[book one]
The game was simple: A contest comprised of three unique challenges, designed to test a human's strength physically and mentally, their personality compatibility, and their chance of survival.
The prize was excruciatingly tempting: The ch...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
SHE STOOD THERE for a few seconds in pure horror. The beautiful sat on the padded cushions attached to the wheeled-chair, skimming through an assortment of papers on top of his desk --obviously not the young student he appeared to be.
"That's Mr. Wolfe," Tabatha whispered. She nudged Sophie's elbow, and snickered when the girl responded with a dumb, "Huh?"
Tabatha gestured to the beautiful man and then started walking toward him. Sophie's lips pressed together as she tried not to spontaneously combust.
Mr. Wolfe looked up as Tabatha approached his desk, one eyebrow quirked curiously as he welcomed her. His voice was rich and smooth, just like she'd remembered it, and Sophie sucked in a deep breath. Tabatha motioned for Sophie to join them, as she said, "Sophie's new here. She's my roommate."
"Hi," Sophie mumbled as his eyes slid toward her.
He blinked at her. There was a slight change in his expression; a burst of shock shot through his azure colored irises. But it was gone almost instantaneously. He smiled slightly, a thin twitch to his lips. It seemed to be more of a formality than kindness. "I believe I owe you an apology, then," he said. He dipped his head in a slight nod. "I thought you were one of the office personnel."
She smiled back tensely and nodded. "It's fine."
It most certainly was not fine because her voice cracked. She cleared her throat and tore her gaze away, focusing on the many maps that were plastered to the stone walls. She couldn't read them --or make sense of them, because her head was a jumbled mess. Her cheeks burned.
Tabatha chirped, "Is it okay if she sits with me?"
"I don't have a problem with it. Just remember the rules; if you talk while I talk, you'll be in trouble."
"Got it," Tabatha said. She grabbed Sophie by the arm and started pulling.
Mr. Wolfe shuffled his papers on his desk. "Nice to officially meet you, Sophie."
"Likewise," Sophie forced out.
Tabatha brought her over to one of the many desks that clustered around the room and slid into it. She motioned for Sophie to take the one beside her. Sophie put her backpack in the chair, so no one would steal it, and then walked around the row to sit down. Once she was seated, Tabatha leaned over. Her chin rested in her palm. "So," she drawled, "What exactly was he apologizing for?"
Sophie sighed, and felt a bit of the color finally drain from her face. "When I was in the front office, meeting the Headmaster, I ran into him. And he was kind of cold to me."
"What do you mean kind of cold," Tabatha asked. Her eyebrows crinkled as if the idea of Mr. Wolfe being anything near the mean spectrum of attitude and emotion were completely impossible.
She shrugged in response. "He glared a lot. And told me to watch it."
Tabatha made a face. "Huh." She lifted her head and glanced down toward her backpack. She pulled it up into her lap and started to fish around.
