Auston.
Sitting on the school grounds beneath a canvas of bloated gray storm clouds, I feel myself begin to shake. Anger like I’ve never felt before courses through me with the force of a tsunami. It deserves to be its own element on the periodic table.
I clutch my head as memories continue to assault me.
Feathered wings catching the light, making them almost appear to be pearlescent.
Dark horns protruding from a shock of black hair as a devilishly handsome Demon smirks up at me. My hands are chained above my head as he plays my body as skillfully as any musician with their beloved instrument.
A timid grin playing on the lips of a Reaper. And then his body moving in tandem to mine, bringing us both to the precipice of pleasure. Our eyes lock as the heat crackles between us like a palpable, living entity.
And then a Ghost with a cocksure grin, just-fucked hair, and bedroom eyes. He looks at me like he loves every piece of me, even the parts I haven’t apologized for.
Auston.
Braxton.
Preston.
Karston.
Their names are all I can hear, reverberating in my head. Their touches are all I can feel.
And then another man, with penetrating eyes, black hair, and a smile that holds a thousand secrets.
The Darkness.
Caius.
That realization settles over me like a heavy wave, drowning me. I collapse onto the ground as anger and rage seep into my bone marrow. Snakes begin to fester in my stomach, twisting and slithering and hissing.
He lied to me.
Beneath the anger and fury is something that I would almost describe as hurt. A part of me cries out at the realization that nothing Caius has ever told me was true. He’s evil—the epitome of darkness.
My anger continues to grow and grow until it’s barely recognizable. I can’t focus on anything else but that. Not where I am or how I got here. Not Caius’s master plan.
Nothing but a blistering, elemental fury that coats my vision in red.
He not only lied to me, but he made me forget my guys. The men I care for more than anyone else in this godforsaken Afterworld.
“Had,” Layla calls tentatively, waving a hand in the air. She pauses at whatever she sees in my expression. Dropping her backpack on the ground, she races the remaining distance and kneels down before me.
The sky seems to be getting darker and darker, as if my rage is physically manifesting itself. Lightning zigzags across the inky sky, illuminating Layla’s stricken face.
“Did you know?” I ask through gritted teeth. She blinks large, innocent eyes up at me.
“Know what?”
“Did. You. Know?” It hurts to speak. A knot the size of a walnut sits uncomfortably in my throat, and acid churns in my stomach like a volcano.
I want to find Caius and…
And what? Kill him?
The thought is nearly comical.
I know innately that I’ll never be able to do that. It may have been an illusion, a scheme, but a twisted part of me still loves him. That asshole.
“The illusion is shattering,” Layla says solemnly. Her mouth is a grim line on her beautiful face.
Anger.
So.
Much.
Anger.
“There you go!” Layla slaps a hand down on my shoulder. “Get angry. Get mean. Get wrathful.”
A scream is wrenched from my throat as the world begins to shake and distort, like someone running their hand through a reflection visible in water. The trees rustle, and leaves fall to the ground. The school begins to collapse one brick at a time.
And then, everything implodes.
I wake up with a gasp, pulse skittering and sweat matting my hair to my neck and forehead. Fear pulses through me as I attempt to orient myself to my surroundings.
Why…?
Where…?
Vague memories assault me. Caius. The school. And…
And Auston. I visualize my white-haired, blue-eyed angel and feel an innate sense of peace and security.
My mind replays the conversation I had with him and then Layla’s arrival. A splitting headache forms behind my eyelids, and I groan, turning over to press my face into a pillow.
Was it all a dream? A nightmare?
Stretching my taut muscles, I finally blink my eyes open. I expect to see my dorm room in Afterworld Academy. Instead, the sight I see leaves me cold and shaky.
I appear to be in an unfamiliar bedroom. The gray, monotonous colored walls hint that I may be in a basement, or somewhere underground. A white canopy hangs overhead, held up by four posts. Candles—recently lit—surround me, their flames dancing in the rose-perfumed air. There are two doors on either side of the room, both closed.
“What the fuck?” I whisper numbly, sitting straight up in bed. Horror fills me as I stare at my freshly cut fingernails. Whipping my head up, my gaze lands on my reflection in the mirror above the vanity.
My muddy blonde hair has been washed and brushed, and a white nightgown clings to my body. It’s not something I have ever worn before. Hell, I’m not even sure it’s something I own.
Memories continue to bombard me as I gape at myself in the mirror.
Auston. Preston. Braxton. Karston.
Caius.
The school.
Fuck!
What did Caius do to me?
Tears burn my eyes—tears of humiliation and indignation. It feels as if I had something precious ripped from my hands, something invaluable. I’m forced to watch the pieces fall on the floor, helpless to put them back together again.
I need to find my guys.
My guys…
My head spins and spins with the onslaught of information. One moment, I’m filled with love for the four brothers, and the next, I’m thinking of Caius.
What had he called me? Claire?
Who the fuck is Claire?
Stumbling to my feet, I cross the room in three quick steps, wrenching open the heavy wooden door.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
I’m so preoccupied with my own thoughts that I don’t notice the room I stepped into until it’s quite literally punching me in the face. The rancid stench greets me first, permeating the air. I immediately pinch my nose and grimace.
Slowly, my brain catches up to what my eyes are seeing.
There are souls everywhere. They lie on the floor, hands crossed over their chests. Their eyes are nothing more than scorched burn marks, and cracks mar their skin, some thin and others wide.
Souls.
Lots and lots of souls.
All without their essence.
When a human dies, their soul travels to Heaven, Hell, or Afterworld Academy. A soul is made up of a person’s essence. If you remove the essence from the soul, you’re basically depriving the soul of everything they are. It’s the only way you can kill someone who’s already dead.
Horror swamps me, consumes me, like being submerged in arctic water. I place my hand over my mouth to contain my hiccupped sob.
No. No. No. No.
I stumble backward, my hip catching on the door, but I’m unable to wrench my gaze away from the horrendous scene before me. My stomach churns and tightens like a barrel of acid. Tears cascade down my cheeks, though I don’t know what—or who—I’m crying for. These souls? Me? My men? Caius? I don’t understand my own tumultuous emotions.
With a cry, I step back into the bedroom and slam the door closed. I know the image of those bodies will be etched into my closed eyelids. I’ll never be able to unsee them.
Did Caius…?