Page 7 of Their Dark Rose

They won’t help me. Which means fighting is pointless.

I’ll have to find a way to save myself later. To get to my parents.

I might be ten, but I’m not dependent like the other kids in my private school. I already take care of my parents when they’re sick. I know how to make my breakfast and dinners all by myself.

Running away to Mommy won’t be a problem. In a few days, I’ll break free.

It’s nothing but a nightmare. And nightmares always end.

They have to.

CHAPTER ONE

Eight years later- present day

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

An involuntary groan rumbles in my chest. My hand searches around my nightstand blindly for the source of the incessant noise.

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” I whisper so I won’t be overheard. I’m not in the mood to face anyone now. “No need to buzz a million times to tell me it’s seven. We do it every goddamn morning, Mr. Cranky Clock.”

Bzz. Bzz. Bzz.

“Another wonderful day of homeschooling and being treated like a brat. How could I forget?” I complain.

Which is bullshit. I like being homeschooled. I like spending moments upon moments with my three grumpy godfathers. I’ve liked having one-on-one classes with them a lot more than I should lately.

But still…I was having such a nice dream.

I open my eyes, slamming the button on top. Putting an end to the unpleasant wake-up call Falk chose for me.

No more for this morning. The room’s quiet. Peaceful.

At fucking last.

“Little rose,” Finn, the youngest who isn’t as short-tempered as the other two, calls from outside my bedroom. He comes off as though he’s smiling, but also something else. Something dark, for sure. “I hope you’re up. Ignoring the clock on a Falk-day is never wise.”

I still side-eye the clock. Then the door. A snarl twists my lips, despite how my pulse picks up at Finn’s taunting voice.

Because as much as I enjoy our—mainly push—and pull, I enjoyed my dream more.

Where I lived in a good, peaceful world. A completely fictional one where my godfathers don’t hold a grudge and my parents love me.

It pisses me off to be ripped out of a dream like that.

“Five more minutes!” My raspy voice gives away how sleepy I am.

“Make it two.” Finn chuckles, a laugh matching the shift in his voice. “He’s in a mood.”

I pretend not to hear the mood comment. A mood for Falk can mean many things.

What I focus on is the time.

Two minutes is doable. Two minutes of my beautiful dream is a lifetime.

“Fine! Go away now!”

---