Page 7 of Wraith

Ciaran, standing off to the side, shifted uncomfortably. His arms were crossed tightly over his chest, his gaze flickering between me and the others. His jaw clenched briefly before he looked away, as though refusing to engage but equally unable to distance himself from what was happening.

The dusty aisle stretched ahead like a bridge I couldn’t afford to burn, but I didn’t falter. My boots hit the edge of the stage with a sharp thud as I stopped short. My breath came fast, my chest rising and falling as I stared up at them, their expressions dripping with disdain.

“You think this is funny?” I spat, my voice trembling with anger.

Kael smirked, flipping his coin lazily into the air. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said with a grin. “Everything’s a game if you play it right.”

“I’m not your game,” I said, my voice rising. “I’m not your entertainment, or your punching bag, or?—”

Thorne shifted, swinging his legs down as he stood, now towering over me from his position on the stage. He tilted his head, his smirk deepening. “Then what are you, Lily? Enlighten us.”

His words hit like a slap, but I didn’t flinch. Instead, I stepped up onto the stage, my boots scuffing against the worn planks. The proximity didn’t intimidate me; it fueled me.

“You want to know what I am?” I said sharply, glaring at each of them in turn. “I’m the person who’s done. Done with all of this.”

Lucian raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering slightly as he leaned back in his chair. “Done with what, exactly?”

“With pretending I care,” I snapped. “That I want anything to do with you. You don’t want me here? Fine. But don’t think for a second that you get to keep doing this and expect me to stick around.”

Kael’s smirk wavered, his coin stalling mid-flip as he straightened. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” I said sharply, my voice carrying through the theater, “that maybe someday, I will disappear. Maybe this is your only chance to stop being the assholes you are. Because when I leave—whether I transfer, graduate, or just walk out one day—I will never look back. You won’t even have the privilege of an acquaintanceship.”

Thorne scoffed, stepping closer, his boots echoing against the wood. “You think you can just walk away?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous. “You don’t get to make demands, Lily.”

“I’m not making demands,” I said, standing my ground. “I’m giving you a choice.”

Ciaran’s sharp intake of breath broke the tension for a moment. His voice was quieter than the others, but it carried. “Lily, maybe this isn’t the way?—”

“Stay out of it, Ciaran,” Thorne snapped, not even sparing him a glance. “You don’t get to play the voice of reason now.”

Ciaran flinched, his lips pressing into a thin line as he stepped back, his shoulders tense. The way his gaze lingered on me, conflicted and strained, made something in my chest tighten. But I couldn’t let it distract me.

Thorne’s jaw tightened, his eyes darkening. “You don’t get to act like you’re better than us,” he snarled, stepping closer.

Before I could respond, he moved. His hand shot out, grabbing my arm with enough force to make me stumble. “You don’t get to act like you’re better than us,” he repeated, his breath fanning my face.

“Let go,” I said, my voice sharp and steady.

But his anger outweighed his restraint. In his rage, he pulled harder, his movements jerky and uncalculated. My footing slipped, my balance failing as I twisted to pull free.

Pain exploded at the back of my head as I hit the edge of the stage, my body crumpling to the cold, unforgiving floor. The world tilted, then went eerily still. The metallic tang of blood filled my mouth, and my vision blurred as their voices floated above me.

“She’s bleeding,” Aeron muttered, his tone flat as always.

Kael crouched beside me, his hand hovering over my shoulder. “We need to call someone,” he said, his voice tight with urgency.

“No.” Lucian’s voice was sharp, decisive. “She did this to herself.”

Kael’s head snapped up, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger. “Are you serious? She could be dying, Lucian! That’s a lot of blood.”

“She’s not our problem,” Lucian said coldly, rising from his seat. “Let’s go.”

Ciaran hesitated, his stormy eyes flickering over me one last time. Then, without a word, he turned and followed Lucian out. Aeron pushed himself off the stage, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he had all the time in the world. Kael lingered for a moment longer, his jaw clenched tight, before he stood and shoved his hands into his pockets.

The theater door creaked shut behind them, leaving me alone.

The cold floor pressed against my cheek as I tried to focus my vision. Everything blurred together—the dusty stage, the empty seats, the flickering lights above. My fingers twitched, but my arms felt like lead weights. More blood filled my mouth, making me want to gag.

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