Page 11 of Sweetheart: Part One

I frowned at the question and the caution in his eyes. So, so different from Ebony, who’d just… Who’d just… Ink seeped into the edges of my vision. The last thing I felt was Drake’s firm hands catching me as I fell, and the world went black.

FIVE

Dear Drake: You don’t want me.

DRAKE

All I could think of as I laid Vex down on the bed in the Sweetheart’s quarters was that she looked like Sleeping Beauty.

Her hair was long and hung in soft waves, and it was a beautiful silver brown with a strip of peach.

I frowned, unable to tear my eyes from where she lay on the expansive bed in the Sweetheart’s room.

Resting as she was, she looked fragile.

I knew malnutrition firsthand. I noticed a difference between the brighter skin of her face beneath makeup compared to the more ashen tone to the pale skin of her arm. I hated making judgements on weight—I’d been told I was underweight my whole life, even when I wasn’t a half starved teen—but I couldn’t help wondering where she came from.

Honestly, I was entirely unsure of what to make of her at all. Sweethearts were usually the epitome of beauty standards, perfect to hang from the arm of whatever pack they were sent to. The Sweetheart Agency might claim to be neutral, but the candidates who’d arrived before her had all come from well-off homes. They’d all had that leg-up that I hadn’t had—one I didn’t recognise in Vex, either.

She wore all black: waist-high leggings, a simple cropped dark shirt with long sleeves, and combat boots. Long lashes brushed her cheeks, framed with a dark line of winged eyeliner, and there was a small downturn on her plush, pink lips. Her nails were painted with chipped black, and there was a blush of pink on her cheeks and nose, as well as a smattering of freckles that may or may not be makeup. Beautiful, truly, but still the strangest Sweetheart I’d ever seen.

And somehow the most captivating.

It was creepy, staring at her like I was, but I found it impossible to look at anything else. I’d rarely been in this room. Like most of my pack, I avoided Sweethearts when they visited, waiting it out until the week was up or until Ebony scared them away.

But she’d fainted on me, which really wasn’t a surprise after what she’d just gone through. A little flutter of rage stirred in my chest at that thought, rare and out of place for me.

Right now, it was all I could do to make sure she was okay.

I had an omega co-star who’d fainted once on set when she’d caught sight of the vat of water snakes she was supposed to climb into for a scene. I hadn’t blamed her, even if they were harmless. When she’d woken only a minute later… What was it that they’d done for her?

I dashed from the room to the kitchenette in the lounge and grabbed a glass of water, and one of Ebony’s protein bars from the drawer—the cherry brownie flavour, since she deserved that at least.

She was already stirring when I returned, which gave me pause. Would she find it strange if I was here when she woke? I shooed the thought away. It would be much ruder to dump her on the bed and leave.

A vice squeezed my heart as I remembered the look of terror on her face and my boiling rage set me on edge.

Ebony.

What the fuck had that been about?

I didn’t understand. We all knew what he could be like, but I’d never seen him lose it like that.

She tucked her hair behind her ears as she sat up, blinking blearily as she looked at me.

I pushed the water and protein bar into her hands, and she took them, a little startled.

“Shit,” she whispered. “I fainted?”

I nodded. I don’t know why I was suddenly overcome with nerves, but my throat was dry and I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to do with myself. It felt weird, looming over her, so I sat down on the bed at her side, leaving a good distance between us. I’d just stay long enough to know she was okay. “Please don’t tell.” Her bright brown eyes held mine desperately.

I gave her a half smile and mimed zipping my lips. Then I kicked myself, because that’s something a twelve-year-old would do.

But her shoulders sagged in relief. “I have to be the worst Sweetheart ever,” she groaned, hugging herself.

I shook my head.

She peered at me oddly, and I realised I’d been mute since she’d woken. I cleared my throat, suddenly not able to meet her eyes. “You’re… not.”

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