35. Locked Cage
Locked Cage
Desdemona
Every year since I was twelve, I’ve dreaded returning to Spearcrest after the Christmas holidays.
The first week after coming back is always the worst: I miss Mum and Dad, miss Blackwood Manor, the snow, the fireplace, my aunts and uncles, even being able to see Blaise and Dimitri and Yuna and all the others, outside of Spearcrest, where there are no social circles to keep us busy or isolated from one another.
This year is somehow worse than every other year put together.
It shouldn’t be: this is my last year at Spearcrest, after all. But that brings me no comfort. All I can think of, in that first week back, is the Inquisitor’s post. Birnam being awake—does that mean he’ll come back? I hope not. I hope he never comes back and stays far away from my sister.
Even though Ophelia and I didn’t discuss him over the holidays, or anything to do with school, at least she was talking to me.
Going on walks with everyone, or having cups of hot chocolate together, it felt like the distance between us had reduced, just a little, as if the chasm between us, while still seemingly impossible to cross, had at least narrowed.
But now that we’re back in Spearcrest, she’s back to avoiding me.
My brothers, having been on their best behaviour over the Christmas holiday, are starting to act up again—by the end of the first week, I’m already hearing rumours about Austen getting drunk and William being in a fight with one of the rugby boys.
I swallow back my frustration: don’t they realise I have bigger things to worry about?
Exams, university offers. Mr North made an announcement on our first day back about Birnam: the police might have to conduct searches.
Parents are in uproar, and hopefully the backlash will be enough to stop the police from gaining entry into the school.
But the Hastings are a force to be reckoned with, and with their comatose son sob story, they have the sympathy of the press.
And now Mr North is stuck in the middle of it.
I hate the Inquisitor with a passion, and whoever he is, I don’t believe for one second that he stands for anything good or moral—but in this case, he does have a point.
Someone’s head is going to have to roll.
I knew it all along—isn’t that why I made my deal with Elias?
Planted Birnam’s phone on him as the incriminating evidence?
Evidence the police will definitely find, because I knew all along it would come to this.
I just hoped—blindly, stupidly—that it might not.
That I could save my sister, my brothers and Elias—all of them.
But saving them would have meant stopping this situation from happening in the first place. I failed to do that, so why shouldn’t I fail this time too?
I barely sleep that first week back, lying in bed most nights tossing and turning, haunted by shifting shadows and looming nightmares.
For the first time since the start of my tenure as head girl, I miss a meeting: I fall asleep in the library while writing an essay and don’t wake up until I feel a hand on my shoulder.
Startled and wide awake, I sit up, blinking fast. Elias’s face comes into focus, the bronze library lights illuminating the sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. His dark hair is pushed back, wet with melting snow. His cheeks are flushed, and his grin is amused.
I have the sudden realisation that time is passing quickly—and that Elias grows exponentially more beautiful with each passing day.
“Shouldn’t you be in a meeting, Head Girl?” he asks, oblivious.
That snaps me out of it.
“Oh no!” I check my watch and stifle a curse, scrambling up to my feet. “Shit! I don’t know how I—” I shove my laptop, books and papers into my bag. “I should be—”
“Hey, hey, love, it’s alright.” Elias takes my bag out of my hands, sets it aside and comes to stand in front of me, cradling my face in his hands. “The world’s not gonna end because you missed a meeting, yeah?”
Over Christmas, I couldn’t help the feeling that he was avoiding me—or that he’s been avoiding me since we got back.
Maybe he’s been busy—he was definitely busy over Christmas, between Dad and the twins trying to get him involved in whatever sports or games they had going that day, or Uncle Zach wanting to discuss cosmic philosophy with him or Blaise and Dimitri trying to get him drunk.
And now we’re back at school, I know he has a million things to keep him busy.
Building his escape plan, studying, preparing for his exams just like I am, working on the physics thing he won’t tell me about.
Or maybe, just maybe… he’s just remembering our bargain, remembering the truth of its nature instead of falling for the pretending.
Except the way he looks at me now doesn’t feel like pretence. Before I can even reply, he’s tilting my face gently this way and that, frowning, his features registering real concern.
“You okay, love? You look exhausted.”
He swipes his thumbs under my eyes and tugs on the skin, dragging it down.
“God, look at those bags,” he mutters. “You’re scaring me.”
I pull away from him, a short, exasperated laugh huffing out of my chest. “You’re making me look like this!”
“What’s the point of being a rich hot girl if you’re going to be just as stressed out and exhausted as the rest of us mere mortals?” Elias says. There’s that mocking edge in his voice that tells me he’s telling a little bit of the truth, even if he’s mostly joking.
I’m tempted to say something equally mocking and derisive, but the way he’s cradling my face and gazing down at me, in the molten bronze silence of the library, disarms me completely.
My heart skips a beat, my skin glowing warmth in his presence.
How is it that I never feel as soft and exposed as I do around him, when he’s the one I should be the most careful around?
“I’ve not been sleeping well.” I don’t even mean to tell him the truth—I wouldn’t have told anyone but him.
Instead of sighing in pity, he smirks. “Pea under your pillow, princess?”
A pea of anxiety, maybe. An adamantine pearl of fear.
Elias pulls me into an embrace as if he can hear my thoughts, wrapping his arms around me. His strength is surprising every time I feel it, those tight, wiry muscles, that firm, engulfing grip. He speaks against my temple, low and soft.
“What could possibly be bothering a girl as strong and brave as you?”
But if I really was strong and brave, we wouldn’t be in this mess to begin with.
“You know what,” I mumble into his shoulder. “Mr North is going to let the police search the dorms.”
“So?” he replies, airy and amused. “It’s all part of the plan, no?”
I shake my head. “No. The plan is still to try and make sure you never get arrested.”
And to get you through your exams unscathed, and away from those vampiric Pearsons, and bring you to Harvard with me.
Maybe—just maybe—keep you at my side just a little bit longer.
“But if someone’s going to get arrested,” Elias says, “it’s going to be me.” He pulls away only slightly enough to look down at me, eyes dark and earnest. “That was the whole point of our deal.”
My throat feels suddenly clogged thick with things I can’t bring myself to say. I should never have made this deal. I should never have asked this of you. Why should you be punished for a crime you didn’t commit?
He has everything to lose, the niggling voice in my head says, low and warbling. He has everything to lose, and you and your brothers—nothing.
But it’s my job to protect them. It’s my job to protect Mum and Dad. Our family.
And who protects Elias?
“Stop worrying, love, alright?” Elias says, interrupting my thoughts. “I understood the terms of our bargain, and I still agreed. That was my choice. So stop feeling guilty. I can look after myself.”
But you shouldn’t have to.
My heart is tight, locked in a cage made of all the things I can’t say out loud.