Page 13 of In Darkness We Claim

They say when you’re on top of the world, there’s nowhere to go but down, and boy, did I fall fast. I hit rock bottom in a way I never saw coming, and of course he was there to watch me crash and burn.

Since our first public outing together at The Crow’s Annual Welcome Party, at the start of our first year, people have viewed Ryan and me as a power couple on Shadowmere’s campus. This isn’t a label I wanted or asked for, but it was always going to happen, given who we are.

Our arranged marriage will combine two great families into one unstoppable force. But despite our marriage being arranged by our parents when we were fifteen-years-old, we didn’t get together until the summer before we started at Shadowmere.

I wanted to concentrate on finishing high school, and I imagine Ryan wanted to sleep around a little before being tied to me—a luxury women are not afforded.

Although I’d say I’m happy in my relationship with Ryan, I can’t deny feeling like there’s something missing. We’ve been together for almost two years, and I don’t think I’m in love with him—despite having to say it to him all the time, as it’s what he wants to hear. I don’t get butterflies whenever he’s near me, or crave hearing from him when we’re apart.

I think our lack of a sex life may contribute to the problem, but that’s not exactly something I can change. The Obsidian Order has very strict rules, and if I want to be an Order Wife, I have to be a virgin on my wedding day. So the most we’ve done is a little kissing, and some over-the bra boob fondling, which was honestly a bit underwhelming.

I haven’t even touched myself to see if I’m capable of experiencing pleasure, because I’m so scared of getting carried away and breaking my hymen. I’ve read about it happening, and I can’t throw my future away for something as trivial as that.

Ryan continues to ask me to use my mouth on him, and I know there’s no reason I shouldn’t, but I still find myself saying no every time. If I’m being honest, I keep refusing because of the unfairness of it. He refuses to go down on me, saying it breaks the rules, yet he wants me to do it to him.

I get the rules are different for men and women in the Order; we will always be second-class citizens, but that doesn’t mean I can’t claw back a little fairness whenever I can.

Don’t get me wrong, I’d like to have sex with Ryan… It’s just not this all-consuming idea that I thought it would be. With some of my friends, sex is literally all they think or talk about, and I thought that was how I’d feel. But I don’t.

Ryan doesn’t get me hot and flustered. Sadly, that role is reserved for someone else entirely, someone it definitely shouldn’t be—Lawson Radley.

As I walk across the Shadowmere courtyard, trying to distract myself from the anxiety of walking alone, he’s the one I’m thinking about, even when I know I shouldn’t be. I’ve just finished my first class of the day, and have plenty of other things to occupy my mind, but he’s who my subconscious brings up first.

Since the first night I met him at the Crow’s Welcome Party, he’s been a constant presence in my life, despite him rarely ever speaking to me. His steel-grey eyes heat my body from the inside out whenever he’s near.

The most confusing part is that I find myself torn between wishing he’d leave me alone and wanting so much more from him. Yet, when he interacts with me, it’s either with a scathing remark—making it clear how much he despises me—or he offers to take my virginity. He usually says it to wind Ryan up, letting me know he’s a much better option, and my traitorous body can’t help wondering if he’s right.

Why does he look at me like I’m his greatest obsession? Like he can’t get enough of me, despite clearly hating me.

My thoughts are regularly pulled back to that strange moment we shared together at the start of the year, in the kitchen of Crowhurst House. It’s been on repeat in my mind for the last few months, making me question my sanity.

A crowd has gathered in the living room at Crowhurst House, and whispers circle me from my seat on the sofa in the middle of the room. Everyone is talking about the latest initiation that the second years are currently undertaking, both excitement and fear thrumming all around us.

Some of the Pledges that have already completed the assignment are sitting silently, their blank faces giving nothing away, but their eyes tell a story of just how hard this task is. Not a single one of them has come away unscathed, and even those that ranked highly have cuts and bruises that speak to the violence of the challenge they have undertaken.

Ryan has yet to face the assignment, so I have no idea what it is, and I’m not sure I want to know either. Some of the tasks he undertakes turn my stomach, and ignorance really is bliss, particularly when the risk of injury is so high.

Yet it’s not Ryan that I’m worried about. As soon as Bram mentions that Lawson is missing, no doubt having gone to complete his task, nausea ripples though me as my heart starts to race. Acid claws at my throat, and I have to focus on my breathing to get it under control.

I try to zone out what the people around me are saying, since they never expect me to be part of the conversations anyway, but I keep picking up on snippets of information that strike fear though me. Danger. Drugs. Fighting. Weapons… They’re all speculation, since the Pledges who have completed the task are still silent, but it’s enough to freeze my veins with fear.

I don’t even know why I’m worried about him, but as the hours drag on, my inexplicable concern only increases. In the early hours of the morning, as the people in the living room scatter, heading to their rooms for the night, I’m faced with a conundrum. I never spend the night with Ryan, as I don’t trust him not to want more from me, but I can’t bring myself to leave until I know Lawson’s safe.

When Ryan stands to head up to bed, I give him a chaste kiss goodbye, telling him I will see him tomorrow, but instead of leaving, I sneak into the kitchen to wait. My heart is pounding loudly in my ears, and for the millionth time, I ask myself what the hell I’m doing. Why am I hiding in the dark kitchen, waiting around to find out whether a guy I hate is okay or not? Except, I’m not sure I really do hate him.

It feels like forever that I sit here, lost in my thoughts in the darkness, when the distant click of the door opening allows a stream of light to burst into the room. Heavy footsteps echo around me as a large figure follows the beam, and I’m just about able to make him out.

My feet are moving before I’m able to stop them, though I don’t think he can hear me as he doesn’t look my way. Not until I let out a gasp when I’m close enough to see the state he’s in, the shadows no longer hiding how awful he truly looks.

His sweatpants and jumper are ripped, and covered in grime and blood, and one of his shoulders is heavily wrapped in a bandage. He’s got a few steri-strips over a large cut on his forehead, and there are other cuts that are not deep enough to require closing.

Parts of his face are already starting to turn purple and swell in some places, and specks of dried blood cover his unusually pale skin. There’s a cut on his bottom lip that’s oozing slightly, as well as his nose.

As soon as he hears the sharp exhale of my breath, his eyes flick to where I’m standing before him, and he doesn’t even hide the way he drinks me in. I’m shocked when, for the first time, his silver eyes aren’t blank masks. Instead, there’s a flicker of pain, exhaustion, confusion, and something that can only be lust as he takes me in.

He’s quick to shut down his emotions, as always, but like a moth to a flame, I’m drawn to him, and before I know it, my hand is resting on his cheek. My palm tingles against his bruised flesh, and although I know I need to be gentle with him, I can’t help pressing a little more when he leans into my touch.

When a trickle of crimson blood leaks from his nose, I use my thumb to wipe it away, hating seeing all the injuries marring his handsome face. I don’t know what possesses me to touch him like he might mean something to me, but when he doesn’t stop me, I allow myself a moment to pretend. To forget about reality and just live in this strange moment we’re sharing.