14. Adrianna

14

ADRIANNA

T he dirt is gone, but the heat touching my skin remains. I can still feel Cassian everywhere, and now it's mixed with Brody's heated stare. The shower was exactly what I needed, but my reflection doesn't seem any different as I look myself over.

My hips are mottled with fingertip-sized bruises and my ear is still red from Cassian pushing my face into the ground.

I love it.

I don't love the fact that classes are done for the day and I don't know what to do with myself. Usually, down time like this would instantly have me considering a run, but I think I've already worked up enough of a sweat for the day. I need to head back to my room and consider some alternatives.

Feeling fresher than earlier, I fix the towel around my chest as tightly as I can, silently berating myself for not grabbing clothes before stepping in here. It's either the towel walk of shame or putting the filthy clothes back on, and that's not an option. I could use my magic to clean them and dry them, but it feels like a waste.

Thankfully, I make it back to my room uninterrupted, letting the door click closed behind me with a resounding thud.

I freeze in place; my jaw slacks as I gape at the vase that sits proudly on my desk. It's not the same one, but the dozen red roses that stand tall inside it look familiar.

What the fuck?

My nostrils flare as my fingers ball into fists, gripping the towel like my life depends on it.

I need to get dressed before I overreact. I need to check my fucking room to make sure no one is here because I sure as fuck threw them through my window last night. I know I did.

Using my magic, I drop the towel and swiftly slip into my underwear, a white top, and a loose pair of black joggers. I do a quick scan of my small space, confirming no one is hiding under my bed or tucked in my walk-in closet, before I finally let my shoulders sag, releasing the built-up tension.

My gaze circles back to the bright roses beckoning me closer, and my lips purse as I try to contain the desire to touch them.

I fail.

Hovering by them, my index finger runs over the delicate petals, making my heart sing as my earth magic flares to life.

Fuck.

My chest aches with a tension that only worsens with every second I stare at them.

A lot of shit went down because of Raiden, and these link back to him. They offer him access to my room. I don't know how the fuck he managed to get inside here after I tossed them out in a fit of rage last night, but here they are.

My instinctive reaction is to toss them to their same demise, but the magic swirling inside of me pleads with an intense fury not to.

I'm torn.

Again.

At the hands of these men.

Raiden. Cassian. Brody. Kryll.

All so different, yet all equally under my skin. There's no denying it any longer.

Four men, even more feelings.

They're my fucking kryptonite. Just like Nora, my father, and even Flora, but in a different way altogether. I can't explain it, which is probably because no matter what I do to fight it, I find myself back here time and time again.

My kryptonites.

My kryptos.

My utter downfall.

Grabbing the vase, I take a step toward the window, struggling to control my emotions as they threaten to consume me. I shouldn't feel like this. Not when I'm alone. It's ridiculous.

I just need to throw these stupid thornless beauties out of the window and put an end to it.

Mind made up, I swing my window open, but before I take the final step to lean outside, a knock sounds from my door.

I pause, glaring at the offending wood like it holds the secret to my problems.

I'm too in my head to answer the door right now, especially when it's likely to be one of my Kryptos. That's the last thing I need. Settling on my decision to ignore it, my grip on the vase tightens when another knock follows a moment later.

Lowering the offensive flowers back to my desk, I decide throwing them out will only confirm I'm here, and that's the last thing I want to do. I just need to remain quiet, and they will eventually leave.

"Hey, it's Flora. I know you're in there."

My stress calms at the sound of her voice, and before I can think better of it, I hurry over to the door. I open it just enough to see her red hair and green eyes waiting expectantly on the other side.

"Hey," I breathe, and she offers me a small smile.

"Let me in."

"What?"

She cocks a brow at me and my eyes narrow, observing the bags in her hand. I can't tell what's going on, but I relent nonetheless.

Pulling her inside, I quickly shut the door behind her and she murmurs her thanks.

Wordlessly, she dumps the bags on my bed before planting her hands on her hips as she assesses my space.

"What's going on?" I ask, but she shakes her head.

"I don't know what you think you've done with this room, but it's lacking. Those cute roses are your only saving grace. Otherwise, I'd think it was a morgue or something."

My eyebrows rise to my hairline.

"Uh, I didn't realize I was letting you in to be judgy."

She turns to me with a grin. "Oh, if you think this is judgy, you haven't seen anything yet." All I can do is gape at her. She must sense that she's caught me completely off-guard because she turns to face me properly as her smile softens. "We're having a sleepover."

"Sleepover? But it's not Friday."

She shrugs, digging into one of the bags to pull out a bag of candy. "I know, but Brody said you needed me. So, I shifted it to now."

"Brody did what?" My head rears back, confusion racing through my mind as she beams at me.

"He didn't offer an explanation, but…"

"But?"

"I could read the sincerity coming from him," she offers, tapping her temple to confirm her magic is what made that assessment.

My heart warms against my will. I refuse to acknowledge how it makes me feel that he went in search of my friend to be here for me when I can't seem to accept him doing the same thing.

Shaking my head, my shoulders begin to relax, and I didn't even realize they were coiled so tight. "This sleepover is supposed to be for you. That's why I agreed in the first place."

"For me?" Her nose crinkles in confusion as I nod.

"I could sense something was off with you after the weekend."

Her smiles are her expressions. I can read her by her mouth, and it's only confirmed more when her smile drops, etched in sadness.

Clearing her throat, she tucks a loose tendril of hair behind her ear as she peers at me. "How about we make this for both of us then? It feels like we've both had a lot going on."

I scoff. "That feels so vague yet so accurate all at once," I admit, making her lips curl up a little again.

"Agreed. Now, help me set this stuff up." She sweeps her hand over the bed, indicating the bags she brought in, and I nod, silently following her order.

Strangely, it's almost therapeutic handing the reins over to someone else, not having to think as she throws an array of items at me, specifying exactly where she wants them.

Throws and fluffy pillows scatter across my bed, adding a splash of pastel yellow and lilac to the otherwise ‘morgue-like' room. She strategically lays out face masks, hand masks, and even feet masks on my nightstand while I pile chips, candy, and popcorn in the middle of the bed, ready for us to dive into.

What catches me by surprise the most is the small white box she sticks to my ceiling. Before I can question her on it, the familiar menu screen of The Office projects onto my far wall.

"Wow."

"Right? This was Arlo's idea. I think it's because he thought it might earn him an invite," she states with a roll of her eyes.

"Poor guy. Excellent idea, though." I take stock of my room. It barely looks familiar, especially as she closes my window, draws my curtains closed, and drapes a string of fairy lights over them. "Is there anything you didn't think of?"

"Food, but Brody said he would bring pizza."

As if hearing her admission, a knock sounds from my door. Pressing my lips together, I edge toward it with caution, finding a stack of four pizza boxes thrust in my direction. Brody's head appears over the top with a nervous smile on his lips.

"I wasn't sure what to get, so I got you a mixture," he explains, shoving them closer.

"Thank you."

"It's just pizza," he mutters, his nerves still visible in his eyes.

"Not just for that."

His smile spreads further across his face, victory flashing in his eyes, and it's the sexiest I think he's ever looked. Leaning forward, trying to avoid crushing the pizza boxes, my lips press against his without a single thought.

It's small, but the warmth that explodes through my body is huge.

His hand cups my cheek, burning me even brighter, but all too quickly, he takes a step back.

"Have fun, Dagger," he breathes, offering me a salute before he disappears from view.

Balancing the pizza boxes with one hand, my fingertips ghost over my lips as I stare at the empty spot.

"Stop hoarding the pizzas," Flora hollers, pulling me back to the present.

Kicking the door shut behind me, I slump on the bed, strategically placing the pizza boxes between us. I reach for a slice of classic margherita while Flora delves into the meat feast. We're three slices deep when she clears her throat.

"So, who wants to go first?" She clicks a remote, starting the next episode of The Office as I point at her.

"You. Definitely you. You're always here for me, and I want to offer you the same."

She gives me an appraising look. "Who knew you could be so cute and sweet under all of that harsh exterior?" she muses, earning a glare, but she doesn't acknowledge it.

"Don't tell anyone," I relent, making her snicker.

"Pinky swear." Silence descends over us as she looks off toward the twinkling lights. It takes everything in me to remain quiet, giving her a moment to think until she finally blurts it out. "He kissed me."

My eyebrows rise. "Arlo?"

"Yeah."

"That's fantastic, right?" They're step-siblings, long in love before their parents decided to start bumping uglies, and that's not her fault.

She shrugs. "I don't know. In the moment, it was everything; even now, my body reacts to the memory, but just as quickly as it started, it stopped. He left immediately and hasn't spoken a word about it, and I don't really know what to do." That little shit.

"I'll fight him."

"I'm sure you would," she snickers, shaking her head at me.

"The least I could do is cause him a little pain," I push, considering how best to do it, and she sighs.

"I don't know. I can see the pain in his eyes already."

Well then. Looking at her, I see the nerves flickering in her expression. "But you can't bring yourself to ask him," I murmur, earning a nod as I speak her truth. "Men," I grumble with a sigh, earning another burst of laughter.

"Yes, plural, definitely in your case," she muses, effectively redirecting the conversation, and I let her.

"I don't even know which one of them is the worst." I slump back against the headboard, certain there's no room for any more pizza in my stomach.

"Definitely Raiden or Cassian," she declares, and I scoff.

"That's accurate."

I feel her eyes on me, assessing, searching, until she finally just asks. "What's changed this week?"

Peering at her out of the corner of my eye, I sigh before I unleash everything. The trial, Vallie, The Council, Raiden, Nora. Everything.

"I'll fight them," she blurts, using my words, and I grin. "All of them," she adds, nodding in agreement with herself. "You might need to help me because we both know I'm lacking, but?—"

"We're good. I think I'm struggling with the reality that I care." I don't know where the words come from, but they floor me nonetheless.

"About?" She knows, I can see it in her eyes. She just wants me to say it.

"Them." It's barely more than a whisper.

"You're blushing." Her pointed finger is aimed at the heat I feel in my neck, and I turn away from her as if that's going to make a difference.

"I am not."

"If you say so," she mutters, and I pretend I'm focused on the screen. "It explains why Vallie was a bitch at lunch," she adds, effectively earning my attention again.

"She's back?"

"Like she never left. I wouldn't have even known if you hadn't just explained."

"What did she do?"

"Nothing different from usual. She overused that dumb nickname for Raiden that makes bile burn my throat, but it was excellent. Raiden threatened to destroy her." Her hands are animated as she giddily explains everything that happened, then her face suddenly drops. "He may have also said some things."

"Some things?"

"Like that her father is dead."

Fuck. Of course he did.

"How delighted was he to share the fact?" I murmur, my nails biting into my palms as I exhale slowly, and Flora snickers.

"Too much. Although, is it too much when it's still a classic expectation from Raiden at this stage?" she asks with a quirk of her brow, and I scoff.

"Does that mean there's a psycho vampire bitch on the hunt for me now?"

Flora's nose crinkles as she smiles at me. "He didn't mention your name, but even if it wasn't you, I think we would find you at the end of her wrath anyway," she admits, and I hum in agreement.

At least now she actually has a reason to put a target on my head, I guess. But one fact remains, and it lingers deep into the night, swirling in my mind on repeat. Somebody has to destroy her.

And all I can hope for is that I will get to do the honors, just like I did with her father.