Chapter Seven

BILLIE

I sleep restlessly on the futon, then wake up and roll it up. I do my morning routine, then throw my dance gear into my school bag. I’m waiting on the stoop when Raven pulls up in a black Ford Mustang. He gets out as I stand up and holds his hand out to me, helping me down the stoop. Then he kisses my cheek. 

“Show me where it is and I’ll grab anything you need. We can get a truck as well.”

“No need. If my chest can fit in the back of your car, and two boxes of books in the trunk, my futon can go on top of the chest and I’ll carry my clothes bag.”

“Perfect, show me where.”

I take him inside and he insists on carrying my trunk alone, then setting it in the back of his car as gently as if it were a valuable antique. He does the same with my books in his trunk, along with my bag of clothes, sets the futon in the backseat, and all I have to carry is my school bag.

I lock the back door and leave the key at the office, paying my final rent.

Then Raven asks me where to.

“Do you know something called the Rock House?”

“Precious, that’s where I live. You’re the new scholarship student coming to stay with us.”

“You’re in the Underground? What is it?”

“Eh, part gang, part wolfpack, part secret society.”

I’m so shocked, I put my hand on his leg without thinking.”What kind of secret society?”

“It’s complicated. Young wolf shifters aren’t as in control of our baser instincts as the adults. When we go off to college at Crescent or other schools in other regions, the werewolf gangs help keep our hormones and animal instincts in check. It’s good for human/wolf relations, and we help each other with all the shit that comes with being an older adolescent werewolf. And the secret society aspects ground us with ritual and bonding. Plus the rivalries give us somewhere to take out our aggression away from the fragile humans. Underground may look like a bunch of drama geeks, choir nerds, and artsy freaks, but we’re a gang, and we can hold our own.”

“You formed to protect each other. And humans.”

He tweaks my nose. “Exactly.”

“That’s all right then.”

He chuckles. “I’m glad you approve.”

“Shit, I didn’t mean—“

“No, I mean it, really. I like you, so I’m glad you approve.”

“Oh! Good.”

He starts the Mustang, and we drive to campus.

“What you saw the other night was a council between Tristan, our leader, and Spader, leader of Lunacy, the sports-centric Society and our rivals. It didn’t end well, as you’re aware.”

I touch my throat. “Yes. Tristan is your leader?”

“Undoubtedly. He formed the Underground when he was 14.”

“Wow. That’s impressive.”

“It is. We protect each other. We might all be freaks, but as most of us are the children of alphas or betas, we’re physically strong, and with Tris and Fleming’s help, we all became good fighters. Me, Thorne, Dominic, and Tristan of course are all alpha wolves. We settle most disputes in the fighting ring. For when a council doesn’t work.”

“Wait…is that what happens next? Because of me?”

“That’s yet to be seen. We’re giving Spader time to lick his wounds. Heal his wrist. It’s his move next.”

I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “I don’t want anyone getting hurt because of me.”

“Precious, don’t worry your head about it. Look at what’s happened! You’re getting out of that…tiny trailer,” he says diplomatically. “Starting a new adventure. You said you were a student of dance. Modern only or ballet as well?”

“Modern, though I’m trained in classical ballet and I could be in a chorus, though maybe not the lead. Modern dance is my strength, where I shine solo. I have a mix of styles, but lyrical dance is the one I use most often when I’m choreographing for my own routine.”

“Do you feel you pay more attention to the music, or do you interpret emotions or events through your dance?” he asks curiously.

“Both. I try to pick pieces that reflect what I want to portray, emotionally, and then tailor my dance to that.”

“When I paint, I try to reflect the emotions surrounding the subject, not just a flat depiction, so that makes sense to me.”

I look over at him shyly. “I’d like to see your paintings.”

“You will, they’re all over Rock House, along with other’s art. We’re a very decorated house, with all the creatives living here. I would love to have you model for me.”

“You want to paint me?” My face flushes at the compliment.

“Very much. I think you would be an interesting subject, and your beauty doesn’t hurt.”

We pull up to a block on campus that holds a dormitory built like a castle. There are four connected towers, with an open arch in the middle leading to a central courtyard. I can see rose bushes and ivy climbing the walls, which have polished rocks on them.

“It’s beautiful. I can’t believe I’ll be living here. It’s like a fairy tale.”

“Little Red Riding Hood?” he smirks. “I promise, none of us want to eat you—not in the traditional sense.” He gives me a charismatic lascivious look. “Welcome to Rock House.”

He’s flirting with me. And he’s really hot. Oh my god, what do I say?

“Thank you,” I end lamely.

We pull my things out of the car and he leads me to a tower that’s bigger than the others, unlocking the door with a card. “You should have one of these waiting in your room.”

Thankfully, Thorne meets us in the stairwell. “Hello, small girl. I’m glad you’re the scholarship student.”

“Thanks, me too.”

He takes my futon. “Your room is up here.”

We walk up the steps to the fourth floor, where there are two doors. The first door is labeled “O’Donnell”. Raven opens the one labeled “Black”. We pile in.

“Surprise?” Dominic says hopefully. He and Fleming are standing inside my unlocked dorm room, which is newly painted and full of furniture that doesn’t belong to me.

“What’s happening here?” I ask warily.

“Well, the Phantom knows all the secrets to getting free furniture and belongings that get left behind on campus, and we got you some things and cleaned them up…” Raven trails off as I look around in wonder. “Most of the scholarship humans don’t have much…we like to make them feel welcome and safe.”

The walls have been painted a deep rose color. There’s a white four poster bed, with a fluffy faux fur blanket. A matching furniture set of dresser, desk, and vanity table, all in white, too. There’s a full length mirror in the corner, built in bookshelves, a mini refrigerator, a pink and gold desk set on top of the desk, and…

“Is that…a laptop?”

“Before you freak, I have a buddy who works in the shop that refurbishes old classroom and faculty computers. He owed me a favor,” Fleming says. “We thought the new scholarship student—who turned out to be the hot girl we met this week—might need updated equipment and a furnished room.”

“You have to understand,” Thorne says. “The Rock House is more like a family than a dorm. So we got you set up.”

I let out a breath.

There are string lights hanging in loops on the ceiling, flowers on the vanity table, a plant hanging from a macrame holder, and a rose-colored reading chair in the corner of the office area.

“This is…how much did this cost?”

“Seriously, you owe us nothing, precious,” Raven says. “We’re a non-profit. Don’t worry about us.” He sets the chest at the end of the bed. I stuff my futon underneath it, and put the trash bag holding my clothes in the closet.

“Welcome to Crescent and the Rock House,” Flemings tells me. “I’m a drama major, and Dom over there is majoring in Cultural Studies.”

“Hello again. I’m a dancer.”

“We were told,” Dominic says. “Tristan had a practice area set up with a barre in the basement. The other dance majors will be able to use it, too, so you’re very popular with them now.”

“That was considerate of him,” I say.

They leave to let me get settled in, Fleming making a lunch date in the courtyard with me. I accept shyly, remembering how he’d called me “hot”. They were all gently flirtatious, as if they didn’t want to startle me. And they were all extremely attractive.

Still, I couldn’t help thinking about Tristan’s black hair, green eyes, and lip ring. The way he snapped Spader’s wrist as if it were nothing. How quickly he’d reacted when I was threatened. 

The way he stared at me, as if marking me with his eyes.