Isobel wrenched away. “Don’t touch me.”
“Why? You let everyone else touch you.” Wallis suddenly looked hurt, and Isobel suddenly itched to slap her just like Moses suggested she should.
There weren’t even cameras watching the dorm entrance, so the act was all for nothing. Maybe Wallis spent so much time pretending it was hard to turn it off.
Instead of reacting, Isobel flung open the door again and walked inside, pausing at the threshold to the living room, with Wallis holding open the door and peering after her.
Reed and Gabriel were standing at the other end of the hallway, heads bent together as they looked at Gabriel’s phone. Niko and Cian were lounging about the common room, game controllers in their laps. Both of them looked up at her, but Niko dismissed her almost instantly.
“Wallis wants to come in,” Isobel announced, her tone wiped of emotion.
“Tell her to kindly fuck off,” Niko muttered, eyes still on the TV screen.
He had said it lowly enough that it was more like he was talking to himself rather than giving her an actual instruction, so she glanced to the other side of the hallway, to where Reed and Gabriel had looked up from the phone.
“No,” Reed said. “Theo is busy.”
“Theo is busy,” Isobel relayed to the girl still hovering in the doorway, who could hear Reed just fine. “Sorry.”
“Busy with what?” Wallis pressed, managing a pout and a pleading blink of her pretty, glitter-outlined eyes.
“Busy with what?” Isobel asked, glancing back to Reed, her fingers twitching into fists.
Reed’s lips twisted in a smirk. “Go ask him yourself, Carter. He’s in his room.”
“I guess I’ll go check,” she muttered, barely even directing the words to Wallis.
She slipped into Theodore’s room after knocking softly on the door. He was sitting on his bed, kicking off his shoes and looking as annoyed as she felt.
“She’s getting pushier,” he growled, his eyes flashing dark as they dipped over her, his nose wrinkling. “Did she seriously touch you?”
“Barely.” Isobel leaned back against the door, crossing her arms.
Theodore had already lost his sweatshirt, his clothes tossed haphazardly around the room. He tore off his socks, and then jumped up, pacing toward her, the muscles in his chest and neck twitching and pulsing like he was seconds away from tackling her to the ground like Niko did in their training sessions.
As soon as he reached her, he stopped, holding out an arm, his expression unhappy.
“Hug, and then we discuss what to do about the sleepover,” he said.
She swallowed. “You took half your clothes off.”
“Illy.” His voice was gravelled, his expression lit by a troubled darkness. “Hug.”
She swallowed, stepping into him, her arms lifting hesitantly to wind around his waist. The rigidness in his posture softened, but he didn’t hug her back. He brushed his cheek against the top of her head, and she fisted her hands against his muscled back to hide the sudden tremble in her fingers. His skin was molten, his heat digging into her muscles and making her sag against him with a thin whimper.
“You should stay,” he whispered. “For the bond, and because we won’t actually let you leave.”
“I can’t hide from Eve in Dorm A forever,” she muttered against his sternum, her lips brushing his skin. He tasted like sweat and sweetness and she licked her lips to savour the combination. It was weirdly addicting. “She’s back for good, isn’t she?”
“That’s what Mikki said,” he grunted, his hands finally winding around her, brushing up and down her spine, smoothing over invisible wrinkles in her dress.
His grip settled in the dip of her waist, dragging her tight against his body, and then he was quickly stepping away, shaking his arms out agitatedly. “I’ll go deal with Wallis. Want to lock yourself in my bathroom for a while?”
“Literally more than anything,” she admitted. “Is that okay?”
“Steal whatever clothes you need and take as long as you want. I’ll sort out a way for you to stay here tonight that won’t cause any bullshit rumours, okay?”
“You’re my hero.” She grinned at him, marvelling at the tinge of colour that popped up in his cheeks before he yanked his sweatshirt back on, ignoring the rest of his clothes as he left the room.
She swiped a T-shirt and pair of boxers from his wardrobe, ducking into his bathroom. She just stood there for a small, private moment, marvelling over the beautiful, flowing design and the curved shower with the multiple sprays. Luxury had never really impressed her. It had always been her normal. But for two years now, she had been sleeping on the floor and sharing a bathroom with a clique of Omegas who all hated her. It was strange how quickly her “normal” had become something else.
She pulled off her clothes and turned the shower on full blast, stepping beneath the spray and running her fingers across the glittering tiled wall. She felt safe in there … which was stupid.
She wasn’t safe anywhere.
Her eyes closed against the tears that threatened to spill over, blocking out the view of her scars.
“I wish I knew how to help,” a soft voice whispered, forcing her head to jerk up.
The apparition of her mother was back, leaning against the bathroom counter.
Isobel quickly shut off the water, stepping out and wrapping a towel around herself. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before falling back against the wall opposite, simply staring into the familiar, beautiful eyes of Caran Carter.
“My baby girl is changing,” her mother noted, a sad smile curving her lips. “I’m here, so you must be scared, but you’re wearing it so calmly.”
“Yeah, well.” Isobel laughed humourlessly. “I’ve been practising.” Her short laugh died, and she sucked in a deep breath. “Mom, what the heck are you?”
Caran looked down at herself, holding up the sleeve of her dressing gown. “A remnant,” she said, still with that gentle smile. “I’m sorry, Illy. I can’t be anything more.”
Isobel swallowed, fighting back tears again. “What happened to you, Mama?”
For a moment, the apparition wavered, Caran’s face flinching so violently that it seemed she was about to wink out of existence, but then she settled, her expression smoothing out. “What did you say, Illy?”
Isobel frowned, hugging her still-damp arms around herself. “I asked what happened—”
Her mother was shaking her head, pulling a finger to her lips. “He doesn’t like people to upset us. You can’t ask us that.”
“What? Who are you talking about?”
“Illy.” Caran’s hands hovered over Isobel’s shoulders, but they didn’t feel like anything, not even a change of temperature or a whisper of air. “I’m safe now. I’m okay. Just like all the other remnants.”
“But how are you here? How am I seeing you?”
There was a soft knock on the door behind Isobel, but she ignored it, imploring her mother, trying to lay her touch over the ghostly hands that covered her shoulders.
“I’m not.” Caran smiled again, pointing to Isobel’s forehead. “I’m here.”