Page 97 of Revenant

I slowly exhale through my nose. With everything that happened, I completely forgot to text Moriah. Guilt gnaws at my insides, along with the unfortunate memory of the attack I can’t seem to stop reliving. I’m grateful she wasn’t there, but I can’t keep ignoring her. My fingers unlock the screen before I can overthink it.

Me: Hey, yeah. I’m okay! :)

The exclamation point comes across too eager, and I hesitate, thumb hovering over the button to unsend it as I bite the inside of my cheek, tasting something metallic before I finally add—

Me: Just a lot going on. Been busy. :’(

Her typing bubble appears, disappears, then comes back again, and I find myself holding my breath as I watch it.

Moriah: You sure? You kind of disappeared on me. Did you guys find Lacey? I miss you!

Moriah: Can we talk?

Guilt settles low in my stomach, and I shift my weight, my bare foot catching against a tile. I want to say yes—tell her everything…even the parts I don’t understand yet—but the thought of trying to explain the shitstorm that is my life to a…human makes me second-guess myself.

Me: We did. & I want to, really I do. <3

Me: I’m just super behind in my coursework right now. It’s a mess.

I glance up at my reflection as I send it, catching a small smudge of mascara I don’t remember making. I wipe it away.

Me: Raincheck? Maybe later this week we can have a girls’ night?

Me: Once I get caught up?

The wait for her reply stretches longer than it should and I stand there holding the phone a little too tightly until it finally buzzes again.

Moriah: I wish you would let me help you, but ofc. Just don’t disappear on me again, okay? (: ily

My chest aches at that. She deserves more than whatever version of me she’s getting right now. I don’t mean to pull away, but once I get stuck in my own world, everything starts to feel like it can wait. It shouldn’t be this easy to lose track of someone I’ve started to care about, but I would never want to put her life at risk either.

Me: I won’t. Promise. <3 ilym

Moriah: See you in class!!

Slipping into my boots waiting for me by the door, I notice Koen finishing off a blood bag before tossing it in the trash. I try not to let the sight cause my stomach to recoil, but it’s no use. Koen grabs my bag off the lounge chair for me, while also handing me one of my scarves. My brows pull together. “What’s this for?”

He wraps it around my neck. “We don’t need anyone asking questions.” It finally clicks that it’s to hide the mark Eryx made, and I reprimand myself for not remembering, for not covering it up myself. How careless.

My smile is quick and unsure, but he doesn’t comment on it; instead, he swings the strap of my bag over his shoulder before placing a hand on the small of my back and leading me out the door.

Vampire speed never ceases to make me feel like I’m being plunged into a wormhole. The second Koen sets me on my feet, my legs wobble, and I have to hold onto him for stability. To my surprise, we’re not late; in fact, it seems we’ve arrived on time. Eldritch’s eyes sear into mine, and I hate that I need this class. And I hate that he’s the only one who teaches it even more.

Koen leads the way to some open seating a few rows down, and I’m shocked to see how thin the class has gotten. Maybe I’m not the only one who can’t stand the fucker. But it doesn’t matter if I drop this class or not—I’d still have to be subjected to his disregarding sneer in Botanical Alchemy.

What a joke my life is, truly.

Moriah sits a few seats down and shoots me a wink as we settle in. My heart lifts because she doesn’t seem the least bit put off that Koen and I have drifted into each other’s orbit.

Eldritch clears his throat, signifying the start of class. The hushed voices around him cease instantly, and it brings me back to the first day. When everyone was making comments and Pryce came to my rescue.

Oh how the mighty have fallen.

I look over my shoulder, scanning my peers with my heart in my throat, thinking he’s going to be here. But Eryx’s absence is refreshing, and though Pryce’s isn’t surprising, it’s starting to bother me.

Truth be told, I know we should have a conversation. At the end of the day, we’re stuck with each other, and I’d rather not live the rest of my life annoyed with his presence. Even if it’s like rubbing salt in a wound every time I see him.

“I trust that everyone did the reading and finished their ten-page paper on infant attachment and how nature versus nurture plays a role?” Panic floods my veins, knowing I definitely did not do that. I shrink down in my chair, already preparing myself for the beratement I’m going to receive at the end of class.