Page 123 of Shameless Royalty

I lean back in my chair, stretching out my legs and feeling the familiar ache in my muscles. The past couple of months at the Cunningham estate had been quiet ones. Without Connor there, I had nothing to do but exist, and I quickly realized I hated existing in a body that had spent years being weak. So I used the time wisely, using the gym on the estate and pushing myself harder than I ever had before.

The result? I’m leaner now, and stronger. Not built like the hulking monsters I see around campus, but I can hold my own. Not that I talk to anyone. I could. The opportunity is there and people have tried, but I’m not here to make friends.

I don’t belong here, not really.

The students at Willow Bridge are cut from a different cloth, raised in power, and bred for the kind of world I was never supposed to be part of. I see the way they move, the way they talk, the way they know they’re untouchable.

I don’t fit and I don’t fucking care.

I take another sip of my coffee, letting the warmth settle in my chest, and exhale slowly. It’s late—past midnight—but I don’t sleep much these days. Not that I ever did.

It’s not insomnia. It’s not my brain refusing to shut down.

It’s silence.

I got used to hearing Connor’s voice. To the teasing, the taunts, the fucking constant presence of him. Now, I just have my own thoughts.

I fucking hate my own thoughts.

Shaking my head, I set my mug down on the small table beside me and push to my feet, stretching my arms over my head. Ishould go to bed. I have class in the morning—marine biology, my first love, the one thing Idogive a shit about. I have no idea what strings Declan pulled, but I’m in the same year I was before they kidnapped me.

My life is so goddamn weird now.

I step back inside my dorm, closing the balcony door behind me.

It’s nice here. Too fucking nice. The bed is huge, the desk is sleek and modern, and the shelves are filled with books I didn’t even have to ask for. The walls are bare, but that’s on me—I don’t own anything personal, nothing to make this place feel like mine.

Maybe I should. Maybe I should put something on the walls or buy something that makes it feel like I actually live here instead of just existing in this space.

But then what? Then it feels permanent, and nothing in my life has ever been permanent. I sigh, running a hand through my hair, and turn toward the bed, ready to at least pretend I can sleep.

That’s when I hear a soft knock at my door.

I frown. No one knocks on my fucking door this late. For a second—just a second—my heart skips a beat. But then I shove the feeling down. Because it’s not him and it’s never going to be him.

I cross the room, my pulse slightly elevated for reasons I refuse to acknowledge. My hand tightens on the doorknob, and I force my face into something neutral before pulling it open.

It’s not him. Of course, it’s not fucking him.

Instead, I find my dorm mate, Aiden, standing there, his dark eyes meeting mine with the same unreadable expression he always wears. He’s taller than me, broader too, built like someone who could throw a solid punch and not feel a damn thing afterward. His dark hair is slightly messy like he’s beenrunning his hands through it, and he’s wearing a hoodie despite the warmth of the dorm.

He jerks his chin in greeting. “Hey.”

I arch a brow. “Hey.”

Aiden and I have lived together for two weeks now, and in that time, we’ve exchanged maybe a handful of sentences. It’s not that we dislike each other, we just exist in the same space, separate and undisturbed. He does his thing, I do mine, and that works just fine.

He leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms. “Mind if I play for a bit?”

It takes me a second to register what he means, but then I catch sight of the guitar case slung over his shoulder. He plays almost every night, sometimes softly enough that I barely hear it, other times loud enough that it fills the entire dorm. But never this late.

It doesn’t bother me. If anything, it’s one of the only things that makes this place feel less… empty. I shrug. “It won’t keep me up.”

He nods like he expected that answer, then pushes off the doorframe. “Alright. Night then.”

I nod back. “Night.”

He disappears down the hall, his door clicking shut behind him and I hesitate for a moment, listening.

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