Page 40 of The Ordeals
‘Don’t,’ I whisper to him. ‘Alden, no.’
The sound of scrapes and thuds echoes from Alden’s room and his hand twists around mine, as though he is unconsciously forming a fist.
‘The cowardly bastard …’ he mutters darkly. ‘I would have been asleep in there.’
I reach up, fasten my fingertips around his jaw and pull his head sharply towards me. ‘But you weren’t. You’re here, with me. Let them take what they like – better to ransack your room than your life.’
He growls, deep in his throat, and I feel it through every inch of me. ‘If they steal from me …’
‘Alden. I am not just saying this to stop you from opening that door and getting me killed. I don’t want you to die.’ As I say this, I realise it’s true, that this is more than me protecting my own interests. I genuinely do not want to see him hurt. Taking half a step so my body is flush with his, I tug on his chin again. ‘Eyes on me.’
I feel his heartbeat pounding with mine, his filled with fire and fury.
‘Eyes. On. Me.’
There are more sounds of rummaging, of furniture being shoved and thrown before footsteps sound again on the landing, eventually heading for the staircase, and departing. Silence, heavy and hot, wraps around Hope Hall.
And I realise we’re still staring at each other.
My fingertips flutter from his chin to rest lightly, on his chest. His eyes are dark pools, burning into mine as he reaches up, closing his hand around my fingers. He leans his forehead down, resting iton mine, and I close my eyes, the world around us falling away. I can feel his heart, beating beneath my fingertips, and somehow, it’s more intimate than the kiss we shared in the bar the first day we met. His touch, his vulnerability, his beating heart … it’s like he’s cracked open a doorway into his soul and allowed me to hover on the threshold.
‘Sophia,’ he breathes.
‘Yes?’ I say, not daring to move, not wanting to.
‘You are not allowed to die. I forbid it.’
Then his lips gently brush mine, leaving a smouldering trail. He kisses the corner of my mouth, just like that night in the Morlagh, then along my jaw, and I’m afraid that if I move, he’ll stop. Sparks fill my veins as he moves back to my lips, kissing me tentatively, like it’s our first. For a moment, we stand there, lips touching, breathing softly. It’s so still, so quiet, I almost believe I’m imagining it.
With a low exhale, he releases my fingers and steps back, breaking the spell. ‘I have to check if they’ve taken anything. If they’ve taken something I had in my keeping.’
My heart clatters and I want to reach for him; I want to live in that moment for longer. But he runs a hand down his face, gaze moving from the wardrobe to the window before striding across the room to shove the wardrobe away from the door. I wait, trying to get a grip on myself as he pushes it aside, throwing back my bedroom door and stalking for his room. I take a breath, pressing my fingertips into my eyelids as I come up for air, shaking off his lingering presence, which still whispers around me like a fever dream, before trailing after him.
His room is chaos.
The mattress is flipped, torn sheets and blankets scattered across the floor, books and papers ripped apart, chair upturned, a lamp on its side, shards of glass glittering darkly. This person picking us offmust have been pissed that I witnessed the latest murder. Even more so that they couldn’t lure us out and claim more kills, it seems.
I swallow and look at Alden. He’s silent, lethally so.
‘Locke, talk to me,’ I say quietly. ‘What did you have in here? Something precious? Is there anything missing?’
‘I …’ Alden blinks, as though coming back to himself and glances at me, then away. ‘Nothing of significance.’
I narrow my eyes, watching as he checks then rechecks the room, as though searching for an item that is missing. The last time he acted like this, averting his eyes from mine and dodging specific answers, was in the Morlagh. ‘Liar. Is it about that pale monster in the Morlagh? You never told me what you know.’
‘Damnit, DeWinter,’ he growls, rounding on me. I stand my ground and tip my chin up to meet his gaze. ‘Something of value, yes. Something important to me. The last letter from my father, a note, warning me not to go into the woods. It had information I need, something vital I’m still trying to piece together … It was all I had left of him from that night. It’s gone and in the wrong hands …’ He shakes his head, running his fingers through his hair. ‘Never mind. I will … I must sort out this mess. They won’t be back tonight. I’m sure they got what they came for.’
I fold my arms, regarding him. ‘And what’s that?’
He sighs. ‘Our sense of safety. We’re marked now, and they made sure we both know it—’
A scream rips through the walls, followed by shouting. Doors open, banging back, more voices echoing up the staircase. I take one last look at Alden then move towards the stairs, hearing more commotion, then the commanding voice of a professor. I suppose they’ve found the young woman’s body outside. When I turn back, I find Alden has closed his bedroom door, leaving me alone.
I barricade my own bedroom door with the wardrobe, but Idon’t sleep again all night. The smallest noise sends my pulse racing, heart thumping in the deathly quiet. But it’s not just the dead hopeful, or the murderer, or the fear that churns up my thoughts. It’s Alden Locke, and how he risked leaving the safety of his own bedroom. How he heard that scream raking the night air outside Hope, and his first thought was to protect. How he shut us both in here together, and for a moment, for a tantalising moment, peeled back every layer. That kiss … it’ll haunt me. If I had left my bedroom and sought refuge in a room on a higher floor, would I have been able to hide from the murderer? Or would I have been claimed as the next victim? As much as I hate to admit it to myself, Alden Locke may have saved my life tonight.
Alden with his deep brown eyes, his scent of cedar and something darker, smokier, that kiss that’s left me craving more, that I can still feel like a whisper on my lips … I shake myself, dispelling the molten dreams of him, the memory of the day we first met, and now, the moment we shared tonight.
It takes Alden less than a day to seek me out. I catch him regarding me at breakfast, lounging back in his chair as he raises his eyebrows at me, tilting his chin to the hallway outside. I stiffen, purposefully turning my back on him, pretending to listen to the other hopefuls discuss the latest murder. I’m already thinking about how close he was, our shared breaths in the dark, how I want more. But we’re both hopefuls here, rivals now he’s no longer my partner. I can’t forget that.
