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The figure shifts slightly, and a glint of metal catches the faint moonlight filtering through the curtains. A knife?

I scramble backward, pressing myself against the headboard. My pulse pounds in my ears as I open my mouth to scream, but no sound comes out.

The figure inclines forward, face still obscured by darkness.

“You little brat.”

Chapter 30

Lilian

I startle awake, a scream lodged in my throat. Disoriented, I struggle against the weight pinning me down, my wrists trapped above my head.

“Lil? Hey, it’s okay. It’s me.” Sebastian’s voice cuts through the haze of fear, his face coming into focus above me.

I blink, my surroundings slowly registering. The dorm room. Sebastian. Not the dark figure from my nightmare.

“You’re safe, princess. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his grip on my wrists loosening.

I let out a shaky breath, my body still trembling. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to surprise you, but then I heard you thrashing around. Nightmares again?” His brow furrows with concern.

I nod, not trusting my voice. The images still feel too real, too close.

Sebastian releases my wrists and gathers me into his arms, my head resting on his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat begins to calm my frayed nerves.

We lay in silence for a moment, his fingers gently combing through my hair. I try to focus on the soothing sensation, pushing away the lingering tendrils of the nightmare.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He presses a kiss to the top of my head, and I tilt my face up to look at him.

The tenderness in his gaze makes my heart ache. How can this be fake? How can he not care?

“Why are you here?” I ask.

“You didn’t write me back or answer my calls. I was worried about you.”

I point to my phone on the ground. Broken. Just like me.

“What happened?” he asks.

Is he really here?

“You lied to me.” I cling to him, unable to let go, no matter how much he’s hurt me. “You knew all along, and you didn’t tell me the truth about our families.”

His jaw clenches, a flicker of something—anger, frustration, resignation—passing over his face. “Who told you?”

“Does it matter? Is it true?” I search his eyes, desperate for him to deny it. To tell me, it’s all a misunderstanding.

He exhales heavily, his hand coming up to cup my cheek. “It’s complicated.”

I flinch away from his touch, sitting up. “Complicated? It’s a yes or no question.”

“Yes, our families have a history. But that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”

“Doesn’t it? How can I trust anything you’ve said, anything you’ve done? Was this all some game to you? Some twisted way to get back at my family?”

“No, Lil, listen to me—” He reaches for me, but I’m already off the bed.

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