Stone Crest: Rise of a Raven

18. Chapter 18

Chapter eighteen

Locke

I check my watch. Twenty minutes. She’s twenty minutes late. My feet carry me back and forth at the front of the classroom while my students swap opinions on the reading material. I’m not even listening. My wolf is all over the fucking place. Wanting to know where she is.

His questioned is answered when the door to my room opens and Raven stumbles in. Yes stumbles. She has large black sunglasses perched on her nose. A black hoodie that’s three sizes too big, and her hair…. its ratted and…I almost recoil at the stench of the alcohol radiating from her body. Of course, no one else in the room can smell it. But I can. It’s masking her usual minty scent.

She sways on her feet as she makes her way down to Presley. Presley's face shows concern as she watches her plop down next to her without a single care that everyone is gawking at her. She’s not even in school uniform. Something I’m sure the dean has already been made aware of and judging from their conversation yesterday…her father seems to be in his pocket.

I let the conversation die out, which takes all of fifteen minutes before I decide I’m done. “That’s it for today. Dismissed.”

Sounds of relief and chatter start up but I ignore it, storming up the stairs on the left side of the room.

Presley’s eyes widen when I approach. Raven stands, but I shake my head. “Not you. Sit down.”

Raven scoffs, but drops back down, probably because standing makes her want to puke. Presley slips past her. “I think I should take her home.”

“You can go Ms. Aldridge. I will handle her from here.”

I stand against the wall, waiting for the room to empty out.

As soon as it does, I speak. “Take off your glasses.”

“No thanks.” She reaches up, twirling a loose piece of hair that’s falling out of the clip that's shoved onto the top.

“Raven.” I let my alpha command filter in, and she stills before slowly removing them from her beautiful face.

Her eyes are red and puffy, decorated with dark circles. The blue irises are dim, and a glaze passes over them. She’s drunk.

“I’m assuming this is where you go tell the dean. Just hammer in the truth to my father about what a fuck up I am.” She snickers but it’s mixed with an underlying sob.

I crouch down, my hand reaching out to cup her jaw. “Look at me.”

She turns, but her eyes don’t look like the same blue ones from that first night. They’re haunted. Pain filled.

“She begged me. But I couldn’t save her,” she whispers.

“Baby.” The term of endearment slips from my lips so easily.

She lets a sob crack in her chest, and my own feels like it’s breaking right along with hers. “Let’s go.” l push to my feet.

For once, she doesn’t argue. She takes my hand, and like the secret we have to be, we leave out the side entrance.