After working in the library for the rest of the day with Gabriel and Elijah, she trailed them to the dining hall for dinner, still preoccupied with the task of choosing her classes for the next year. Her father had already emailed her to advise on which classes she should take, and to inform her that they would be deciding her class list on Monday night after he returned to Ironside.
It was an improvement on him deciding everything and her finding out what she was in store for without even a conversation, but she wasn’t sure she liked the fact that there was progress. He was trying to loop her in because he thought she was playing the game and was proud of the cunning he thought he had perceived in her.
But she was only trying to survive, just like she had every day in that penthouse apartment with her mother. The only difference was that her father wasn’t the only monster under her bed anymore.
“That’s our booth.” Elijah pointed to the alcove she usually saw the Alphas in. “Meet us there after you have your food.”
She watched them walk off with a bemused expression. They knew booths weren’t reserved, right? They had to. But still … now that she thought about it, nobody else dared to approach that particular table.
Must be nice to be untouchable.
She grabbed a tray and stopped before the food bar. It was Japanese-themed, with an extensive noodle and ramen section, a colourful sushi section, and a section for meats and tempura, which she passed by without a glance. She picked up a bowl of rice, a smaller bowl of vegetables, and some noodles in a miso broth, the steam curling up from the food making her stomach clench.
She hadn’t had much of an appetite lately, so it took her a few moments to realise she was hungry. She also hadn’t had to pause any of her activity to have a sneezing or coughing fit, and her head was clear of the fuzzy, disorientated feeling that had been plaguing her for weeks.
With a frown, she pulled out her phone and quickly navigated to the group chat, not really looking where she was going.
Isobel: What did you guys do to me last night?
“You’re running out of time.”
She pulled up short, her attention snapping up past her tray as someone grabbed the other side of it.
Crowe was glowering down at her, looking like he wanted to flip her tray up into her face. After a moment, he forcibly released it, spilling miso soup across the surface.
“What?” she managed, catching sight of Eve hovering a few tables away, pretending to talk to her friends, her gaze fixed sharply on Isobel and Crowe.
“You’re running out of time.” He enunciated each of the words like she was hard of hearing. “It’s almost summer break.”
Her mind went blank, her lips parting in shock. “It was you.”
He didn’t answer.
“The messages?” she pressed, an unfamiliar spark of fury igniting somewhere inside her. “You took that video.”
He still didn’t answer, but his complete lack of shock or confusion seemed to speak volumes.
“Did you hear me, slut?” He leaned over the tray, smelling like sweat and fear. “You’re out of fucking time. Do you have an answer or not?”
No … he didn’t smell like fear. He felt like fear. It was so strong it reached out to her even though he wasn’t an Alpha and her walls were still solidly raised.
He was swimming in it.
“I do,” she said, simply.
The look of hatred in his eyes burned hotter. “What’s it called, then?”
“The Stone Dahlia.”
“And how do you get in, Sigma?”
“You enter through the old boathouse by the lake.”
“Then why haven’t you?” He turned his head, spitting on the ground. “They’ll be making their offer to you tomorrow morning. It’s just a formality. You can’t actually refuse.”
He stalked off, and she glanced over at Eve, but the other girl was now pretending not to have noticed the interaction at all, laughing easily with her hand on the arm of an Omega girl. Isobel narrowed her eyes, noticing again that Eve seemed to have lost weight, her usual clothes hanging off her frame. The dark circles beneath her eyes unceasing.
Not Isobel’s problem.
She hurried over to the Alpha booth, slipping onto the edge of the bench seat without looking to see who else was there, except Gabriel, who sat opposite her and had been half-raised from his seat like he was about to come after her. He eased back down when she did, and she felt his attention on her. Not just him. She smelled saltwater and sunshine, and heady whiskey nearby. Cian and Niko.
Still, she didn’t tear her attention from Crowe, zeroing in on his table. He sat alone, staring down at an untouched tray, a vacant look on his face. Bellamy sat separately, surrounded by his usual group of loyal supporters. Crowe’s hair had grown longer and now hung shaggy and choppy, the unwashed length dangling over his eyes. He had put on weight, and his skin was sunken and sallow. Whenever someone passed by too close to where he sat, his eyes darted about in a panicked sort of way before resolutely fixing back to his tray.
He looked terrible. Defeated. Afraid. Traumatised.
“It was him?” Elijah’s soft whisper broke into her thoughts. “The behemoth?”
She nodded, barely, aware they couldn’t discuss anything openly.
“What did you guys …” She cleared her throat, glancing up to do a quick inventory of who was sitting in the booth: Elijah, Gabriel, Cian, and Niko. “I mean … did any of you do something to him?”
“That’s not us, doll.” Cian nodded toward Crowe. “That’s someone else’s doing.” He dipped close, his breath brushing her ear as he whispered, “Several someones.”
“Are you sure?” she pressed, biting on the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out accusations. Mostly directed toward Theodore or Oscar.
Cian slapped a napkin onto her tray to soak up the spilled liquid. “Mostly sure. I think you got a message.”
She pulled out her phone with a frown.
Theodore: You’ve forgotten?
Kilian: What do you remember?
Oscar: Bad things.
Moses: Filthy things.
Theodore: Moses, what the actual fuck.
She shook her head, typing out a reply.
Isobel: I know you weren’t there, Moses. You smell like stomped-on flowers. It’s hard to miss.
Moses: YOU CAN SCENT US?
“Little wolf.” Niko laughed out loud, reading his phone like it was a novel he was particularly invested in while he shovelled food into his mouth with the other hand.
Kilian: What do you remember, baby?
Cian groaned next to her, muttering, “This fucking guy.”
Isobel: I remember taking a shower?
“Suitably vague,” Elijah mumbled.
They were all on their phones, preferring to have this conversation away from the prying ears of Ironside.
“Yeah, we might need specifics, Carter.” Niko seemed to be enjoying himself.
She scowled, quickly tapping out another message.
Isobel: I remember taking a shower with Kilian and Theo.
Kilian: You fell asleep.
Isobel: In the shower?
Theodore: On me.
Isobel: … In the shower?
Cian snorted.
Theodore: A few steps out of the shower.