Wicked Webs

a long swallow before deigning to respond. “This is Thibault. Did you really expect anything else? They have a reputation to uphold. You think these polished wood floors and marble statues pay for themselves?” he asked, waving a hand around the room. “Thibault is one of the most prestigious supernatural academies in the world, because they cater to the rich and powerful. You don’t fit into that demographic. I’ve been telling you that you don’t belong here for years.”
I wanted to rage at him. “Why are you even over here talking to me?” I asked, wanting him gone. In our five years of attending this academy together, he’d only ever either ignored me completely or bullied me alongside some of the other entitled assholes here.
“Can’t I come over here for a chat with my half-sister?”
I cocked a dark brow. “Careful. You wouldn’t want for people to overhear. The Trant family name would be tainted,” I said bitterly.
Stiles took another drink from his glass. “I never said you tainted the Trant family name,” he said, making me wary. “I just said you didn’t belong here, and I stand by that. I think my point has been proven hundreds of times by now, don’t you?” he asked rhetorically. “Every time you were ridiculed. Every time you were looked down on—not just from our peers, but even the professors. Tonight should prove it to you once and for all. I was meant to come to Thibault. You weren’t. But you never accepted your place, so you suffered through this needlessly.”
Needlessly.
He called my suffering needless. As if it was my fault. As if I deserved to be treated this way simply because I was a poor bastard.
Stiles fucking Trant was handed everything on a silver platter, and I hated him for it.
I suddenly felt utterly exhausted. I was so tired. So tired of always keeping my head up despite how everyone looked down on me. Tired of pushing myself to be the best and never getting any recognition for it. I was tired of being the Trant’s dirty secret.
All that work. All that...enduring. The fucking juvenile bullying. Being passed over. Being known as Thibault’s charity case. I handled it all with my chin up and a chip on my shoulder—all because I knew graduating from Thibault and getting a placement was my only shot at digging myself out of the proverbial slums.
And none of it mattered.
“Just go away, Stiles,” I said defeatedly, turning away from him.
I didn’t have it in me to fight for myself right now. I felt the hot prickles of tears behind my eyes, which was crazy, because I never cried. I kept my emotions in boxes and shoved those impassioned bitches deep, deep down in the cellar of my soul.
I heard Stiles sigh, and then he was slipping another drink in my direction and leaving cash on the bartop to pay for his and mine. “For what it’s worth, Motley, at least you can leave now. Find some place where you fit in. Life will be easier for you that way.”
He got up and sauntered away, immediately being welcomed into the vampire cliques and having a great fucking time shooting the shit with them.
I left the drink he’d bought me untouched on the bartop.
As soon as I was on my feet, I flashed away using my vampiric speed, even though I probably shouldn’t have since I was a bit unsteady on my feet from all the spiked blood I’d ingested.
Everyone was a blur as I passed by, their smiling faces full of excitement, which was taunting to the despair I felt. It wasn’t until I was back in my dorm room with the door slammed shut behind me that I finally let free the ragged breath stuck in my chest.
Gods, my life sucked.
I ran a hand down my face, not caring that I was definitely smudging my makeup. At least Stiles had been right about the one thing I could look forward to. After tomorrow night, I could finally be done with Thibault, and I could leave all of these people behind.
I’d worry about how I was going to live and take care of Aunt Marie later. For now, I just wanted to sleep and forget.
I tucked the loose strands of my red hair behind my ears and kicked off my shoes, letting them slam against the wall. It was a good thing my roommate wasn’t around, or she’d have plenty to say about the noise it made. I slumped on the bed and let my head hang down.
It just wasn’t fair. None of it. I’d been busting my ass all my life, working twice as hard as everyone else to make up for my unimpressive circumstances. I’d done everything in my power to claw my way out of poverty. I kept to myself. I’d endured the bullying from entitled rich kids. Buried my head in textbooks and played the studious, unflappable role, and for what?
“Fucking assholes. All of them,” I murmured while standing up and stripping out of my graduation gown. I let the smooth fabric pool on the ground, but I stopped before removing my uniform skirt when I noticed an envelope on my pillow.
It was perfectly placed, with my name typed on the front. I glanced around the room, noting that there was an identical envelope on my roommate’s bed, too. That was odd.
Tentatively, I walked over and picked mine up, flipping it over and noting the unique seal with the letter S on the back in hardened gold wax.
I ripped it open and tore out the thick parchment.
Dear Miss Motley Coven,
You have been selected for an internship position at Spector Incorporated. This is a very selective and classified program, intended for only the most qualified. We invite you to attend a banquet tomorrow evening at eight o’clock, where you will be inducted into the program and start your training immediately. Formal attire is required, and food and drinks will be served. An escort will be sent