalling and go to sleep.”
His chest rattles with a low purring sound that instantly relaxes every muscle in my body. My eyes close before I realize what’s happening. I drift off before I have the chance to work myself up about it, feeling safer than I ever have, thanks to Azrael’s arms wrapped around me.