Page 43 of Bound to the Dorm Elf
“Hi, ladies,” Bill says, voice warm enough to pass for polite if you weren’t listening closely. His eyes flick over Syndee like she’s furniture before settling on me. And staying there.
I make a point of not moving. Neutral expression. Neutral posture. But inside, my mind is already mapping the room — three exits if I count the window, four if I count the drop to the dumpster below as survivable. I clock their hands, the weight on their belts, the way Bill’s gaze is assessing rather than merely curious.
“Mind if we ask a couple of questions?” he says, though the way his foot shifts forward already claims the space as his.
Syndee glances over her shoulder toward Skylar, who’s halfway to standing. “Uh… about what?”
Bill’s attention doesn’t leave me. “Just following up on a few reports about unusual activity around campus. Big guy like you,” — his chin tilts in my direction — “tends to get noticed.”
“Noticed doesn’t mean guilty,” Skylar says, and her voice has that edge I’ve learned means she’s ready to bare teeth.
I almost tell her to stay out of it — not because I can’t handle them, but because showing concern for me draws their focus tighter. And I can feel that focus already, threading in like a hook.
“Of course not,” Bill says, mouth pulling into something that pretends to be a smile. “Just thought we’d clear a few things up.”
Steve flips a page in his notebook, then blurts, “You were seen in the woods the night of the?—”
Bill’s head whips around, and Steve shuts his mouth so fast his teeth click.
My gaze narrows. Woods. Night. So they’re fishing, but they’re not entirely guessing. That’s a problem.
Skylar’s pulse has picked up; I can hear it from here, quick and light like a sparrow’s. I keep my expression bland but let my voice drop low enough that the warmth burns out of it.
“If you have questions for me,” I say, “you should ask them directly. Not dance around them like children playing at war.”
Bill’s brows lift, just a fraction. “Is that how it’s gonna be?”
“It’s the only way it’s going to be,” I answer, letting a thin thread of my real presence leak past the glamour. Not enough to show what I am, but enough to make the world press in — heavy, watchful, promising trouble if pushed.
Steve swallows audibly. Bill’s eyes narrow, but there’s something else there now — caution, maybe even respect, though it’s buried under his suspicion.
“We’ll be in touch,” Bill says finally, the warmth gone from his voice. He jerks his head toward the hallway, and Steve nearly trips in his rush to follow.
The door shuts with a solid thunk. Syndee exhales dramatically. “Well. That was… intense.” She glances between me and Skylar, clearly dying to ask questions but, for once, restraining herself. “I’m gonna… go get snacks,” she decides, and slips out, leaving us alone again.
I stay by the door a moment longer, listening to their footsteps fade down the hall. When I’m sure they’re gone, I turn to Skylar.
“They’re closing in,” I say.
Her arms are folded, her jaw tight. “You think I didn’t see that?”
“They’re not just men looking for answers,” I tell her. “They smell of secrecy. Of hunters who’ve worn false skins for so long they’ve forgotten the blood beneath.”
She shivers, but it’s not from the cold. “And they’re hunting you.”
“Not just me.” I let the implication hang between us — because whether she admits it or not, they’ll start circling her too.
We just stand there in the cramped dorm room, the air still holding the ghost of my earlier admission and now thick with the weight of this new threat. My fingers curl into a loose fist at my side.
Trouble isn’t coming. It’s already here.
And I need to decide how far I’m willing to go to keep it from taking root in her world.
CHAPTER 16
SKYLAR
The door had barely clicked shut behind Bill and Steve last night before my stomach dropped like I’d swallowed a brick.
