Page 43 of Lovely Deceit

An Elder takes my elbow, leading me down the set of curved stone steps that I came up not that long ago. He guides me into the main hall, then up a set of stone steps to a second level where he tells me to wait outside of a room.

I can only glean from Leo’s outburst that whatever the Deceit Test is, it isn’t good. One step forward, two steps back. What is with these Knights and always wanting the upper hand?

Alaric, in all his handsomeness, ascends the steps next. He catches my eye briefly, but I peer away, leaning my crutches on the wall next to me. These stone stairs are going to be the death of me.

In the next instant, the thunder of footsteps clamoring up the stairs calls both of our attention. I half expect it to be Oliver, but it’s not. I recognize Alaric’s father right away.

His nostrils flare as he approaches his son. “Those were my hard-earned holdings.” He cocks his arm back and punches Alaric, his beautiful face whipping to the side.

I should feel bad. I should have some sort of remorse for the way the crack against Alaric’s cheek echoes down the hall or the way his stunned expression seems to be permanently affixed to his face. But I’m finding it difficult to be a good person at present, considering recent events.

Alaric doesn’t even flinch, doesn’t even bring his hand to his face. “I’ll get those shares back and then some.”

I shake my head at the fact that the Elders gifted themselves as Alaric’s punishment. Their orders weren’t followed, but it was me he deserted.

I shouldn’t have expected anything less.

“Make sure that you do,” his father spits before turning, completely ignoring my presence as he leaves.

I chance a glance in Alaric’s direction and find his jaw tense with the painful sorrow etched across his features, his shoulder propped against the wall for support. That’s when I feel a tiny bit of guilt. Alaric was there for me during my panic attack. He largely stood up for me, even when Leo was being a pest. If he had to give up shares to the Elders, I wouldn’t be surprised if it equaled a million dollars or more.

I guess cash is the only thing that spurs these guys to act. More cash means more power.

“How much money did you lose?”

“I don’t care about the money,” he says, his voice treading the line between boredom and another emotion I can’t pinpoint.

“Your father does.”

“Obviously.”

His tone irks me. “I don’t think it was a fair punishment at all.” I cross my arms. “Don’t get me wrong, I couldn’t care less that you lost money. What I’m confused about is why the Elders benefited from my complaint.”

He holds my gaze with his striking green eyes. His perfectly styled dark brown hair has only one tendril out of place from his altercation with his father. The longer he stares at me, the more I remember the Alaric before he let me down. If I were to pinpoint the core of my argument against him, it would be that he didn’t even care enough to see if I was okay after the fact.

That will never be right in my book.

The door to my left opens, and I knock my crutches over in surprise. A Knight tells us to enter before my heart rate is even beating normally again.

Alaric bends to pick up my crutches. “I can get it.”

“So can I,” he answers before putting them in my hand. I expect him to pull away but he doesn’t. He places his hand on my own and leans into my ear. “Just tell the truth.”

A shroud of fear envelops me. Telling the truth is my biggest concern right now since I’m living a life built from lies.

He enters the room, and I pull myself together before following. My hands shake a little on the grips, but I get myself to the entryway and then stop again. There are two cells on either side of the room—round, rusty pieces of metal spanning from ceiling to floor. Alaric is walking into the one on the left. The Knight who walked Alaric inside tells him to take off his jacket and undo his shirt.

My professor locks gazes with me. Obviously this is not the right time or place to find anything sexy, but the way he keeps my gaze as he disrobes forms a knot in my stomach.

He unclasps the buttons on his shirt, revealing his toned chest and abs. The Knight begins to place round, rubber discs on his upper pecs and abs. It looks like some sort of medical device with wires connecting to a machine.

“This way, Fledgling Astor,” another Knight grunts at me. I turn to find this Knight with the same machine in his hand, wires neatly tied and put away.

My heartbeat ramps up as the warning bells go off in my head, but I have no choice.

This is happening.

I follow him into the dank cell, the musky smell tickling my nose. If I had to guess, I’d assume this room isn’t used very often.

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