The Deaths of Me (NEW ADULT REWORK)

11. Rory's Minor Maybe Crush

There is no they, only us.

--Anonymous

Rory sat up, covered in sheets and pillows. She wasn't sweating, but she wasn't shivering, either. When she was finally alert enough to take in her surroundings, she realized that it was morning. Dust swam and dove in the light that filtered in through the window. She was still in Dane's room, even though Dane was nowhere to be found. The fireplace was dark and lifeless.

Quietly, she dipped her feet over the side of the bed and stood. She tugged at the sleeves of the large sweater she wore and ran her fingers through her hair. How had she gotten into bed?

"Dane?" There was a soft creaking just outside the door. When she pushed it open, a girl she'd yet to meet greeted her with a cold glare.

"Not quite," she answered with a tight smile.

Rory smoothed down her hair and wrapped her arms around herself as she gave the girl a quick once over. She looked to be the same age as Rory, which gave her hope. Maybe the Council had sent her a friend, a confidante, instead of a protector.

Her cold, gray eyes were rimmed in the longest, darkest lashes she'd ever seen, her pale arms crossed in front of her like a shield. She looked like an athlete, and Rory almost immediately pinned her as a lycan.

They stood, examining each other until the girl abruptly held out her hand. "Sophie," she said.

"Rory," she returned, grasping the girl's hand in her own.

"We've heard a lot about you."

"We?"

"The pack," she clarified, flipping her long brown hair over her shoulder with a quick twist of her neck.

"Oh," was all that Rory could squeak out. Shep and Dane had been most meticulous about who they let in the house since the day she'd arrived. The only other pack member she'd gotten acquainted with was Danielle, the cook. Rory was beginning to think that the Council hadn't sent Sophie after all.

"I eat a lot of meals here, so I came by for breakfast. I hope you don't mind." She smiled, but it just seemed to pull her features taut across her bones, like she was straining not to throw up. Rory shook her head. Sophie stepped out of her way and motioned to the hallway as if challenging her to move.

"After you," Rory mumbled. The brunette genuinely smiled then, as if she had won something, but Rory followed her anyway. "You said you eat a lot of meals here?"

Sophie nodded and trailed a pale pink, painted fingernail across the wallpaper as they walked down the hall. She smelled of soap and lemongrass; it reminded Rory of cleaning day in the summers at the cabin with Uncle Matt.

"Dane and I are very close," she chimed, seeming to brighten with every step. Rory, however, was sinking into the floor.

With a heavy sense of realization, she began to recognize Sophie for what she was. The Council had brought up Dane's womanizing ways, even questioning his ability to protect Rory due to his popularity among the females in his pack. She could place the jealousy in Sophie now, and it probably didn't look any better that she'd emerged from Dane's room...looking for Dane. She silently cursed herself for falling prey so easily to Dane's flirting, for letting herself thaw at his compliments and crave his touch.

"I'd like us to be friends," Sophie said as they descended the stairs together. Rory held onto the railing. Sophie did not. "And friends don't steal other friends' boyfriends, do they?"

Growing up alone in a cabin with an ogre hadn't really afforded her much time to study up on girl code, but that rule didn't need to be spelled out for her. Rory shook her head no, just as Sophie nodded.