The Rejected True Heiress (Liora and Callum) novel Chapter 216

Liora’s POV

“I thought I saw you two come out here.” Callum stepped out of the shadows and looked between us both with a discerning eye. “Taking your late night booty call out to the rogue-infested woods might be one way to get a girl to cling to you, I guess. But even you can’t be that stupid, Zane.”

Zane, who had been prepared to fight a moment ago, straightened. I stepped out from behind him and looked at Callum.

When Callum met my gaze, I saw it. That faint flicker of jealousy that had once been there, but disappeared for a long time. I thought I might never see it again, and I hated that seeing it made my heart flutter traitorously.

But it didn’t matter. Callum quickly masked it with anger.

“You’re lucky I don’t report you both to the principal,” he said, jerking his chin toward campus. “Take Liora back to the dorms, Zane. Now.”

“No.” Zane didn’t budge. “Report me if you want, but I’m going on my own.”

“Zane—” I touched his arm, but he shrugged me off.

“I’m going, Liora,” he whispered. His gaze was fierce. “I know it’s reckless, but if she’s still out there, I have to look for her. I have to.”

I stared at Zane, my heart pounding. I searched his face for a crack. For a hint of that smirk he usually wore that would indicate he wasn’t being serious. But I found only cold resolve. And I knew, then, that there was no way I was going to change his mind.

“Fine.” I ground my teeth together. “But I’m going with you.”

Zane’s eyes widened. “No, Liora.”

Then, finally, Callum sighed. “As student council leader, I’d never forgive myself for letting two students get hurt on my watch. I guess I have no choice but to go with you.”

Zane snorted, clapping Callum on the shoulder as he passed. “You can just admit you want to help, man. Don’t always need to be using the student council as an excuse to be a nice person.”

Callum rolled his eyes, but followed quietly.

We made our way deeper into the woods, moving silently across the forest floor. It didn’t take long to find the spot where last night’s incident had occurred; the area had been cordoned off with yellow caution tape, and the air still smelled like blood and pizza.

“Eight pizza boxes.” I hesitated near the edge of the crime scene, stuffing my hands into my jacket pocket while Zane stepped under the caution tape. The boxes were still strewn around, some open and having had the contents picked at by carrion. “She died for eight fucking pizzas.”