57

School was back in session. The younger students gathered by the benches as usual, playing 'red light, green light' and laughing as they tripped and ran. The bookish kids sat on the grassy hill, comparing notes and the debate team prepared their arguments with increasingly projecting gusto in their voices.

Everything was normal, almost as if Tom had never existed at all.

His closest friends had the rest of the week off—a group that no longer included Scarlett. There was a time when they were close, but that time had passed long before Tom had been murdered.

To her left, his murder stood. Damien. There was no hint of guilt or remorse for his actions. He was smiling and talking as his group of followers—including Sienna—hung on to his every word.

He must have sensed her eyes on the back of his head because he glanced over. Instead of looking away again, he began to stride over, telling his friends he'd be right back.

Scarlett's heart pounded in her chest, unable to hide the fear she was desperate not to show in her expression. What did he want now? He'd already ruined her life...

"So have you made up your mind?" he asked.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" she said through gritted teeth. "I have to do what you say, or he dies."

"Right." Damien nodded. "I'm glad you understand."

The look on his face, so blasé and self-satisfied, made her want to punch him. Her hand curled into an involuntary fist but sat rigid and useless at her side. There was no point in hitting him. It wouldn't hurt him. Nothing she could do would hurt him.

This realisation made her heart sink. She slumped, slowly unfurling her fingers as her muscles relaxed.

"This isn't fair," she muttered.

"Life is unfair," Damien said. "I could have just as easily been born a refugee in a warzone or an ordinary human with a disability or any number of other beings. The same goes for you. We are both lucky, in the grand scheme of things, wouldn't you agree?"

"Luckier than Tom," she pointed out with a fiery glare.

He frowned for a moment before laughing. "Tom. Poor Tom. He was still calling me a freak until the very end, you know... until I tore out his throat."

"Good," Scarlett uttered, holding back tears.

"Oh..." Damien threw back his head and laughed. "I'm not saying he was brave or anything. Quite the contrary. He begged for his life and pissed himself like they always do."

"You're horrible," she whispered. She hadn't meant for the words to escape her lips, but it was too late.

"I am what I am." Damien smiled. He didn't appear offended.

Scarlett looked down, staring at the pieces of loose gravel around her feet. The urge to fall to her knees and beg for mercy welled up in her chest. She knew it was pointless—her words would have zero effect on him—but not even trying seemed worse somehow. As is she was giving up on Riley. As though he wasn't worth it.

She pictured him—his soft brown hair falling into his face and his shy smile—and couldn't imagine life without him.

Did Damien not understand? Had he never felt that kind of bond with another?

"Dragons are solitary creatures," he said.

Scarlett frowned. "So you really can read minds?"

The idea was scary and... embarrassing. Having her thoughts all pining up like flashing display boards... nothing secret. It was horrifying.

"Don't worry, your thoughts hold little interest for me," he reassured her. He sighed and flashed a fake-looking smile. "If you want Riley to live, you will do what is in the best interests of your pack and create a stronger next generation by breeding with the Alpha."

Scarlett recoiled at the word 'breed.' It made her sound like some guinea pig. Some captive animal he wished to experiment on.

"Also," he went on, "I'd prefer for you to keep our agreement a secret. In fact, I'm going to have to insist that you cease all contact with Riley. Tell him whatever you want. No... in fact… you can tell him you are doing it for the good of the pack."

Scarlett almost dropped to the floor. Her legs shook and her lungs couldn't quite catch enough breath.

"I... I can't... I can't even see him at all?" she cried. "I can't see him ever again?"

Her face crumpled as she stared up at him, but his expression remained cold.

"Please. I can't go on without seeing him again. Please." Scarlett sobbed openly. The noise was attracting the attention of Sienna and the others, as well as the teacher on duty but she didn't care.

When the teacher approached, Damien placed an arm around her, pulling her in for an embrace that only served to demonstrate his strength. Pressed against him, she could not move an inch in any direction.

"She's upset over the recent death," Damien gently told the teacher. He squeezed her a little tighter as a warning to go along with the lie. So tight she felt her insides on the verge of rupture. "Perhaps she needs some time off to recover from the shock."

When Damien released her into the care of the teacher, he led her away. She couldn't see in front of her through the blur of tears and could barely walk.

Mr Simons—the English teacher on duty—left her on one of the comfy red seats at the reception desk.

"I'll go fetch the counsellor," he said before leaving her to sob her heart out.

The counsellor was an elderly woman with kind eyes and zero fashion sense. She was probably very good at her job, but she couldn't help Scarlett in this situation.

"I—I—I can't believe I'm never going to see him again," Scarlett stuttered between sobs.

"Oh, Dear." The woman pulled her in for a hug. "I'll ring your mother to pick you up."

She passed Scarlett a bottle of water that she couldn't drink. Her throat wouldn't seem to stop hiccupping long enough to take a sip.

"I don't need Mum. I need Damien. Only Damien can help. Only Damien can fix this—" she started.

"Oh, Sweetie." The lady smiled sympathetically, looking at her as if she'd lost the plot. "Damien is a very smart young man, but he can't bring back the dead I'm afraid."

It was at that point that Scarlett realised she couldn't even talk to anyone about this. Not her mother or her friends or most importantly... Riley.

She sniffed, trying to hold in the tears.

"I'm okay," she assured the woman. "I don't need to go home. I... I don't need any help."

Scarlett swallowed.

"I'll be fine."