Page 80 of Shattered Illusion

“Yep,” she pops the P, stuffing what looks like a piece of sausage in her mouth. After swallowing, she continues. “He isn’t taking a date,” she levels me with a pointed look, “and neither am I. He’s family, so why not?”

Um. There are a million reasons why I can tell her why not, but I swallow them down along with the bacon I was chewing on.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’m going to go. I haven’t been in this world long, and I don’t know. I’ll feel like an interloper celebrating something that has nothing to do with me.”

“An interloper? Dude, you should have been here the whole damn time. You should have grown up in this world. Just come. Please.” Marion puts her hands together in prayer form, jutting out her bottom lip in a pout.

“We’ll see, Mare-bear. But if the guys don’t ask me, I don’t want to go alone.”

She snorts, waving her hand. “They’ll ask you. I have no doubt about that. They’ve been glued to your ass more and more recently, so I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Plus, being who they are, I know they’ll be there. But if they don’t invite you as their date, I’ll knock some sense into them.”

Now that’s something I’d love to watch. Not that she’d get far. She’s strong, I’ll give her that. But my men, they surpass her by leaps and bounds.

The bell rings overhead, and almost every person in the dining hall groans, knowing they need to head to class. That chat time is over, and they’ll have to wait until the end of the day to continue their excitement over the upcoming festivities.

“Shit. Gotta jet. Forgot we have Combat this morning. Text me later, and we’ll talk about what we should wear.”

Before I can reply, she bustles out of the dining hall, grumpy shifters following every step behind her. The door slams behind her, and I snicker when the guys clamber over each other, trying to shove out the door at the same time.

Idiots.

As I head toward my first class of the morning, all I can think about is if going to something like this is a mistake. I understand that I should have been in this world from the beginning like Marion said. But something about it just feels insanely wrong. Maybe it’s because, for the longest time, I was against the supernaturals being present in the first place. Or that I had an insane hate toward them. Things have changed since then, but still.

Now, I just don’t feel like I belong because I’m so damn different.

Finally.

I breathe a sigh of relief as the professor dismisses us from what is technically my last class of the day. Self-study should take me to the library, but I just can’t do it today. Everything aches, and my feet drag across the stone floor, wariness and tiredness fighting for dominance over my mind.

All anyone can talk about is this gala, and class was no different. Even the professors showed their excitement over the upcoming event. The more they spoke about it, the more it solidified in my mind that I was not going to attend.

Students shoot past me in the halls, their phones in their ears as they make preparations for what they’re going to wear. Who they’re going with. How they’re getting there. It’s all just becoming too much.

Every time I hear the world gala now, I cringe, rushing to get away from it. But that just wasn’t possible in class, so I was forced to listen to it all. Not anymore, though. Now all I have tolook forward to is the silence of my room and the absence of that damn word.

It isn’t until I stop out front of my dorm room that I realize something is wrong. There’s a crack in the door when I know damn well I shut and locked it before I went to breakfast. An ominous glow seeps from around the crack, sending fear zipping down my spine.

Instead of retreating like I know I should—or, you know, calling someone to deal with this—my feet take me forward, and I reach out, slowly pushing the door open. This could be the dumbest or bravest thing I’ve ever done. Probably both.

I swear if a bad guy pops out and kills me, someone better put ‘should have known better’ on my gravestone.

With every inch the door opens, the glow from within brightens, illuminating the semi-darkened space. During the middle of the night is the only time I think I’ve ever seen my dorm cast in so many shadows. Not during the day. Not when the sun should be shining from the windows.

I don’t pass the threshold, knowing that if I need to run, it’s better not to already be inside the space. Someone could be hiding behind the door, and they’d slam it shut the moment I fully entered the room. I may not be the wisest person in the world—ergo, the stupidity I’m exuding now—but I’m notthatstupid.

“Please don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me,” I mumble under my breath as my magic coils under my skin, ready to strike. And this is the first time I’m not afraid to use it. If someone gets burned, well, they should have stayed the hell out of my room.

My eyes slowly adjust to the semi-darkness permeating the space, and it’s then I can make out lit candles scattered over almost every surface, while rose petals in pinks, reds, and whites litter the floor, making a trail toward the middle of the roomwhere my mates stand, dressed in slacks and nice shirts, each holding a single red rose.

A sob catches in my throat as my hands fly to my face, covering my mouth and trying to hide my emotions. But I should have known better that it wouldn’t happen. Tears well in my eyes and track down my cheeks as they step forward, each with a hand stretched out, beckoning me to come to them.

My magic slowly slithers back into its place behind my heart with each step I take toward my mates. Axel’s shirt matches his blood red eyes—not that I’d expect anything less from my sweet vampire. His blond locks are pulled back in a bun on top of his head, and his fangs are front and center as he smiles widely at me.

Luka’s smile is just as bright when my gaze trails to him next. Like Axel, Luka’s upper body is encased in a dark navy shirt that matches his eyes, and his black hair is spiked up instead of brushing across his forehead.

Damn. I’m one lucky girl.

All tiredness from before flees me as I come to a stop in front of them. But I must still be too far away as they reach for me simultaneously. In their arms, sandwiched between them, is the one place where I truly feel like I belong. I can’t hold back the sobs as they rip from my chest over the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.

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