Page 8 of Sinful Storms

Exhaling, I let my eyes fall closed, my mind stilling. Breathe. Take a drag. Exhale.

Footsteps echoed in the stairwell. I gritted my teeth. There was only one person it could be because Quinn was asleep in her bed, and it was the person I least wanted to see. Prefectpatrols were a nightly event, but only one of the prefects had ever discovered this place.

“If you want to be more discreet, I’d suggest smoking that closer to the window. Or the space where the window used to be, at least.”

I lifted my hand, giving Tristan the finger without bothering to open my eyes. He chuckled, and I felt the brush of his blazer as he sank down next to me, invading my personal space without a care in the world. Before I could come up with a cutting remark, he plucked the joint from my fingers.

My eyes flew open in time to see him rise to his feet and take a long, exaggerated drag, somehow managing to smirk as he did so.

“Give that back!” I jumped to my own feet, stretching up to reach the joint, but he easily held it out of my reach.

“Now, now, Aria. What kind of head boy would I be if I didn’t confiscate contraband items?”

I hated him. Truly hated him.

“Give. It. Back.”

He obnoxiously exhaled into my face, and I stamped on his foot. Unfortunately for me, unlike him, I’d changed out of my uniform. I was wearing fleecy lounge pants and a hoodie, complete with slipper boots, and therefore, I was unable to maim him with my soft soles. Instead, I got a laugh as he twisted away from me.

“Can’t quite reach?”

I gripped onto his wrist, halting his movements, and he turned back to face me. His gaze flicked down to my hand on him, then back to my face, and his brows lifted.

“Do you know how many infractions you’ve racked up tonight, little scorpion?”

I gritted my teeth. “Not my name, and I thought we’d already been through this. You’re not as pure and golden as you make yourself out to be.”

Tugging his wrist out of my grip, he brought his hand up, curling his fingers around my throat.“Open wide like a good girl.”

My jaw dropped of its own accord because I was too stunned to speak. What the fuck was happening?He inhaled the joint again, stealing even more of my precious supply.

Then, he lowered his head, sealed his mouth over mine, and exhaled.

I breathed in automatically. My mind was screaming at me to get away, far, far away, but all I could concentrate on was the sweet smoke clouding my senses, the warm press of fingers around my throat, and the hot mouth sealed over mine.

Until he dared to swipe his tongue against mine, and the sudden rage that swept over my body galvanised me into action.

“What the fuck!” I screeched, ripping his hand away from me and leaping back, pressing my spine into the wall as I stared at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, what the actual fuck,” he muttered, staring down at the joint, disgust written all over his face. Without another word, he launched it at the crumbling opening where the window had once been. It hit the wall, dropping to the floor, where it bounced off the stone area that had made up the original fireplace and rolled onto the wooden boards. With an angry growl, Tristan stalked out of the tower, his footsteps echoing off the walls as he jogged down the stairs.

I dived for the joint, needing it more than ever after…that. Whatever that had been. It had rolled into the gap between two of the ancient floorboards, and crouching down, I carefully hooked my nail underneath it to fish it out.

One of the boards shifted incrementally. Temporarily forgetting about my joint, I flexed my fingers against the wood. This tower was ruined, forgotten, the original entrance blocked up years ago, but I’d always felt that what was left of it was solid. If the floor was about to start giving way…

The board creaked but didn’t move. Okay. The floor was safe. Probably. I tapped my knuckles on the board, just to make sure. Then I moved, tapping again at the other end to be doubly sure.

My brows pulled together as I stared down at the ancient wood beneath me. Something wasn’t right.

Lowering myself down so my face was hovering above the floor, I tapped again. Then, I moved back to the other end of the board and tapped again. I repeated this with the floorboards on either side. Every time I tapped, it sounded hollow…except at one end of the original board.

My curiosity was piqued. Shuffling across the floor to the edge of the board, I carefully pried it upwards.

The nails held it in place until I added more pressure, and then, with a creak, the floorboard gave way.

I stared down at the unexpected sight, unable to breathe.

The moonlight illuminating the ruins threw shadows across the circular space, but the silvery light dipped into the void beneath the boards.

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