“The Vessels you see at Hollow’s Grove are assigned to the school. They remain here, and as such, they feed off who they please while they’re within these walls. Only the underaged are off limits, according to the bargain,” Susannah explained.
“If a Vessel has been assigned to you for this Reaping, you will find a red mark on your bedroom door when you return from your classes tomorrow evening. If not, you will be required to remain in your quarters regardless starting at eight. If you’ve never participated in a Reaping, someone will assist you with making preparations if you’re chosen,” George continued, his voice far more sympathetic as the new students exchanged worried glances. “There’s nothing to fear. Should you wish it, the feeding can be quite quick and painless.”
I swallowed as I glanced at Iban. “When will they share the pairs with us?” I asked, watching as his lips pursed.
“What do you mean?” he asked, tipping his head to the side.
“The Vessel who has chosen us to be his feeder for the year. When do we find out who it will be?”
The shock on Iban’s face did nothing to abate my rising panic. “There hasn’t been a pair bond in decades, Willow. They stopped doing them after the massacre fifty years ago,” he whispered, leaning into my side as he spoke.
I felt Gray’s stare on my back, as if the bastard wasn’t satisfied with the knowledge that I would never be able to enjoy being with Iban. Distance would be the only way to placate him, but I’d be damned if I gave him the satisfaction.
“What are you talking about?” My mother had attended the University after the massacre. She’d never hinted that it wasn’t the way any longer, that they’d strayed from the original way to handle the Reaping. “Once a week, the Vessel who chose us comes to feed.”
“Once a week, the Vessel who is assigned to us feeds, but it’s a different one of them every time. They did it to avoid witches and Vessels forming unnatural relationships with each other,” he explained, shrugging his shoulders.
“A different one every week?” I asked, feeling like the breath had been stolen from my lungs. It shouldn’t have mattered. If one Vessel fed from me, that was surely enough. They were all the same, all monsters hidden in human skin crafted from the earth.
Except it would make it that much more difficult for me to use Gray’s possessiveness to my advantage. It would be less time I could spend getting him addicted to me, my blood, my body. Not to mention, it meant Gray would be feeding from another witch. I growled beneath my breath, shaking my head and smiling when Iban looked at me in shock.
Fuck.
The red mark on my door stole the breath from my lungs. I should have known that I would have the misfortune of being chosen in the first week, but I’d hoped…
I didn’t know what I’d hoped.
“It’s not so bad,” Della said, letting herself into my room. She went to the bed, picking up the light gray, floor-length slip that had been left on top of the bedspread. “And it can be pleasant if you want.”
She moved the thin silk one to the side, revealing a short slip of lace. “Why are there two?” I asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“You wear this one,” she said, picking up the lacey one and holding it to her body as she spun. “If you’re open to feeding more carnal desires.”
“If I’m open to letting the Vessel fuck me?” I asked, huffing out a breath. I didn’t even know who it would be.
Della shrugged her shoulders, picking up the silk nightgown and handing it to me at whatever she saw on my face. “You don’t have to love someone to fuck him. You don’t even have to like him.”
“How am I supposed to make the decision of whether or not I want him? I don’t even know who will walk through that door,” I said, sighing as I stood and shoved my blazer off my shoulders. I folded it and placed it on top of my dresser, letting my fingers drop to the bow at my throat as I unknotted it.
“You won’t ever know who he was, and I think that’s some of the appeal of it. It’s a night of fun, no consequences for tomorrow because you won’t even know his name,” she said with a laugh. “Are you more attracted to women? I just assumed you were into men because of the way you flirt with Iban. If you like women too, I can tell Headmaster Thorne. There are a few female Vessels who prefer female company.”
“No, it’s not that. But witches hate the Vessels, so why would they allow Vessels to touch them?” I asked, thinking about how I’d desperately wanted to avoid the forbidden aspect. How I’d feared the judgment if I’d allowed a Vessel to touch me intimately.
It seemed more witches were willing to allow it than I’d expected, just under the cover of darkness and the secrecy of the Reaping.
“Spoken like a woman who has never had hate sex,” she laughed, standing and helping me unbutton my shirt. I didn’t protest the odd intimacy of it or the fact that it left my bra open to her view when she finished. It felt like taking care of me, like the closest thing I’d ever had to friendship when she tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
It made me feel younger than I was, than I’d ever been allowed to be.
I thought of Gray’s hands on me, of his mouth devouring me as if he couldn’t decide if he hated me or wanted to live with his face between my legs.
I suspected this concept of hate sex had merit.
“Not quite sex,” I said as the realization hit me.
Della grinned, understanding lighting her face. We both knew that someone had touched me with less than good intentions, that he’d taken more than I should have allowed.
That I’d liked it.
“No one but us has to know. I’ll help you get ready, and your secret is safe with me if you choose to put on the lace. There’s no guarantee he’ll take what you’ve offered, but either way, that secret is yours to keep,” she said, stepping away as I pulled my shirt off and tossed it to the hamper in the corner. My skirt and socks followed as I shoved them down my legs, leaving me in my bra and underwear as I reached for the silk nightgown.
As tempting as it was to give another Vessel what Gray thought was his, it would undo years of preparation. Years of my father’s insistence that keeping myself untouched would drive a Vessel to the point of obsession.
Especially if I bled the first time.
I froze, the fabric scrunching in my hand as it clenched into a fist. “Do the Vessels often reject offers?” I asked, dread rising in my throat. I tried to swallow around it, feeling like grave dirt filled my lungs suddenly.
“Not in my experience,” she said, studying my face too closely.
All Vessels fed on the Reaping. That much I knew. If there were no pair bonds—if Gray was not the one who came to me that night—would he be with another? Even just the thought of him feeding from someone else made me want to tear out his throat.
Shit.
I wasn’t supposed to care about that. He wasn’t mine, and he never would be.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.