“Because that particular issue has absolutely nothing to do with your safety.”
She frowned, keeping her head down as he dragged her toward the dining hall. She could hardly demand answers with students spilling over the pathways on their way to grab breakfast and cameras leering down at them.
“There’s Theo,” Gabriel said, pointing out the tousled dark head of hair ducking into the dining hall, taller than most of the students around him. “Go straight to him. No detours. I can’t leave Elijah alone and you aren’t allowed to be alone either. Mikki’s rules.”
He spun on his heel, jogging away from her, and she followed the slow slog of students into the dining hall. Theodore had already grabbed a tray and was filling it to overflowing. It seemed that the food theme that morning was just “pancakes,” because that’s all she could see.
They were all different shapes and sizes, stacked onto labelled warming plates and surrounded by tumbling displays of fruit, selections of yogurt, flavoured creams, an assortment of syrups, and an entire section of miscellaneous toppings. There were thick and fluffy buttermilk pancakes, spotted blueberry and choc chip, orange pumpkin and pecan, buckwheat, wholewheat, ricotta, lemon, oatmeal, and cornmeal … and then there seemed to be an international section. Thin stacks from Sweden; puffy, jiggly towers from Japan; savoury samples from Korea and Japan; tiny little Dutch puffs; and flat, sugary Hungarian crepes.
She scanned the other labels with distracted eyes. Chinese, Finnish, Mexican, Persian, Bhutanese, Hungarian, and Indian … it was one of the most elaborate breakfast displays Ironside had done since she had arrived. She was used to it on special occasions, but she couldn’t remember anything special about that particular day. It was the day before Consolidation Day.
Theodore was mixing so many different types of pancakes it actually made her stomach start to turn, but then she realised he was checking his phone as he piled things on. Kilian, Cian, Moses, Niko, and Oscar were already tucked away in their booth, and only some of them seemed to have food.
“Need a hand?” she asked.
“Just the Illy I was waiting for.” He immediately doused her in a smile that made her stomach flip before he transferred the tray to her hands, pulling out a fresh one. He paused, his smile disappearing as he glanced around her. “Elijah and Gabriel are supposed to be with you.”
“They … got held up.”
“Hmm.” He examined her expression quietly, but he didn’t press her, turning back to his task until the second tray was also full. He added on what she wanted to eat, and then they carried all the food back to the table, setting the trays down as the other Alphas descended, grabbing for plates and muttering their thanks.
“Hey.” Moses caught the hem of her shirt, pulling her firmly down beside him. “Thanks for the flowers.”
She peeked over at him, but he had already released her shirt and was entirely focussed on his food, and then a sudden, booming voice distracted her, making her jump in shock.
“Attention students!” The voice reverberated through the room, projected by a microphone.
They peered out of their booth, watching as a group of officials strode into the hall, wheeling what looked like a projector on a small stand.
“If you could all give us your attention for a few moments, we have a special announcement that concerns all of you.”
It was a woman speaking: a brunette in a navy suit, her fringe sweeping over her face in a harsh fashion. “An incident has been brought to our attention,” the woman continued, stepping into the centre of the room as the other officials set up the projector, casting a light over the back wall of the dining hall.
Moses caught Isobel around the waist, lifting her out of the booth and setting her on her feet again as the other Alphas slid out, gathering around her.
She pulled her phone out as all the other booths emptied, everyone spilling out to watch the back wall. Navigating to Sophia’s contact, she sent off a quick message, asking if everything was okay on their end.
Sophia: Nothing out of the ordinary yet.
She began to reply, but the back wall suddenly filled with an image, distracting her.
Because it was her.
Her face was blurred, but the dress Kilian had gifted her wasn’t.
“The fuck is this?” Theodore growled out lowly, apparently also able to tell that it was her.
“This video was taken last term by a student who was hesitant to turn it in,” the woman announced, as the video remained paused, stuck on the image of Isobel … stepping out of Dorm A?
“We have very strict rules when it comes to bullying and sexual assault,” the woman barked into her microphone.
“Bullshit,” Moses mumbled beneath his breath.
“Let this video be a warning to you all,” the woman said ominously. “We’re always watching, and inappropriate behaviour will be met with severe and swift action.”
The video started, then.
Crowe lumbered onto the screen, and Isobel sank backward, closer to the booth, wishing she could hide from all the cameras in the room. Crowe’s face was blurred, but the fuzzy circle was much smaller than the one protecting Isobel’s identity, still revealing the limp, dark strands of hair that fell around his face—not to mention he was easily one of the largest boys on campus, and his only slightly muffled voice rang through the room the second he spoke.
“Let’s try this again, shall we?” He was dragging her away from the entrance, and the projection blurred as whoever had been secretly videoing him shifted quickly to follow, refocusing and zooming in as Crowe held her upright against the back of the dorm.
“I knew you’d give in eventually,” Crowe crooned, his voice more distant now as her body pitched and wobbled to the side, her limbs falling limp and unresponsive.
The video cut off abruptly, and the official paused with the microphone raised to her lips, a small, cruel smile concealed as a storm of whispering broke out through the hall.
The officials wanted to publicly shame Crowe … but why? He was a Beta, and it definitely wasn’t to protect anyone from bullies or predators. The officials had known about—and were gossiping about—all the attacks made against her, but not one of them had tried to speak to her about them.
There was a commotion toward the back of the room, students scrambling away from a person standing near the entrance to the hall.
Crowe.
He glanced over at her, his eyes empty, his mouth forming a word. “Welcome.”
Welcome … what?
Someone shoved him several steps backward, almost knocking him off balance despite his massive size. Bellamy was standing before the bigger boy, fuming, his eyes spitting furious fire. His mouth was moving in a furious gush of words, but Isobel couldn’t hear a thing he was saying from the other side of the hall.
He shoved Crowe again, but Crowe didn’t even bother to fight back. He spat out what looked like a curse before spinning on his heel and stalking out of the hall.