Page 24 of The Bleak Beginning

I lean against the wall, suddenly feeling dizzy. “But I don’t want any of this. I just want to get through school and—”

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Sutton interrupts. “You’re part of this now, whether you like it or not. The sooner you accept that, the better equipped you’ll be to handle what’s coming.”

“What’s coming?” I ask, confused. Hadn’t I already been put through enough?

Sutton’s eyes dart up to my face before quickly looking away. “The games, of course.”

Questions swirl in my head. Was I truly a Legacy? And why had my father never mentioned it before? Sutton had made it seem as though we held great importance and influence in the world. Money. Power. It was hard to believe, considering I grew up in a modest home that was clean, but nothing special. It certainly wasn’t the grand estate my last name seemed to imply. But then again, maybe that’s why my dorm room here felt like a palace when I arrived. There were so many questions without answers, and thinking about them too much made my head throb.

“So what were you doing tonight?” I ask Sutton as we walk back across campus, hoping to take my thoughts away from the chaos in my mind. “A late-night art session?”

“We were working on an art project,” she replies. “We got so caught up in it that we lost track of time completely.”

We?

A pang of envy washes over me. It must be wonderful to have friends who share the same passions. The closest thing I had was my sister Clara, but even she would start to lose interest whenever I talked about my love of plants for too long.

I kick a loose pebble. “Can you tell me about it?”

Sutton wraps her arms around herself, whether from the chill or discomfort, it’s hard to tell. “It’s just a project.”

“Are you one of those artists that doesn’t allow anyone to see their work before it’s finished?” My grin is playful.

She gives a noncommittal shrug and avoids making eye contact with me. “You know how it is. Sometimes ideas come to us at the most unexpected moments.”

Sutton’s evasiveness only piques my curiosity further. I’m about to press her for more details when she abruptly changes the subject.

“I’m going to head to the dining hall for a late-night snack. Want to come?” she asks, her tone suddenly brisk.

I shake my head. “Nah, I promised my roommate We’d have a girl’s night in.”

The lines around her mouth tug, not sure what I mean but going along with it anyway. “Alright. I’ll catch you later then.”

As we begin to go our separate ways, her toward the dining hall and me toward my dorm building, she suddenly calls out my name. I turn back to face her.

“Make sure you stay alert when you’re near the Legacies.”

“Why? Are they dangerous?”

Sutton lets out a humorless laugh. “Dangerous? Not most days. But they’re not your friends, Alex. Remember that.”

I nod slowly, trying to process her warning. As I watch her disappear into the darkness, her words echo in my mind. TheLegacies aren’t my friends. But then again, who is? I was all alone here at Altair.

Back in my dorm room, I find my roommate Dolores sprawled out by the window, content in her pot.

I sigh, shaking my head. “I think we’ve gotten ourselves into something way over our heads,” I mutter down at her, grabbing the curtain to close it.

The warm light from a nearby window spills into my room, casting an eerie glow. I freeze as my eyes focus on a figure in the window of the dorm next to mine. A sudden realization about the source of the light hits me like a gust of wind, leaving me clinging to the curtains.

Bishop is completely shirtless across from me in his room.

My gaze drops, unable to resist the temptation of taking in his half-naked physique. Every inch of him is sculpted and chiseled, from his defined arms that flex with each movement to his taut abs that peek out from beneath the waistband of his sweatpants. The sight is like a masterpiece, a work of art crafted by the gods themselves.

A defiant warmth crawls across my skin, causing me to almost jump out of my own flesh. Suddenly, he tilts his head down and to the left, his jaw flexing with strength and determination. I can't tear my eyes away from him, even as a tingling sensation spreads through my body like tiny electric shocks across my skin.

All I want to do is look away, close the curtains and block out his piercing stare and enticing body, but I feel frozen in place. His too-handsome face breaks into a slow, deliberate smirk and I'm unable to move. His chiseled features twist into a calculated grin and I know he’s caught me checking him out, yet I still can't look away.

It's as though I'm trapped in a trance, only breaking free when he suddenly pulls the curtain closed, blocking me from his cruelexpression that guarantees a never-ending cycle of torment and agony.

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