I try to scream, but I have no lungs.
My body tries to fight the bonds that have it tied to the dark. I pull and thrash but it just makes the knots tighter.
She’s in danger. Theo can’t do what she thinks she can.
Because of my mother. The image of mother’s face looms over me, and I see a red and black swirling mist pour from her eyes, her ears, her mouth.
Why is that so dangerous for Theo?
A trap?
Something waits for her in that mist, but the knowledge of ‘what’ slips through my fingers like sand.
Theo.
I focus everything I am into movement.
Open your eyes, Wes.
I’m so tired but I can’t stop.
Please, Gods, help me.
The darkness pushes, trying to force me into a retreat.
Theo.
Theo.
—Theo—
41
Donovan and I stroll into the gymnasium.
Lexi is scowling. “You’re late!” he barks.
Yeah, yeah, cry me a river, cuz.
I throw a wink at Sparkles, and she looks away, biting her cheek.
“Now we're finally assembled,” my cousin snaps. “We’ll be doing a Fake-ball round robin tournament today."
“Er, sir, don’t you mean ‘Fateball’?”
“No, Cox, I mean Fakeball.” He points a finger at her. “Most of you are nowhere near ready for the real thing. As houses still can’t mix, we’ll be in teams of six, Elites versus Ordinarii. Breakoff into groups and make sure you all have at least one freshman on your team.”
Jordan and Kayla immediately nab Cosmo.
I make a bee-line for Theo.
So does Donovan.
And Naomi.
We converge on her in a tight knot and Donovan slides a hand across Theo’s thigh. The hunger in his expression is matched by a very obvious boner in his sweatpants. My own hellhound stirs in response.
Want.
