Page 89 of House of Lilith

It makes me stop midstep and look over my shoulder, my eyes drawn to the silhouette of the Lilith Tower behind my back. For one long moment, I just look at it. Then I decide.

First thing tomorrow, I’ll ask her brother for her number and I’ll text her to let her know I won’t be coming after all. That’s what’s best, right? For everyone involved.

Chapter 17 - Nyx

Nextmorning,Ifindmyself standing in front of my closet, wondering what I came there to do. Ah yes, I think as my gaze flits to my reflection in the door mirror. I’m still in the boxers and T-shirt in which I sleep, and I’m supposed to be getting down for breakfast.

But my mind refuses to pay any attention to the clothes hanging in my closet. Last night, I had this dream that startled me from sleep, the first to do it in ages. It was visceral and terrifying, for some reason featuring lots of skulls and horses. And that’s all I remember, but the terror I felt when I was having it keeps clinging to me, making my mind keep rushing to it.

When it’s not doing that, It keeps dragging me back into the Elevator, into the moment he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to his body. It makes my breath catch and my ears burn, just recalling it, the way it felt to have him so close — all rock-hard and like a fucking furnace — and it’s threatening to keep me stuck in a loop of trying to relive it in as much detail as possible.

A part of me can’t believe it, none of it. Not the part with me suggesting it and definitely not the part with him saying yes. I was drunk and I was a little out of it and there he was, His Hotness himself, with the eyes threatening to turn me into a fucking puddle beneath his feet. My heart pounds in my chest and my body floods with desire when an image pops into my head, of him moving to get closer with an intense look on his face, saying, “Tomorrow’s a long time from now.”

And it is and it’s not. It’s today, at five PM, which is only hours away. But at the same time, I don’t know how I’ll be able to survive until then.

As if to add to my torture, my eyes dart back to my reflection. I drag them down my chest, grimacing as I do. Slowly, I take the hem of my shirt and I lift it up, trying to picture his reaction when he sees me naked.

Cringing, I shut my eyes and turn my head away. Goddamnit, I think when I open them again and see the plain black bra I’m wearing.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t seem to picture girls he sleeps with in anything other than sexy lingerie. All lace and fishnets and halters.

I do have stuff like that, I think as I glance at my drawers. Mostly presents from Max though, I think, a whirlwind of emotions flooding me as soon as he crosses my mind — the fight we had in the courtyard last night, my sleepless night, all the calls and texts I’ve received from him today.

It made something inside me snap, the way he tried toliterallydrag me away from Howe. And while we fought last night, I had to force myself to keep looking him in the eye, this painfully lonely hollowness overwhelming my entire being.

Every moment since then has felt as if someone’s just pulled the ground from beneath my feet. Just yesterday, I thought I’d be spending the rest of my life with that man. Just yesterday, I was still building my whole life around him.

And that’s exactly why I can’t be thinking about it, at all, I tell myself.

If I do, I fear I’ll fall apart. And with the Games and Uncle, there are so many things hanging in the balance.

So I just need to make this as painless for myself as possible by any means necessary, be it eating a whole pack of ice cream in one sitting or getting myself a fuck buddy.

And I shrug it off, returning to my reflection and starting to carefully inspect myself. It was one thing to offer this to His Hotness while the booze was still doing its thing. It’s a whole other thing to be thinking about it in the light of day, being able to see, painfully clearly, all the reasons I might end up not finding him there after all. My skin, so pale compared to the gloriously tanned skin of those shifter girls. My figure, which couldn’t possibly be any further from curvy. And then there are the tits. The lack of them, that is, I think with a knot in my stomach. And it’s only accentuated by the fit of my bra, the way it puffs out a little in the middle.

I let out a frustrated groan, slamming my face into my palms. This is crazy. I can’t be doing this. I have to cancel.

Then it pops into my head and I lower my hands, rushing to open the top drawer. There’s that one piece that’s at least got some lace on it, doesn’t make me look so flat, andwasn’ta gift from Max.

Bingo, I think as I pull it out of the mess that is my bra collection. I look at it for a second, frowning and feeling stupid at the very thought of him seeing me in it, but the alternative seems to be worse. So I take my clothes off and I put it on, along with a matching pair of panties.

This is all the energy I’ll allow myself to waste on this, I say in a scolding internal voice. And I proceed to putting on one of my usual outfits, a baggy sweater and a pair of tights.

And just as I’m about to leave for the cafeteria, there’s a soft knock on my door. I stop midstep, my mind rushing to picturinghimoutside the door.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, I think as I struggle to get it together. He’s found out what room I’m in and he’s come to tell me he won’t be coming after all.

Fine, I decide as I blow out a breath and come to open the door. Utter and total humiliation, here I come. But it’s for the better, yeah, definitely for the better.

But when I swing the door open, it’s not him. It’s just one of Mother’s couriers. Wilhelm, I believe. I breathe a sigh of relief and offer him a smile.

He does a curt little bow, gives me my package and disappears.

As I close the door behind him, squinting at the little envelope attached to yet another luxurious ribbon, my initial relief turns into concern.

I’m scheduled to arrive later this afternoon. What reason would she have to send me stuff, today of all days?

The possibility hits me like a hammer across the head. My shoulders slumping and my throat closing, I go sit on my bed and I practically rip the note out of the little envelope.

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