I’m tired, cranky, and apparently slow.
“Maybe, you need to pull your head out ofthem,” she offers, and I glare at her, but she doesn’t bother to react to my stress, which instantly makes me calm down. I owe this girl a thank you treat for putting up with my shit. It’s safe to say this is my current addiction.
Am I engrossing myself in these books to avoid becoming dickmatized by the guys across the hall? Or to be more specific, their dicks? Definitely. Have I been holed up in here every spare moment I’m not in classes to avoid them? Yes. Why? I’m not entirely sure. From start to finish, the moment in Professor Drayker’s office was insanity. The territorial claim I felt over Rion left me breathless and I wanted to rip that damn woman limb from limb, but instead, I let them share me on her desk.
I should have felt used, like a ragdoll in a game I don’t know all the rules to, but instead, I felt like a fucking goddess, and I think that’s worse. I’m used to the former feeling, being out of my depth, but that wasn’t possible when they literally placed me on a pedestal between them and made me see stars.
It was more than that, though. It was the way Rion carried me back because my legs had forgotten how to work. It was how Kael didn’t piss me off with his snarky tongue, how he followed me into the office like we were a team. It was all toomuch, so I needed a distraction from my distractions, but for the first time, it’s benefiting me.
I’m making progress for once in my life. I’m actually spending my time trying to embrace the danger I’m in instead of burying my head in the sand and accepting the pain without trying to prepare or fight back. Not that the information I’ve absorbed isn’t enlightening. If anything, it’s scaring the shit out of me, but at least I’m not going in as blind as I was.
Each book we took from the library is a full write-up on the events that unfolded that year, complete with photos, and as frightening as it is, I need to see it. The first page shows an overall snapshot of The Vale with every member of the institutes present. When I reached the final page, I found a photo taken from the same vantage, but only a single group remained. All the sheets in between are riddled with chaos, uproar, and victory, but for those that fall, it’s a never-ending demise.
Among the carnage are noteworthy facts. In the first year, there were a lot of mind games, puzzles, just like Professor Grimm did in class, and it was more of a mental victory over physical strength, but by the tenth set of games, the blood was everywhere. Students were dying, the blood bath wasrising, but no one cared; victory was everything. Why? Freedom.
It seems when the games open up, those forgotten, embedded deep in The Vale, attempt to escape the control of The Sanctum. Not that it’s described like that, but I can see it in the eyes of the players and the smile of the winner. It’s a look and a feeling I’ve felt all of my life. I just happened to escape one cage to find myself in another. But the taste of pure freedom is out there.
By the forty-fifth set of games, the cost of freedom looked greater than ever. Some institutes found the fruits of their labor to be rotten and lost when only a single victor remained. That can’t happen to us. We must stay united, thirteen through and through, but I have to ask other students to trust in me even when I don’t seem to have anything to offer.
Raking my hand through my hair, I take a deep breath as I spy the book in Ocean’s hand.
“Those books are the only thing keeping me sane,” I admit, aware that the opening of The Institute Games is set to start in less than two hours.
“That may be true, but you need a break,” she insists, and I shake my head. The pointed look she offers is impossible to fight when she plants a hand on her hip.
“How about this? You give these books a break, and after the game we’ll head to The Hut,” she offers, and I frown at her.
“I’m struggling to see which one benefits you and which one is for me,” I grumble, squinting at her, and she rolls her eyes like I’m the dramatic one.
“Just agree,” she insists, and I frown.
“Losing and going to The Hut doesn’t sound fun,” I admit, and she waves me off.
“We’ll either celebrate our victory or drown our sorrows. It’s a win-win,” she decides, and the more I consider her words and stare at the pleading in her eyes, the more I feel myself waning. Maybe this is the gift I give to her for putting up with me.
“Please, Elodie,” she begs, clearly aware of the fact that I’m softening, and I groan.
“Fine.”
She squeals, quickly handing me the book back, and my gaze falls to the last page I was on. In the previous games, Institute Twelve won, and that’s why there’s no one there now. I run my thumb over the page, wondering how you would find yourself assigned to that Institute, especially when I’m in Thirteen because I did a bad thing.
“Should we eat first?” Ocean asks, cutting through my thoughts, and I blink up at her as my stomach clenches even tighter.
“I don’t know if I can,” I admit, and she scoffs.
“Queen, please, it wasn’t really a question.”
“What the…”My words trail off as I blink at the scene before me. The combat field has been completely rearranged. I have to blink a few more times to make sure I’m in the right place because nothing looks familiar.
The grass is sprayed in thirteen colors, all leading toward the middle, where what I can only describe as a huge-ass fort sits. The tall turrets framing the peaks of the building run in every direction, and it somehow manages to loom over me with a stroke of fear that I didn’t even get when I first arrived at Institute Thirteen, and that place is eerie as Hell.
Ocean links her arm through mine and we follow the crowd in our institute-issued uniforms to where the rest of Thirteen is already gathered.
My stomach churns for the one-hundredth time, but now the uncertainty of whether my mac and cheese is going to stay down or not is real. The feeling doesn’t get any better when Ocean all but drags me toward the trio of assholes waiting for us.
Thorne spots us first, but he doesn’t say a word;he just watches me through his dark hair, which falls over his eyes. It sends a shiver down my spine. The way he watches me, it’s like no one else, as if he knows my thoughts, feels my nerves, and sees into my soul.
I shake my head, trying to get him out, but the second I find a distraction, I’m locked in a stare-off with Rion. The wicked grin that curls his lips as he sweeps his tongue across it is sent straight from the devil. It’s like I can read his thoughts as he recalls the taste of me on his tongue.
