Page 30 of Beauty's Monstrous Demons

Humming under my breath as I walk through the hall with my messenger bag over my shoulder, I know everything is going to go exactly my way.

CHAPTER 8

LORELEI

I’ve spent a few nights at Phenex’s apartment and it’s been incredible. Sometimes he and Samael blow my mind with orgasms, others they just hold me in my sleep. I have to go back to my apartment today, and I’m dreading it.

Phenex and Samael aren’t forcing me to, I just feel as if I should. I do live there, my descenting spray works now, my clothes are here, there’s no reason for me to avoid it.

Sighing, I find the front door to the room unlocked and cracked open, as are many of the dorms in this building. Opening it, I find Adares and Thorley cooking together in the kitchen. Their heavy gazes follow me as I step inside, and I make a point to shut the door fully.

I don’t understand this trend of leaving doors open. Maybe it’s because they feel safe enough to keep them that way, but I certainly don’t. The difference in privilege is huge between us. Locked doors are what keep me safe.

“Long time no see, stranger,” Thorley grunts. While the food smells good, I had a big lunch with Samael and I’m still full. Ihave no desire to dawdle with them. “Did you forget where you live?”

“Ah, no I didn’t,” I reply. “Is that a problem?”

“Whore,” Adares fake sneezes into his arm, making me roll my eyes.

“That’s cute. I didn’t know that monsters were as judgmental as humans are,” I say. Actually, I did because Valaria is a cunt. “Slut shaming is beneath you, as is assuming that I am one.”

“Assumptions are all I have because you’re never around,” he says, watching as I walk to my room and unlock it. The lock turns effortlessly, and my heart settles at something that is so familiar to me.

Pushing the door open, I ignore him as I enter the room I’ve long avoided and swing it closed on his judgments. There’s nothing that says I need to hang out and play nice. In the beginning it was because of my fear of my scent being detected, and now I’m just tired.

I don’t want to argue with people about myself or my values. I shouldn’t have to.

Turning on my lamp, I glance around to see everything appears to be the same at first glance, except for my closet door which is hanging open. Frowning, my feet feel heavy as I walk toward it. I know I closed this door.

Who the fuck was in here? My breaths begin to hitch as I gaze unseeingly at the contents. My breaths are short and jerky, the blood roaring in my ears as my knees betray me and buckle. I barely feel the sting of pain biting at my skin as I struggle to pull oxygen into my lungs.

There’s an odd smell in my room, though it’s not unpleasant. I simply don’t know why it’s in my space. I chose every scent that I wanted to allow in my room and closet. It’s why I have Phenex and Samael’s t-shirts in my closet and one of Samael’ssweatshirts in my dresser. I wanted them to be close to me while I went back and forth between places.

Now, the scent I’m smelling is nutty and sweet, and I recognize it as chicory. I had some coffee recently that was made from chicory root while driving through Louisiana to get here and I enjoyed it.

I simply don’t understand why it’s in my room, and why I want to wrap myself up in the scent. Shaking my head as my brain screams that I need to find whoever this is, whether monster or person, I whine at the realization that one of my scent matches was in here without my permission.

Three fucking scent matches. The fortune teller didn’t tell me how many I’d have, so I’m simply running on instincts and adrenaline. Fate is a cryptic bitch.

I want the safety of my closet, but it doesn’t feel safe right now, and I can’t slow down my heart rate. Everything is spinning and my backpack falls off my shoulders to the ground as I scoot my back against the wall.

I feel violated, and my eyes move over my things to see if anything has been moved. One of my dresser drawers isn’t all the way closed, the sheets on my couch are messed up, but everything else appears intact. Even my bottle of lotion is where it should be, as well as one of my hair brushes on the nightstand.

God, I feel loopy, focusing on things that don’t matter.

A fist pounds on the door loudly, making me squeal with fright.

“Dinner is ready if you want to eat,” Thorley yells through the flimsy wood. “The professor will probably be joining us as well.”

“Thanks, but I already ate,” I lie, my head beginning to hurt as breathing gets even more difficult.

I’m on the edge of panic and conspiracy theories, trying to figure out who the fuck was in my room. It wasn’t Adares orThorley because they don’t smell like chicory. It’s a thick, cloying scent in my room, as if it’s trying to get under my skin.

My phone buzzes in my jeans pocket, and I close my eyes as I struggle to regulate my breathing. I can hear Thorley’s heavy footsteps as they move away from my door, but I can’t get my body to stop freaking out.

I’m not safe, I’ll never be safe, fuck, fuck, fuck!

“Lorelei,” a voice barks, ripping through my panic as my chest heaves, forcing my lids to crack open. “What’s wrong? Why… What’s that scent?”

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