Immortal Consequences(91)
“You can’t keep it from her forever,” Olivier whispered, voice wavering. “You know it isn’t right.”
“I know.” The muscles on August’s jaw leapt as he inhaled a sharp breath. “But she can’t know. Not now, at least. Not until after the Decennial.”
“Why?” Olivier pressed, surprising even himself with his bravery.
“We all have our secrets. You keep secrets from Emilio to protect him, don’t you? To keep him from getting hurt?” Olivier’s cheeks burned as the weight of August’s words settled upon him in a sudden gust. “So…let me do the same.”
“That’s—that’s different,” Olivier choked out, fumbling over his words. “I keep the truth about my memories from him because it’s my secret. My burden. But what you did involves Wren. It directly affects her.”
August shook his head, a pained expression on his face. “Olivier. Do not force me to become the villain.”
“Is that a threat?”
“No,” August replied, stepping closer. “It’s a plea.”
Looking back on it, Olivier wasn’t entirely sure what prompted his next response. Maybe it was the desperate look in August’s eyes or the tremor in his hands. Or maybe it was simply the fact that Olivier was, whether he wanted to admit it or not, unnerved by him. But whatever it was, he found himself nodding and placing a tentative hand on August’s shoulder.
“Okay,” he whispered. “I promise.”
August let out a shaky breath the moment the words left his lips. The tension in his face dissipated. His shoulders relaxed. And then he walked toward the door, hands fussing with his silver ring.
“Thank you, Olivier. I won’t forget this.”
“Let’s hope not.”
August paused by the doors. “And sorry about barging in…I’ll knock next time.”
Olivier couldn’t help but laugh.
“Somehow I doubt that.”
41
Wren
Wren was beginning to think that maybe she was in over her head. That her perfectly crafted existence in Blackwood was beginning to crumble, piece by piece, and all she could do was stand back and watch it disintegrate into a massive heap of nothing.
She could barely concentrate in class all week. All she could think about was her fateful trip into the Ether and the events that had occurred afterward. More specifically, her conversation with August in the Opal Chamber. She knew better than to trust him. Than to allow herself to cross the line between them. But something had changed…something she couldn’t quite understand. It felt like an unrelenting pressure. An unavoidable itch. She’d always felt weirdly connected to August, but this…this was different.
There had even been times in the past few days when she’d sworn she could hear August’s voice in her head. Him calling out to her. The familiar graveled rasp of his laughter. Honestly, she was beginning to think she might be losing her mind.
Throughout the years, there had been moments when Wren felt the line between them blurring. The wall slowly crumbling. But their relationship was one built on twisted codependence and morbid curiosity. Sure, she could admit that August made her feel alive. That his nagging presence breathed life back into her when she needed it most. But she couldn’t let herself fall for the illusion of something more.
August would never open up to her. Not in the way she needed him to. She felt it every time he looked at her—the torment of his past clinging to him, the tangled web of secrets trapped beneath the surface. And Wren knew that if she allowed herself to get too close, to expose her vulnerabilities to him, August wouldn’t meet her halfway.
He’d only pull her under.
She tried to ignore the feeling as she cut through the Main Yard, head down and hands clamped tightly over her textbooks. The plum-colored sky melted into a muted gray, the familiar silver glow taking over. Evening mist rolled through campus, obscuring her shoes in a light haze. Somewhere in the distance, the late-afternoon bell rang from Elysium Hall, signaling the end of the day.
A sense of dread settled upon her shoulders.
That shrill bell meant there was less than an hour left until the Decennial Ball. She had no interest in parading herself around the banquet hall—not with everything looming on the horizon. How could she make pleasantries and plaster a smile on her face when there was still so much uncertainty surrounding what had happened with Louise? She couldn’t help but feel like they were close. Like the pieces were slowly fitting together and all she had to do was open her eyes and read the answers written plainly in front of her.
She had to figure out what had happened. If not for herself—then for Louise. The poor girl had been so shaken up after what happened with the shadow creature. There had been a noticeable change in her. The spark behind her eyes had dimmed, replaced by an unfamiliar wariness. It wasn’t fair. Louise didn’t deserve to be crushed beneath this burden. She didn’t deserve any of it.
Wren came to a sudden halt when something in her periphery caught her attention.
Asphodel Hall.
No classes were held in this building—it mainly contained Housemaster offices and faculty-only lounge areas—but it was also where the infirmary was located.
Where the eliminated nominees were being held.
Students weren’t technically allowed to visit the infirmary. It was against the rules. But Wren knew that others had bypassed that rule—sneaking in after curfew. It was a bit of a hassle. The students who usually took the risk were those who were desperate to visit loved ones, unable to bear being apart for months on end.