Page 132 of Just One Bite
Now her forehead is wrinkled. She’s irritated, but she can’t tell me. It’s kinda cute.
“Don’t think any mates will like seeing you sit with me.”
Oh, she’s jealous with very little pressure.
“I’m not really worried about finding my mate. That will be easy.”
Her fingers dig into the wrapper of the protein bar. “Oh, right. Parker can find any mate he wants.”
“Sure. Does that bother you? Might I remind you that you broke up with me.”
She looks at my lips, then up to my eyes. “Right.”
I’m still thinking of that last kiss. It told me all I needed to know. She wants me to save her, and I’m going to.
Outside her window is the calm dark-green sea. I’ve been to the island once as a kid for summer camp. I remember the rocking of the ferry and my excitement over sitting in a seat by the window.
The boarding hasn’t finished yet, but every few seconds, Olivia’s chin dips as she nods off while staring out the window.
“Couldn’t sleep, huh?”
She shakes her head. Her eyelids are heavy. It’s the bond. Her body senses menear. That it’s safe and I can protect her.
“You can sleep. I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”
“Just need to close my eyes for a few minutes,” she whispers.
It takes three minutes before she’s out, and the sway of the boat brings her head to my shoulder. Her breath warms my arm as she sighs, and all that prickly fear and sadness dissolves from her scent into calm, serene bliss.
Chapter Forty-Three
Olivia
There’s no service on the island. I can’t tell if I’m extremely thankful or terrified. All I want to do is call my sisters. But it’s just one weekend, then I’m free to be back at home alone and sad all by myself.
I stare at the pamphlet in my hands that was handed to me as soon as we disembarked the ferry. We were then separated into groups: hunters and hunted.
As terrifying as it sounds, I was immediately ushered from Parker’s side to an area of women and men who might be the most welcoming people I’ve ever met. All the girlsloveme here. Lots of them come from other schools I’ve never heard of, and they’re free from the Doxlothia bias. Though they know all about it.
I never thought I was the type to care about that sort of thing, but when it’s everyone staring and refusing to talk to you while you’re already so anxious your stomach is eating itself, it does start to sting. But all the new people tell me how well I hide it, and from the outside looking in, I navigate it all with elegance and grace. If they only knew.
We get a goodie bag full of things for our stay in the hotel, including a T-shirt, socks, and toiletries. I’ve never been to such a luxurious place before. My room has a queen-size bed and a steam shower. According to the pamphlet and our guide, tonight is the dinner and the welcome ceremony, Saturday afternoon is reserved for mingling, then The Hunt begins after sundown.
“Olivia! Stand next to me.” I follow the voice of a girl named Tara who has bright-green hair and silver eyes. “Look, you can see Parker from here.”
They don’t list the details of the welcome ceremony in the pamphlet, oddly enough, but after we check in to our rooms and drop off our things, we’re given the option to linger in the hotel until the ceremony, and it’s only the hunted mingling and getting drinks. My plan was to stay secure in my room, but I was quite literally dragged into the lobby with a group of girls who wanted to hear all about me and Parker.
I have zero skills in that area. It almost reminds me of those slumber parties I saw on TV growing up, only we’re all over the age of twenty-one and sipping drinks.
Once the sun goes down, we’re taken to a garden area. It’s open-ended with sliding doors that lead back into the resort. All the hunters are gathered outside in one place in the center. The birds fly overheard, and there’s a soft breeze.
I take my place next to her. I do want to see Parker. He’s the only thing that’s familiar and safe.
“Wow. You’re a lucky woman.” Tara’s eyes sparkle as she eyes him.
They all think Parker is here for me. They tell me about their theories on why we’re both here.
Nothing could prepare me for the sheer number of people who know who I am. They say my name like we’re friends. Some have even guessed right about the Secrecy Stone rumored to live at the edge of Languid Lake and my involvement in some type of blackmailing scheme. It’s like my life is a soap opera to them. Some storybook unfolding before their eyes, and they want to be the one to guess correctly. It should be insulting, but it’s comforting to have people believe me for once. And at the same time, unsettling to know how much strangers are thinking of me and piecing my life together. They ask me about ballet too and tell me how amazed they were when they saw my leaked entry tapes.
