Ah. “Shit.”
“What?”
“She’s in Omega Studies right now.”
We’d thought she would be safe with Roxy for one class, but I was already backing into the classroom to grab Ransom and Umbra. “Pull her out. I’ll text you with anything else.”
EIGHT
SHATTER
The Lincoln pack were coming back, and I had to be stronger than this.
I stared at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, at my eyes that were swollen from tears, my hair that had returned to its usual thick mane after a brief reprieve at the ball. Roxy had tried to insist on coming, but I’d begged her not to.
I needed to be alone in a stall and cry a bit. She had already seen me cry over this.
How many more times before I became a burden?
I had to sort myself out.
My heart ached for the way I was feeling.
I tried to hold my head high and walk back to the classroom but I had to take a break along the way, stopping and pressing a palm against cool brick walls.
“Roxy’s going to have thrown away all the pictures. So, it’ll be fine. You won’t have to see them ever again.”
Oh.
Oh no.
I stopped, then turned around, fists balled at the roots of my hair, hoping the pain would help me fight the tears.
Wrong train of thought. Now all I was doing was thinking about the pictures?—
“No. No, no, no. You’ll be fine. You can do this. You can face them all.” I took a shaky breath, trying to fight the quiver of my lips and the burning tears. “You can’t be gold pack, and have a dark bond, and go back in there crying. It’s too much. It’s stupid.”
With one final, painful squeeze of my hair, I dropped my hands. When I spun on my heel, ready to try, I crashed straight into what felt like a solid wall.
I staggered back with a squeak, catching myself on the worn stone wall so I didn’t land on my backside.
I blinked up, registering a form-fitting suit as I tried to get my bearings. “Sorry, I didn’t?—”
“Shatter Kingsman?” The voice was low and rough, and when I looked up at him, I did a double take. I hadn’t seen him before—and I definitely would have remembered if I had.
He was an intimidatingly tall alpha, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. Despite being dressed in a suit like faculty members often were, his black hair was shaggy, tumbling into dark hooded eyes. His skin was pale, and his face was lean with high, sharp cheekbones. There was a deep scar cascading down the left half of his face, cutting into his brow and reaching almost to his chin.
“You’re…?” I asked, unsure. I looked down to see a folder in his hand.
“Mr. Sato, new assistant to the Dean. I was coming to fetch you from class. I have a few questions about your admission papers.”
“Admission papers?” I asked, my mouth going dry. “They’re uh… sorted.”
Dusk had sworn they were.
“If you don’t mind, we can discuss this in my office.”
I frowned, eyes darting down the hallway to where my Omega Studies class waited. “I’m really not supposed to…”