Page 13 of For Dear Life

“Two. Rowan will walk you over to Marci’s.”

“I wanted to talk to you, Violet,” he says quietly and shoves a hand through his hair.

I point at my paper-covered wall and grab a black pen. “I have thinking to do.”

“You died, Violet!” replies Holly, partly in disbelief.

“My brain is intact.”

“She’s mad,” says Holly to my gathered friends. “If Rowan’s ‘accompanying’ me, you need to look after her, Leif. The death messed with her mind.”

“I’m as sane as I ever am,” I reply. “I’ve merely had too much interaction with people today, and I would like to be left in peace.”

“I can look after Violet too, Holly,” retorts Grayson. “Or are you as prejudiced against me as everybody else is?”

Holly avoids his eyes—and a reply—before re-focusing on shoving items into her bag, including the academy uniform.

“I’d rather not spend time alone in your company,” I inform Grayson, and his eyes go wide before he frowns and looks away. “You are very much aware why.”

“Wow,” he mutters.

Is that a smirk on Rowan’s face? I approach him, moving into the aura that snaps together with mine when we’re close, our bodies not touching but with the odd sensation we are. I tiptoe in order to reach his ear better.

“Watch where Holly goes,” I whisper. “In case she sneaks away.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone,” he murmurs back.

“Why?”

His hand brushes mine, the way he has several times today—cautious but subtle. “You died, Violet. We’re bonded. Every part of me wants to stay and protect you.”

“The protection part: ridiculous. The staying? No. You’d distract me,” I say quietly.

“In a good or bad way?” he asks.

“Stop staring at my mouth. I’m not about to kiss you goodbye.”

One of the guys chuckles and Rowan slices a look in their direction.

“I want to leave,” says Holly. “And tomorrow I want an explanation.”

I turn from Rowan. “Yes. I’d very much like to speak to you too, Holly. We should spend one of our girl’s afternoons together.” I try to smile in a way that suggests the idea thrills me even though I’d rather stick pins in my eyes.

Holly’s energy spikes with greater shock at my suggestion than when four individuals materialized in her room. How else am I to dig into this girl’s life and mind if I don’t involve myself more? I’m rather cross that Dorian suggested my first ever female friend, the one who’s teaching me to acclimate to the world outside my head, could be an enemy. The idea’s ludicrous and I’ll prove this.

“Goodbye,” I say to Holly and the others, opening the door wide. I spot the wariness on Leif’s and Grayson’s faces as they hesitate. “I would like to rest and deal with the residual effects of my death. Please leave.”

Holly mutters ‘omigod’ beneath her breath as she edges past Leif, who’s in the doorway. He looks as if he’s about to speak before shaking his head and following. Grayson shrugs and leaves, too. As the last one from the room, Rowan pauses. I startle as he takes my head in both hands and presses a hard kiss on my forehead.

“At least you look too shocked by that to kick my arse,” he says, smirks, and turns to leave.

The door clicks closed behind the four, leaving me with an oddly empty sensation in my chest—one that grew hollower after Rowan’s lips made sudden contact and then left me.

But I suppose an impaled heart would have post-injury after effects.

5

ROWAN