A Dusk Of Stars

The Chronicles - Book 1

Lyra Forger

A Dusk Of Stars

The Originals of Grimm Academy series

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

First Edition 2024

Cover design: Artscandare

Copyright © 2024 Storycraft OÜ

LYRAFORGER.COM

All rights reserved.

Contents

Prologue

1. Chapter 1

2. Chapter 2

3. Chapter 3

4. Chapter 4

5. Chapter 5

6. Chapter 6

7. Chapter 7

8. Chapter 8

9. Chapter 9

10. Chapter 10

11. Chapter 11

12. Chapter 12

13. Chapter 13

14. Chapter 14

15. Chapter 15

16. Chapter 16

17. Chapter 17

18. Chapter 18

19. Chapter 19

20. Chapter 20

21. Chapter 21

22. Chapter 22

23. Chapter 23

24. Chapter 24

25. Chapter 25

26. Chapter 26

27. Chapter 27

28. Chapter 28

29. Chapter 29

30. Chapter 30

31. Chapter 31

32. Chapter 32

33. Chapter 33

34. Chapter 34

35. Chapter 35

36. Chapter 36

37. Chapter 37

38. Chapter 38

39. Chapter 39

Prologue

Once upon a time, the world was divided into two distinct groups: the Scions, ordinary humans who roamed the earth with dreams and ambitions, and the Originals—vampires, shifters, and fae, beings of magic and mystery.

For millennia, the lands were fraught with tension and strife, as humans and Originals clashed in conflicts that echoed through the ages. The Originals were powerful, but few, and the Scions were thrifty and numerous. Shadows stretching across their lands, the Originals went into hiding, and gradually, Scions forgot of their existence. But the Originals had always been here, hidden in plain sight - in forests, in villages, on thrones.

When conflict began brewing anew, the Brothers Grimm, wielders of ancient tales, penned The Treaty—a simple yet binding pact between Scions and Originals. The Treaty's essence: coexistence. Originals, once shadows among humans, emerged from the cloak of secrecy. 

The Treaty decreed that both Scions and Originals would coexist, each within their own social order. The Originals, rulers of the supernatural, found their place in the intricate tapestry of society. Humans, in turn, retained their world, governed by their own customs and rules. A crucial stipulation of The Treaty, however, mandated that all Originals must attend academies, institutions where they would learn the delicate art of balancing power and responsibility.

In the heart of Germany, Grimm Academy rose. Atop an ancient Originals' underground castle, a place pulsing with potent magic, the Brothers Grimm laid the foundations. Above ground, three magnificent towers, one for each Original bloodline, blended seamlessly with the ancient foundations underneath, a testament to a realm where reality and enchantment intertwined. Known by an ancient name, whispered in the wind, it was The Castle That Isn't—a name echoing the mysteries buried underground, within its unknown walls.

Grimm Academy, shrouded in a mystic ambiance, transcends the mundane. Midnight carries with it the hushed rustle of unseen spirits, shadows assume a life of their own, and secrets are woven into the very fabric of existence.

Chapter 1

I only seem to be able to like this place when I’m leaving. It’s 2AM on a chilly end-of-summer night and I’m standing in the middle of the deserted small-town square. I have my suitcase in hand and my ticket at the ready, my eyes sweeping over the red-brick storefronts and the inconspicuous station building ahead of me. It’s always a relief and it’s always exciting — to leave the all-human town and go back to the Academy, but tonight…

There’s something in the scents of the cold ground and stone all around me, something in the moon shining from behind the tree canopies high above, something telling me this is something else.

I smile and I shake my head. I’m romanticizing things again.

Just as I move to keep walking for the station pub, I hear rushed footfalls behind my back. I turn around and I spot Steve marching towards me.

It makes my eyebrows shoot up. I open my mouth to ask what he’s doing, but he’s already shoving the screen of his phone in my face.

“‘Won’t be able to make it tonight after all. Thanks for everything,’” he recites in an incredulous tone. “Really, Anna?”

From the way he says it, you’d think it was the love of my life I’d left with nothing but those words. But instead of getting sucked into the drama, I choose to make light of it. Smiling, I say playfully, “I thought I told you I was leaving today. You know how it goes with packing.”

He takes a step back, frowning. “You could’ve at least come to say goodbye.”

What for? So I could look into the eyes of the guy I’ve been sleeping with for the past three months and only feel more alone? “Well, goodbye?” I say with a smile.

“Come on, Anna,” he urges as he takes a step closer. “Don’t we have a good thing going?”

“We did, yeah,” I reply, still smiling.

“So? Don’t you want to see where it takes us?”

I have to fight not to let out a sigh. “I think I told you exactly where it’ll be taking us when we started it.”

He laughs. “You know, you independent women, you all say that these days.”

I still want to part on good terms, but I press my lips tight, saying in a colder voice, “Some of us mean it.”

He throws his arms up, letting out a pent-up breath.

Then he shakes his head and looks into my eyes. “When’s your… that thing leaving?”

Typical Steve. Just like most people in this town, he doesn’t even want to mention anything having to do with the Originals. “In half an hour,” I tell him.

“I’ll wait with you,” he says with determination in his voice, already looking around for a spot.

“No need,” I rush to say, “I’ll be having a cup of coffee on my own, it’s a tradition of sorts.”

“In there?” he demands as he motions at the red-brick facade behind my back. “Alone? The place is probably crawling with them.”

I have to fight not to roll my eyes at how hell-bent he seems to be on playing the knight in shining armor, despite the fact I see no fucking damsel in distress anywhere around here.

“I’m off to spend another year working alongside them,” I tell him, in a noticeably colder voice, “so I think I’m good.”

I move to walk away, but I guess my life choices have once again touched a nerve, because he blocks my way to say, “It’s not natural, Anna.”

This time, I actually do roll my eyes at him, but he doesn’t stop. “And I’d understand if it were a last-resort kind of thing. But it’s not the only place you could get a job as a goddamn librarian.”

I take a deep breath and then a step closer to him. “This is Grimm Academy we’re talking about, Steve. So sure, maybe it’s not the only place.” I grin. “But it’s the very best one. Goodbye,” I say in a final tone of voice, smiling and waving as I turn around, “and have a good life.”

“You’re seriously leaving?” I hear him raise his voice. “You know, you’re twenty nine, Anna, you’re not getting any younger.”

Yeah, and I have fat on my stomach, and a huge ass, and one day, I’ll turn to dust. So what?

I just keep walking towards the pub. I guess I’ve made it clear enough that we’re done here, because he doesn’t follow.

My frustration with him dissipates almost as soon as he’s out of my sight. He’s not the first guy who’s pretended to be nice right up until I said no to him. It’s sad, but that’s just how men are.

He’s definitely not the first person who’s felt the call to restore me to the right path. But I never told him why I was working at an Academy for Originals. He probably thinks it’s for the money — humans tend to think all Originals are rich beyond belief. I wonder how he’d feel if I told him the truth — that I don’t find it endlessly terrifying or even unsettling to be around vampires, shifters and faes. That I can’t seem to live in a world with magic without trying to get as close to it as possible.

I huff a laugh through my nose. He’d probably tell me I need therapy, I think as I approach the wooden pub door, the glossy black paint peeling off in strips down its length.

Taking a lungful of the crisp night air, I open the door, step into the cozy, dimly lit little space and look around.

As usual this time of night, it’s still noisy, but there’s only the fae bartender behind the beer-stained wooden bar to my left and a group of people giving off shifter vibes sitting around low tables to my right, framed retro posters adorning the soot-stained walls.

Perfect, I think with a smile. I’ll have my coffee and in no time, I’ll be back at the Academy.

But just as I close the door behind me and move to grab the table in the far right corner — the one closest to the three doors on the wall opposite me, my phone pings.

An email from Professor Naehorn.

My eyebrows shoot up. I know it’s two o’clock in the afternoon there, but it’s strange for her to be sending anything before the first faculty meeting of the year.

Then I skim over the text. Jaeger has resigned. Unexpectedly, but for real.

Almost instantly, my heart sinks.

***

My mind is buzzing, and it’s on autopilot that I order a black coffee and start making my way to the table. No one pays me any attention — not the bartender watching something on the screen above her, not the rowdy group of tattooed shifters with beers in front of them, not even the attractive young couple I only spot once I walk past the shifters. They’re both on their phones, the girl’s legs thrown lazily over the guy’s.

Vampires? I’m almost positive that he is, but you can never know for sure.

My mind rushes back to the email. I walk past the couple, put my coffee and my tote down on the table in front of me and my suitcase on the floor. I sit down, making sure I’m facing the middle of the three doors on the back wall.

It’s then that it starts becoming real.

She just left?

Trying to sip my coffee despite it still being piping hot, I try to remember if she’s given me any hints.

Is she ill? Fuck.

No, she’s one tough vampire, and they don’t get sick so easily. She’s probably just gotten fed up with the Academy.

But to leave without telling me?

Something nudges me to look over my shoulder, in the direction of the girl from the young couple. For a second, I think she’s looking at me, then I realize she’s just inconspicuously staring at her guy with adoration in her eyes.

Human, no doubt about it, I think as I tear my eyes away. The way she’s trying to carry herself… She just looks too much like one of those humans who can’t seem to make peace with one very simple thing — the fact that you can’t be turned into a vampire, you can only be born as one.

Still, there’s something else there…

Something that makes me want to go over and ask whether she truly understands — how many Originals there are who couldn’t care less about whether we humans live or die in misery.

None of your business, I tell myself. Don’t get yourself in trouble.

My coffee now just the right temperature, I finally take that proper first sip. Jaeger was one of the few at the Academy who never seemed to care that I was human. Who never tried to make my life miserable or disrespected me simply for not being one of them. Besides helping me get the position of Librarian in the first place, she was the closest I had to an actual friend there, and more than once, she’s willingly taken on the role of mentor with me.

And now she’s gone.

What snaps me out of my ruminations is the soft ping that comes from the middle of the three doors in front of me.

My eyes dart to the sign above, the green light now turned on.

I hear the scraping of chairs against the floor when the vampire and his girl get up.

I take another sip of my coffee, but as soon as I do, I grab my tote and my suitcase and I walk up to the door.

Just as I open it and step onto the vast, noisy, crowded space that is the Pull Platform, sensing the vampire and his girl following suit, it finally hits me — what the resignation means among other things.

That the Archivist role is now open.

I hold my breath, the possibility of me applying for the job and getting it exploding in my mind.

***

It snaps me out of it, when that vampire pushes past me.

“Bloody move, will you?” he snaps without even looking at me.

The girl moves to follow him, throwing a look over her shoulder. In a split second, our eyes meet, I make the mistake of truly looking. She stops midstep, staring into my eyes.

My gaze drops to her lips, to the bite marks on them.

Then our eyes lock again and I see the pain and shame in hers. There’s a moment of silence before she whispers, “I sometimes feel so alone, I want to die...”

She breaks off and keeps standing there, breathless in anticipation.

“Nothing to be ashamed about,” I whisper, feeling breathless myself. “It's hard.” And I move to hold my hand out.

“Sofia,” the vampire’s impatient, scolding voice booms from somewhere behind her, and I see her pulling herself together, confusion and shame twisting her features.

I open my mouth to call after her.

The very next moment, I see her disappear into the crowd.

I keep standing there, my mind lingering on her eyes, and her eyes filling me with sadness. Then my mind rushes to her ‘boyfriend’ and I feel anger swell inside me.

No, not going there, I snap at myself.

I force myself to shake it off and start looking for the right Chamber. The world is a shit place, if you really look, there’s pain in the eyes of almost everyone you ever see. Some people are just better at hiding it.

So yeah, serves me right for letting my guard down like that.

I look around the Pull Platform, the crowded, echoing hall all in onyx stone stretching endlessly to my left and right, people coming out of the rows of doors behind me and disappearing through the rows of doors in front of me. I identify the longest queue, the one mostly made up of students, and I join it, taking a look at the sign above the door we’re all waiting for, just to check if it really is the Grimm Academy one.

It is.

As soon as I settle into the waiting and slowly moving in line, my mind rushes back to the open position. They’ll need to fill it, as soon as possible. The selection processes at Grimm Academy are far from standardized. They always give you a task to earn the position with, but what they choose varies wildly depending on who you are and how much you still need to prove yourself.

How amazing would it be, to have access to everything — all the censored materials, all the forbidden works, even the Lexarcanum?

Talk about magic.

Squeezing my suitcase handle tighter, I watch the last of the students before me enter the Pull Chamber and close the door. In my mind, I’m trying to figure out whether I have a chance by listing all my qualifications.

This will be my fourth year working at the Academy, I’m already a librarian and I’ve been an exemplary employee. When the Academy needed more space for the Eastern Runology section, it was me who reorganized the entire system to house it. When that student got cursed by that book, it was me who saved him from certain death.

I wait for the green light meaning that the student before me has been successfully transported and I enter the Pull Chamber myself, which from the inside looks much like a bathroom stall without the toilet.

I thought working as a librarian at the world-famous Grimm Academy would be the highest I could go.

What if I was wrong?

The magic sucks me in and spits me out — nauseous and wobbly as always — into the Chamber on castle grounds, on the grass near the central Dame Gothel statue. This particular Chamber is just a tall, round cast-iron fence. I open the door and step outside, pausing in the hopes that my knees will stop shaking.

They don’t, but the Pull Chamber starts glowing again so I get moving, not wanting the next traveler to bump into me.

I’d normally say fuck it and head straight for the Grimm Tower, but now I get drawn to the Dame Gothel statue. It’s one of my favorite places on Academy grounds, probably because it was the first I’d ever seen with my own two eyes. There’s the large cobblestone ring with grass shooting from between the stones, and at its center, one of the biggest statues I’ve ever seen. Rising from the weathered stone pedestal, there’s one of my fondest depictions of Dame Gothel — standing with her feet firmly on the ground, as if preparing for some important moment in history, her long robe and wild hair billowing in the wind.

I come to sit on one of the lichen-covered benches surrounding the statue. I take a deep breath and let my eyes sweep over the castle grounds. Behind me, to the south, there’s the somber Grimm Tower and the only stretch of the wall that can be seen without venturing too far away from the garden.

To the west, north and east there are the student towers. There’s the elegant, smooth Lilith Tower with barren Graf Hill watching its back, the rough-looking Lycan Tower with the Lycan Forest looming from behind, and the leaning, vine-covered Ydril Tower shooting up from the shore of the Sobbing Lake.

The effects of the thrill of thinking about going for the job are still there, but now, watching the newly arrived students buzz around the gardens…

Vampire. Shifter. Fae. They were all born to go to places like the Academy, to fit in, to find their purpose there. Am I kidding myself even thinking about this?

Let’s say everything goes as planned and I actually get the position of Archivist, the Chief of Grimm Academy Library Restricted Sections. It’s one that comes not just with perks, but with great responsibility to very delicate, valuable possessions. To all my not-so-welcoming colleagues, it would mean a better opportunity to get rid of me once and for all, if they only wished to.

Fuck, that’s not good.

If I go for this job, I’m risking losing everything I’ve worked for since I finally managed to put the past behind me.

My eyes get drawn to a spot just outside the cobblestone ring, to the north, where the beaten patch of grass marks the place of the ‘secret’ entrance into the underground castle itself. At least it used to be secret, before it got turned into an Academy and before the towers got erected.

No wonder they called it The Castle that Isn’t…

It makes me remember those times I’d manage to sneak out to go to the local library and read Grimm’s fairy tales.

I’m a shifter, I’d recite to myself, and I can turn into an animal so small, there’s no place I can’t hide.

I’m a fae and I have sight so powerful, there’s nothing that can escape me.

I’m a vampire and I can run so fast, there’s no place I can’t go.

I’d spend hours daydreaming about getting a chance to meet some of the characters from my favorite fairy tales — Sleeping Beauty, Rapunzel, Vasilisa the Wise.

It makes me let out a soft scoff, remembering how naive that child was. It was only years later that I realized things aren’t as straightforward as that. Sure, fairy tales are based in real life. Sometimes, the characters you come across while reading them are actual historical people, like in the case of Dame Gothel. More often than not, the tales were just desperate attempts by us humans to explain what was hiding in plain sight, like predatory wolf shifters being merged into a single figure of the Big Bad Wolf.

Then again, what was truly naive of me was daydreaming about the Pied Piper using her Flute to whisk my sorry human ass to an Academy for Originals.

But for some reason, even now, this place is the only place I want to be.

So no, I won’t be letting someone else take on the role. If I did that, I’d be missing out on what could turn out to be the opportunity of a lifetime.

Chapter 2

A cup of coffee in my hand, I’m almost through the door into the already buzzing Lounge when I hear Carrel and Nolan’s voices drift up to me. I stop and turn around, my lips curling into a smile as I give my two Librarian colleagues a tip of my chin in greeting. Carrel — the tall, energetic wolf shifter throws me a grin, while Nolan — the smirking, pale vampire just walks up to me and starts lifting a fist to my upper arm.

As always, just like I was taught in my Krav Maga classes, I clench my muscles just before he gives me a punch in greeting. It hurts, but I manage to keep the smile on my face with only a slight gritting of my teeth. Everyone here already knows I’m completely defenseless against them. Hell if I’m going to be drawing any unnecessary attention to it.

“Missed you, Anna,” he says with a smirk, his eyes narrowing as they always do when he tries to get a reaction out of me like this.

“Aw, that’s cute.” Then I grin. “Can’t say the feeling’s mutual though.”

They both laugh and the three of us walk into the Lounge together, the smile sliding off my face as soon as we do. After all, these two are among the most harmless of all my colleagues.

Her being the headmaster, we seem to still be waiting for the Pied Piper. As I take my seat at the round central table with the rest of the faculty members gathered for the meeting, my eyes dart to the front, where I find Serra Naehorn and Lorcan MacArthur sitting to the left and right of the empty headmaster’s seat, leaning over it to chat.

It’s not Serra I’m cautious of. Her cane leaned against the armrest of her chair, the sickly fae woman in a flowy blue jumpsuit and with blonde hair pulled into a tight bun seems to always be in pain, but she handles it with such stoicism and I’ve never seen her snap or be mean to anyone.

My biggest problem in this room is Lorcan, the stocky bear shifter with a crew cut who wears the traditional brown professor’s robe and his family’s signet rings with such insufferable pride. Of course, it’s not that which bothers me about him. After all, he does seem to be a conscientious professor and a good role-model to the kids, which I admire about him.

I see his eyes sweep over the room, locking with mine for a split second and narrowing in hatred.

That’s what bothers me. His unyielding prejudice against me as a human, despite all my efforts to dispel it.

I shrug it off, going back to enjoying my coffee and being too distracted to join in the chit-chat.

I guess you could say I haven’t been this nervous in a long, long time, but the mere sight of the Lounge is enough to get me battle ready.

When I first saw it, it seemed more than a little creepy, like I imagine any room doubling as a war room would. It’s large, circular and pretty dimly lit considering it’s still early afternoon, the only light coming through the arrow slits carved into the stone high above our heads. The table we’re sitting around is large and made of ancient-looking stone, its severity barely softened by the cozy, colorful armchairs placed along the walls.

But over the years, I started finding the room inspiring. So while we’re waiting for the meeting to start, I keep glancing around, reciting the arguments in favor of my case that I came up with while unpacking.

I know the Library like the back of my hand.

Last year the students named me Librarian of the Year.

I’m dedicated, responsible and passionate about the work.

What snaps me out of my ruminations is the chatter suddenly dying down. I know the Pied Piper has entered the room and my throat instantly tightens. I crane my neck to watch her unusually tall figure in a long black cloak glide over the rough stone floor and stop next to her chair at the front of the table.

I’ve been around Originals for three years now, but there’s something about this woman that still unsettles me. With her smooth pale skin, sharp angular jawline and shiny raven braid, Johanna de Groot looks barely over thirty. But however elusive they are, there are so many things about her that betray her actual age, which was three hundred and four years old when I last checked.

The way her eyes — the sharp, intelligent eyes of a predator — are sweeping over us as if we were little more than children placed in her care.

The way she carries herself — her movements slow to the point of seeming lazy, but the more you watch them, the more you see just how incredibly controlled and brimming with power they are.

Or the fact she barely ever goes to the effort of speaking, as if it almost never happens that something is actually worth saying.

This is it, I think as I watch her take her seat in silence. Her presence is unsettling for sure, but it also never fails to excite and inspire me.

The Pied Piper skims the paper with the minutes for the meeting placed in front of her and gives Serra — who’s not just the Professor of Divine Magic, but de Groot’s right hand as well — a barely perceptible nod to start the meeting.

A rush of thrill floods me from head to toe.

***

As the meeting drags on, I stay on high alert, waiting for the topic of the replacement to be broached. It’s becoming hard, especially since the Pied Piper’s buried her nose in her papers and is letting the children fight amongst themselves in tedious detail.

Finally, Serra concludes the current topic and says, her smooth, sandy voice echoing against the stone walls, “Now onto our next order of business — new arrivals and changes in faculty positions.”

Fuck yeah. There’s never any new arrivals, so it’ll be straight to the matter of my new role. I sit straight, inhaling deeply.

Serra glances around the table with a straight face. “This year, we have a new professor joining us.”

Huh? My eyebrows shoot up as an excited murmur rises all around me. Now everyone seems to be on high alert.

“And you’ve waited this long to tell us?” the scrawny Professor of Runology demands with a chuckle.

“Who is it? Is it O’Connor?” another professor chimes in.

Serra shakes her head. There’s this weird, tense little smile on her face as she says, “His name is Jericho Bane and he’ll be teaching Shapeshifting Studies.”

My eyebrows pull down, the name sounding familiar.

“Bane, you said?” Head of House of Lilith echoes. “As in Bane Incorporated?”

That makes the logo flash before my eyes — the stylized flame I’ve seen on everything from sports uniforms to fronts of casinos.

There’s a moment of silence before it bursts with questions from all around the table.

“Silence,” Lorcan snaps in his deep, guttural voice. “It’s undignified, to get yourselves worked up like this over some random man.”

I catch this weird look that Serra throws him, but Head of House of Lilith beats her to it. “You can say what you want about him, but he’s definitely not a ‘random man’.”

“I don’t care how rich he is,” Lorcan says with a glare in his direction. “As soon as he steps foot in this Academy, he’s lower status than any of the actual professors gathered here.”

I roll my eyes.

“I don’t understand why we’re even letting him come here,” the Professor of Runology agrees. “It’s questionable at best what kind of influence that kind of man will exert over our students.”

True. After all, Bane sounds like one of those shriveled-up old assholes sitting on the riches left to them by other shriveled-up old assholes, rubbing his palms while continuing the legacy of exploiting people’s weaknesses. So I myself am wondering why the Academy would hire someone like that. Playing politics or hoping for donations aren’t excuses enough, not for bringing that kind of man among impressionable students.

But gods, I can’t say I’m liking all this animosity…

Serra breathes a sigh. “Thankfully,” she says pointedly, “Mister Bane, or should I say Professor Bane, has been detained from coming to this meeting. I hope you’ll be on better behavior when you meet him at tonight’s Opening Ceremony.“ And there’s a finality in her voice when she continues, “But I believe you’ve all received my email about the Archivist.”

Finally. My colleagues don’t seem too happy about the change of subject, but they comply.

“Bloody hell,” Head of House of Lilith curses with a smirk. “Talk about timely notices.”

Serra ignores the remark. “We’ll be needing a replacement, of course,” she says, her eyes sweeping over us all. “Are there any Librarians who’d like to take the role on?”

I give the other potential candidates a chance to nominate themselves first, so as not to appear unfair or pushy.

To my surprise, no one does. Although, when I think about it, it is a tedious, solitary kind of work.

I inhale deeply. This is it, this is the moment. “I would, Professor Naehorn.”

The Pied Piper doesn’t look up from her papers, but everyone else’s eyes immediately dart to me, Lorcan’s being the ones filled with most contempt. Of course they would. He was the one most opposed to the Academy hiring a human Librarian.

There’s a second of silence as I muster the courage to keep going. “This will be my fourth year working as a Librarian here,” I start reciting, keeping my eyes locked with Serra’s, “I know the Library like the back of my hand—”

“Thank you, Miss Novak,” Serra cuts me off. It stings, but at least she’s smiling as she explains, “There’s no need, we all know each other here, don’t we?”

I don’t get a chance to react.

“And you’re a Scion,” I hear Lorcan add, disgust lacing his every word. My eyes dart to him. “So it’s enough that you’re in the role you’re in right now.” He leans back in his chair, looking around the table in search of approval. “I don’t think we should be giving you a promotion.”

My mind buzzing, I don’t look away, but with the corner of my eyes, I see others nodding away.

Fuck, he’s ruining this for me.

Quick, do something.

“Okay, alright,” I start, fighting to keep my breathing calm and my voice without poison, “so there are human men you’ll build statues of, but in my case, it’s the bloodline that’s problematic?”

Just as he’s about to snap something back at me, someone else’s voice makes him instantly shut his mouth.

“Miss Novak,” the Pied Piper drawls softly, making my head snap to the front of the table. Our eyes meet and blood curdles in my veins. She leans a little forward. “Brothers Grimm were visionary men,” she says in a slow voice, still staring into my eyes, “men who had the courage to seek us out, make us come out of hiding and suffer all the rage of the men who, at the time, would rather die than try to live peacefully with us.”

There’s a moment of silence during which all I can think about is that she was there when it happened.

Then, her lips curling into a smirk, she demands, “What is it that you did that makes you believe your two cases, as you say, are comparable?”

“Nothing,” I rush to say, cursing myself for making such a stupid error in judgment. “And if that’s how it came off, I sincerely apologize.”

For a second, we just stare at each other. Despite the urge to look away, I keep my eyes locked with hers.

Finally, she asks, “You really want the position, do you?”

Pressing my lips with determination, I nod. “I do.”

I hear Lorcan let out a scoff.

I grit my teeth and I keep looking at the Pied Piper, but I say, “I’m not asking for charity here.” I look around the table, determined to stand my ground. “You have no one else fighting for the position. If it turns out I can’t do the job, I’ll be the first to address the problem.” I pause, my tone dead serious as I say, “But I know I’m up to the task.”

I almost breathe a sigh of relief when I see the Pied Piper start slowly nodding away.

“Apologies, veneranda,” Lorcan cuts in, “but we can’t commit, at least not until she’s written her name in the Book of Librarians.”

It makes my blood boil when I see how pleased he is with himself.

“That’s not something we do,” Serra protests. “Not any longer, at least. It doesn’t come without dangers.”

“But it’s a good way to determine whether someone can be trusted,” Lorcan replies sweetly.

I turn my eyes back onto the Pied Piper. My shoulders slump when I see her lips curl into a mischievous little smile.

She nods.

Dammit.

It’s Serra that addresses me next. “Miss Novak, you’ll get access to the Restricted Section for the day. That’s plenty of time for you, even before the Opening Ceremony tonight. Do you accept this task?”

I glance at the Pied Piper, but she’s already going back to the papers in front of her.

“I’ll do it,” I turn to say to Serra.

With the corner of my eye, I can see the smug little smile on Lorcan’s face. He probably thinks I’ll fail the test.

I’ll give it my all if it’s the last thing I do, but hell… It makes me anxious just thinking about the Book’s magic.

Chapter 3

Of all the things they could’ve assigned to me… Focus, I urge myself as I step into the Library, the plush red carpet muffling my footsteps.

I stop, glancing up at the gallery to my left, where I can already see the plain wooden door leading into the Restricted Section.

Another wave of anxiousness floods me from head to toe. I can’t seem to make up my mind about which scenario would be worse for me — successfully signing my name or failing to do it.

From what I could gather back when I had the fascination with it, the Book of Librarians can gauge your intentions about the Academy. The mechanics of its magic, however, are not known, which means I can’t come up with a plan to stop it from digging too deep.

While my sincerest intention is to be the best Archivist that has ever worked at the Academy, there are some things I’d prefer to keep to myself.

Just keep moving, I tell myself. Luckily, the Library is still empty so it’s in silence that I walk up the stairs and stop in front of the two guards posted around the Restricted Sections entrance. It’s Derek and Layla this time. I open my mouth to tell them I have clearance from the Pied Piper for the day.

But Derek is already opening the door for me, his lips curling into a smile as he says, “Congrats on finally getting a peek.”

It makes me let out a low laugh. I shake my head, say, “Thanks, you know me so well,” and I step through the door.

It startles me, when I hear them close the door behind me, and I find myself in a room with no windows, in silence even more total than the one on the Main Floor. Compared to it, this room — because the Restricted Sections area is more like a beehive of separate rooms connected with often hidden doors — is cramped, dimly lit and, well… It’s less organized, to say the least, I think as my eyes sweep over the books stacked into veritable towers between the overflowing bookshelves.

It makes a thrill rush down my spine, just thinking how organized I could make it.

I first need to get the fucking job, don’t I?

Treading carefully, I keep walking until I find a small desk with a single book on it.

That’s it. It’s just lying there, open and waiting for me to do my thing. Back to being excited, I walk up to it, I take the pen off the weathered wooden surface and I decide to just give it a try.

As soon as I lay the tip of the pen onto the rough paper surface below the last signed name, a painful jolt of electricity rushes through me.

I double back, dropping the pen to the floor.

What the…

I thought the magic would just start digging around my intentions about this job. This felt more like it was trying to open doors that I keep locked, things that have nothing to do with what I’m trying to achieve here.

I swallow around a lump in my throat, but despite the implied danger, I decide not to give up.

Frowning, I get the pen and try again, but all I get is another jolt of electricity. A more painful one this time.

I try again.

And again.

The fifth time I try, the magic leaves a burn on the fingers of my right hand, the one holding the pen.

I inhale deeply, fighting not to lose my cool.

Gritting my teeth, I remain standing there with the pen in my hand, my mind buzzing in search of potential solutions.

As a human, there’s nothing I can really do here but keep trying.

Hesitant to feel another one of those jolts, I keep holding the pen in my hand, but instead of trying to write my name again, I start skimming the ones already signed.

The last one is Orpheus, the second to last Zahur, then Fionnuala.

It makes me more hopeful, when I see it’s just first names.

As I skim, something starts happening with my vision. There’s this soft burst of light that blinds me for a second, making me grip onto the table.

Confused, I keep standing there even once it passes, staring at the book in front of me. I don’t know how else to describe it, what I feel next. Like something giving in deep inside me.

I don’t have time to linger on it.

The pen still in my hand and my eyebrows pulled down, I notice this soft movement somewhere ahead.

My heart racing and my ears pricked up, I let go of the desk and fix my eyes on the room in front of me, catching something black disappear behind that bookshelf over there.

For a second, I just keep looking at it, this powerful restlessness filling my limbs with the need to get going.

Don’t, I warn myself. They didn’t send you here to snoop around.

Still, the curiosity that’s drawing me…

It’s simply irresistible.

Slowly and on shaky knees, I start making my way between the bookshelves, until I see it again.

My eyebrows shoot up. It's a black cat that's just disappeared behind yet another bookshelf.

Without a moment of hesitation, I follow it, until I reach the last bookshelf to the right.

I peer behind and see a plain wooden door. No cat to be seen anywhere, but now the door is drawing me to it, irresistibly.

There’s a part of me that screams stop, but I don’t. I’m already holding out my hand and grabbing the doorknob.

The door opens with a soft creak. I peer inside, the sight before me immediately taking my breath away. I start walking — very slowly — down the polished stone tiles. It’s a relatively small, brightly but softly lit circular room with shelves carved into the ornate stone all around me. At the center, there’s a solitary stone pillar, looking as if it’s been placed there for perusing the books.

The cat doesn't seem to be here. But the energy emanating from the books — leather bound tomes, delicate rolls of parchment, even some modern-looking paperbacks… It's outstanding.

Holy shit, I curse when I finally realize where I am.

The Lexarcanum. The place where books choose people instead of the other way around.

Fuck. I definitely am not supposed to be here. As soon as I start turning back to the door, I feel the energy draw my eyes in the opposite direction.

I freeze, my jaw dropping when I look up a little.

There’s a book — a very old-looking tome — struggling to wriggle itself out of one of the top shelves.

My mouth still open, I watch it glide through the air and land on the stone pillar.

For a second, I just look at it. Then, looking around as if to share my shock with someone although there’s no one here with me, I walk up to the book.

I stare at it, frowning.

There’s no title, just a symbol on the bottom center of the cover — a cross with a stylized wheel on top that for some reason looks so familiar.

Before I even realize what I’m doing, I lift my hand and I touch the book.

The moment I do, the world around me falls silent. A shock of pain sets my very nerve endings on fire and I see everything around me explode in light, before it turns pitch black.

Then there it is, hitting me like a wave.

The knock.

***

There’s a sea of grass around me, and I’m making my way through it as if through water, pushing but never getting anywhere. There’s the tower shooting up into the sky somewhere on the gloomy, sticky horizon, and I’m so close, but every time I think I’m about to reach it, it retreats into the distance.

There’s this dread nestled in my throat, seeping into my bones. I’m running from something, and I can’t look behind. Whatever I do, I can’t look behind.

I keep running, or trying to, and all of a sudden, I find myself inside the tower, its stone walls at the same time seeming to shoot up into the air and crumble all around me.

Not crumble. Get swallowed by vines.

Fear floods my body with ice-cold fire. I look down to see my feet getting swallowed. I try to force my legs to obey, to start running again, but now my eyelids are getting so heavy, I can barely keep my eyes open.

It’s only getting closer, I can feel it breathing from the darkness that’s spreading from everywhere around me, before everything turns black.

***

I’m kneeling on the cold stone floor of the Lexarcanum, gasping for air and trying to blink the images and shove the feelings away.

What the hell just happened to me? I push myself up, my knees shaking as I do.

The book is still lying on the pillar before me, looking innocent as hell, while I’m here still fighting for air, feeling raw and disoriented like I haven’t felt in ages.

I run my hands down my face, trying to force myself to calm down.

Then this creepy clock sounds from somewhere behind me, making my heart stop.

I lower my hands — slowly because I’m dreading what I’ll see, I glance at my watch and just like that, all hope deserts me.

It’s eight o’clock, the Opening Ceremony is starting and I haven’t signed my name in the Book of Librarians.

Desolate, I force my legs to obey and start leading me out of the Lexarcanum. You have until tomorrow, I remind myself.

It doesn’t make it any better. I stop by the Book of Librarians, knowing I wouldn’t be able to make it work for me even if I had a whole week.

Out of sheer desperation, I pick the pen up again and I press the tip onto the paper.

There’s no jolt of electricity this time. Just the gliding of the ink-soaked tip across the yellowed paper.

My eyebrows raised, I finish signing my first name, put the pen down and take a step back.

How did I just manage to do that?

For a second, I just keep standing there, my mind buzzing as I try to figure out what the fuck is going on with me.

Even if it weren’t for feeling raw and disoriented… There’s something wrong.

I decide I shouldn’t be pushing my luck any further and I force myself to snap out of it. It’ll pass. Something weird happened here and it’ll take me a couple of minutes to go back to feeling normal.

So I take a deep breath, put the pen back and rush out of the Restricted Section, heading straight for the Opening Ceremony.

Chapter 4

It surprises me, that none of it stops even after I put some distance between myself and the Restricted Section. Still disoriented, I stop moving as soon as I enter the solitary winding staircase leading from the Library down to the Dining Hall. I’m already late for the Opening Ceremony, but the images and the feelings just won’t stop attacking me, and it’s so dark and comforting here and I can’t show my face around people while I’m still like this.

So I take a seat on the top step and cradle my face in the palms of my hands. Why do I feel like I’m on the verge of crying? I haven’t cried since I was ten years old.

The images I saw back there and the feelings they evoke are relentless and powerful. Then there’s another one, one from my own childhood that threatens to surface.

The room, the details of it mercilessly starting to come into focus — the cold light shining from the lavish chandelier, the shadows in the corners around the carved bookshelves, the clumsy notches on the granite windowsill.

Desperate to shake the images off, I grab onto the first question that arises. Why is it resurfacing now, when it’s been a literal decade since I’ve last thought of it?

It’s all because of the Lexarcanum book, that much is clear.

It’s so intriguing, but it’s also making me wonder… Was it some kind of magic or was it just me being messed up?

I look up and out the window, the light slanting through only somewhat breaking the darkness. Out there, I can see the shadowy castle grounds with the Dame Gothel statue rising from the overgrown garden like an apparition, but I know what I see isn’t real.

That is, I can be sure only because I know the windows in the castle itself are enchanted to show the world above ground. If I didn’t know that, the masterfulness of the illusion would trick me into believing I was seeing the real thing.

That’s magic — real-life, actual magic.

Then there’s that thing I sometimes do. I see something interesting and my mind floods with images of ages past or places across the world, my imagination — or the desire for the thing to be something more than it is — making them so vivid and powerful, it’s almost like they’re real.

Is that what happened to me back there, I wonder as I keep staring out the window. Was it just a flight of fancy, no magic involved whatsoever?

My frown only grows deeper when another, more important question pops into my head.

Whatever it was that happened in the Lexarcanum… Should I tell anyone?

I imagine myself approaching Serra to tell her I’ve finished the task, but popped into the Lexarcanum in the process. Would she even give me the chance to mention what happened with the book and what I saw when I touched it? Or would she just fire me right then and there?

Goddamn it, I think with a pissed-off sigh. Did I really need this?

There’s the Opening Ceremony to think of, so I have to make a decision, stat.

I know I only have two options. To say something or to keep my mouth shut. But neither is sitting right with me.

If I tell someone — anyone, I might be taking my win away from myself. It would be well within the rights of the faculty to actually fire me. Even if they let me keep working as a Librarian…

My version of the events sounds too much like I’m saying I got picked by a book in the Lexarcanum, and we all know there’s no instance of that ever happening to a human.

So instead of just being ‘the filthy Scion’, I might end up being ‘the Scion with delusions of grandeur’.

I really want the Archivist job and I really don’t want to spend the rest of my days being seen as some stupid narcissist.

But…

If I choose to keep my mouth shut, will the truth still find a way to bite me in the ass, somewhere down the road?

Or more importantly, will I be fucking something up without even knowing it? The Lexarcanum magic is Divine Magic. Unlike Nature, Element and Mind Magic, it eludes explanations and is highly unpredictable even in its simplest forms.

Fuck. I literally can’t see a solution that wouldn’t either rob me of my dreams or make me a potential culprit in something larger than myself.

I still feel so disoriented and exposed, but if I don’t start moving now...

I push myself off the stairs and rush down to Level Minus Two. I start hearing the usual murmur coming from the Dining Hall even before I step onto the hallway with the faculty entrance.

What was I thinking? I haven’t made my decision yet.

I spot Professor Byrne stopping in front of the door with some man I’ve never seen before.

I keep walking, wondering if Serra’s already inside.

Byrne is telling something to the man as he leads him inside, but just as he’s about to walk in, the man’s gaze darts to mine and he stops midstep, his hand on the doorknob.

I only register the eyes as they lock with mine — deep but burning brown, sucking me in and lingering.

For one beat, two.

I almost stop walking. Suddenly, I’m hot in my skin and my knees are wobbly.

Frowning, I force myself to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

I sense the man’s gaze linger on me as I pass him by, prolonging the torture.

It’s only then that I realize I’ve just walked past the faculty entrance instead of going inside.

For crying out loud, Anna, I tell myself, get your shit together. For no other reason than to save face, I keep walking down the hallway, unable to shake off the image of those eyes — the sharp shape of them and that unusually striking color.

I throw a glance over my shoulder and see the man is gone. I breathe a sigh of relief. Just as I decide to stop and go back, I spot Serra walking towards me.

I give her a faint smile and the next thing I know, we’re standing in the middle of the hallway and she’s saying something, but her words are drifting to me as if through water.

Because there’s something inside me that wasn’t there before.

A presence.

Living, breathing, watching.

And they’re out of focus somehow, but I can see Serra’s eyes narrow at me and I can feel the touch of her hand on my upper arm, but my mind is buzzing and blank all at once and it’s taking all I have not to turn on my heel and flee into the safety of my room.

I catch myself running my hand down my face, saying, “Sorry, Professor Naehorn, I just…”

The next thing I know, her face is coming into focus again. “It’s alright. I take it you’ve completed your task?”

I just look at her for a second, realizing that this is the moment of truth. This is the moment I either tell her or keep my mouth shut.

It’s right then and there that I decide that it wasn’t my fault — that I ended up in the Lexarcanum. Even if I did mess something up, I’ll find out and I’ll fix it.

My lips curl into a smile. I’ll fix it as the Grimm Academy Archivist.

“Yes, Professor Naehorn,” I finally tell Serra. “I’ve completed the task.”

She gives me a smile. “You know, you don’t have to attend the ceremony if you’re too worn out.”

Now my stomach is fluttering with excitement. Sure, I feel more messed up than I’ve felt in ages, but it’s just the effects of the Restricted Section magic. Hell if I’m going to let that take this moment away from me — taking the Archivist’s seat at the Grimm Academy Opening Ceremony, in front of everyone who’s ever failed to take me seriously.

Chapter 5

My mind is still buzzing, but I register Professor Byrne droning on even before we walk inside. The Dining Hall anteroom is dimly lit and filled with professors standing around in groups with drinks in their hands, all turned in Byrne’s direction. That man is standing right next to him, looking over his shoulder to watch Serra and I enter as this slight but charismatic smile slides off his face. This time, I don’t let my eyes linger on him.

In fact, I don’t let myself linger on anything in particular, following Serra as she weaves her way to the refreshments table. There’s something not quite right with me. It's just too much — the details on the faces of people around me, the sounds they’re making while breathing, the smells wafting up to me from their hair, their skin, their clothes. The same goes for everything around me. What’s surprising me most is how fast I am at registering movement — bringing of glasses to lips, shifting from foot to foot, leaning to whisper something in someone’s ear. It’s so fast, it feels like predicting it before it even happens.

Trying to fight the overwhelming feeling, I grab a drink and give Serra a nod. She leaves to stand with Lorcan and I find Carrel and Nolan by the wall with the tapestry of the War of the Elements hung to the right of the closed door leading into the Dining Hall.

We exchange smiles, but to my relief, everyone’s attention is still on Professor Byrne. I don’t think I’m capable of small talk right now.

When I turn to Byrne myself, I finally let my gaze fix on the man standing next to him with a drink in his hand.

Gods, I’m seriously distraught. Because it’s only then that it starts dawning on me, what his presence in this room must mean.

He’s the new professor. He is Jericho Bane. And the fact is very confusing. Because he looks nothing like the image of the shriveled-up asshole from my head.

For starters, he’s around my age, maybe a couple of years older.

Then there’s the fact that he looks more like a movie star gazing at you from a billboard than someone you’d expect to see in your workplace — tall, athletic, his defined jaw cleanly shaven, and his thick, short brown hair swept back, with a defiant strand still falling out of rank here and there. He’s dressed in perfectly tailored dark gray pants and a crisp white shirt that only draws the eye to the slight tan of his radiant skin.

Then there’s his demeanor, which becomes more contradictory the more you look at him. It’s so easy and confident, yet there’s this tension and discipline in his every movement. Whenever Byrne glances at him, Bane gives a nod, his lips stretching to show off a set of perfect teeth in a smile that’s easy and charismatic, yet undeniably bored.

“With that, I hope we will make you feel welcome here,” Byrne finally concludes his little speech.

Anticipation builds inside me before Bane’s voice fills the room with a deep, smoky timbre with a touch of something sharp, “Thank you, I’m sure you will.”

It makes my eyebrows pull down, that thing inside me stirring.

His eyes sweep over us all with such knowing intensity, lingering on my frown as he says, “And I hope to justify the welcome.”

This time, his gaze is like a wave crashing into and rolling over me, making my frown grow deeper.

The next thing I know, everyone around me is raising their glasses in a toast and breaking into a loud chatter.

I tear my eyes away from Bane, only then noticing how divided his presence has made us.

While my own group and a couple of others remain where we’re standing, throwing suspicious or judgmental looks in the direction of the big shot who’s come to exert his dubious influence over our students, other groups don’t waste time closing in on him, creating a circle of sycophants fighting for his attention, the women more so than the men.

It all makes me sick to my stomach, but at least I seem to be slowly going back to normal. The sights, sounds and smells around me are getting duller, my mental focus is sharpening and I don’t feel as distraught as I did a moment ago.

I breathe a sigh of relief. Maybe now the effects of all that magic will finally wear off. I lean against the tapestry, lift the sole of my boot onto the wall under its edge and take the very first sip of the drink in my hand and turn my attention onto my colleagues.

It makes my eyebrows shoot up, when I realize they’re searching the web for info on Bane.

Then again, it’s with a comment about him that I interrupt them, so who am I to talk? “He doesn’t exactly strike me as a businessman,” I say.

Without looking up from his phone, Carrel says, “He’s ex-military. Then he went into the sportsbooks business and expanded the empire from there.”

Ex-military? It does sound like an actual qualification at least, but… “Yeah, he doesn’t exactly strike me as a soldier either,” I protest, but it feels stupid admitting it’s because of the movie-star quality.

Nolan shrugs and Carrel just shoots me a confused look.

It’s at that moment that Nolan’s phone pings, he checks the message and then looks up at us with a victorious smile on his face, motioning at Professor Ahearn, one of the Academy’s most prolific gossips. “I know why it was him they hired.”

We both nudge him to go on.

“He’s here to teach Finn.”

“Finn who?” I ask with a frown.

Nolan smiles with a spark in his eyes. “The hopeless son of King Brennan.”

“So it’s not like he doesn’t know what he’s doing,” I say with a shrug, “and he’s here on some kind of duty. Sounds better than I thought it would be.”

Nolan looks at me like I’m crazy. “This is an obscenely rich man who’s so in cahoots with the elite that kings are arranging hard-to-get positions at famous Academies for him to teach their sons.” He frowns. “In short, he’s someone who doesn’t need to care what others think of him.”

“Yeah, and he’ll be influencing an entire generation of our shifters,” Carrel adds with vigor.

It’s not like I don’t agree. Still, all this hostility is flooding my mouth with bitterness, and it’s bothering me that everyone’s making this whole evening about the newcomer, especially because I myself have to fight the urge to stare at him.

“So will Professors Ahearn, O’Connor and MacArthur,” I argue. “But not if they’re all focusing on sharpening their pitchforks instead of teaching the students.”

Nolan squints at me. “I thought you’d be the first to pull out the protest signs.”

“If we’re protesting his business,” I say with a frown, “sure, I already have some lying around. But I’m not too eager to start vying for someone getting fired before I actually see them in action.”

Before I can respond, Carrel leans a little forward with a look of surprise in his eyes. “Don’t tell me you did it. You’re taking the Archivist seat.”

“Ah, that explains it,” Nolan says with a knowing smile.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” I demand.

“With you playing politics all of a sudden?” she asks, raising her eyebrows. “I’d say it’s got everything to do with it.”

“It’s not a political role.”

“Not much of a role in general,” Carrel snaps.

“Beats having to scrape gum off the desks in the Library,” I quip with a grin.

They both laugh and Carrel changes the subject. I keep chatting with the two of them about this and that, but I’m tense, my mind lingering on the comment about my new role.

What snaps me out of it is this feeling of being watched. I let my gaze sweep over the crowd, making sure it doesn’t linger on Bane.

I expel a pent-up breath and take another sip of my drink. I guess I should’ve known it would be this way — that the Archivist role would lose all respectability as soon as 'the Scion' took it on. Still, it stings, just like it does whenever I achieve something only for everyone to act as if it’s nothing.

Gods, I can’t wait for this night to be over. Not even the honor of having the Pied Piper introduce me as the Archivist seems to be something to look forward to.

Something nudges me to look to my left, my eyes locking with Bane’s for a brief moment before I tear them away, refusing to keep making tonight all about some ‘random man’, as Lorcan put it so nicely.

Then again, there’s this overwhelming urge to study him some more. It takes all I have not to indulge it, especially whenever his voice reaches me, switching from serious to joking in a way that makes me wonder what he’s talking about.

While everyone else is moving on, his presence seems to at least be keeping his sycophants enthralled.

It lingers in my mind, the way I reacted when I first locked eyes with him. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced.

So is this entire day. I mean, gods, the presence inside me.

What the hell was that?

I don’t have time to ponder it. Carrel, Nolan and I keep chatting, but now the current of the crowd is taking us straight towards the door into the Dining Hall.

We step inside and I let my eyes sweep over the grandeur.

There’s the sea of students below the podium we’re filing onto, the echo of their chatter tapering off long before it reaches the vaulted ceiling high above. I don’t have to look to know they’re buzzing around the three vertically placed tables, one for each of the three Houses. It all looks so magical — the food on the tables, the chandeliers above everyone’s heads, the tapestries, flags and upholstery all in rich green and gold — the colors of the Academy.

I don’t linger on it. As we approach the professors’ table — the one placed at the edge of the podium to face the students’ — my gaze fixes on my new seat, third to the left from the Pied Piper’s wood-and-bone one.

My lips curl into a smile, the excitement returning with a vengeance.

I see Bane appear in the crowd in front of me, his back turned.

Then my smile slides right off and I stop midstep, this surge of unexpected anger flooding my veins as I watch him pull a chair out and take a seat.

My chair.

***

Frozen in place, I watch Professor Ahearn take the seat to the newcomer’s left as she tries to keep their conversation going. He cuts her efforts short, seemingly taking a moment to survey the Hall before him.

For a second, I work on shoving the unexpected anger aside, contemplating just taking the empty seat to his right. I sure as hell don’t need any more drama tonight.

Then again, why would it be a thing? There’s still that tension in his body, but it’s so laid-back, the way he’s sitting in my chair. Besides, I’ll only be asking him to switch seats with me.

I start moving straight towards him. I stop right in front of the chair to his right with other faculty members still settling in around us. I see his body tense up and I expect him to turn to me, but he just takes his phone out of his pocket and starts typing. I can't help but notice what beautiful hands he has — big, with long, deft fingers.

I lean a little forward, opening my mouth and finding myself blurting the following out, “Um, sorry, but that’s not your seat.”

Slowly — as if he’s not surprised by my presence — he turns to lock eyes with me. My heart starts pounding, and I spot his nostrils flaring and his features twisting in this pained expression before he smooths them out.

Great, he seems to be one of those who don’t exactly like the human scent. Still, at least he’s polite enough to try not to show it. It feels like an eternity before he finally puts the phone away and says, in a tense, serious voice, “Pity. I like the view from here.”

The confusion makes me squint, but I shrug it off and let out a laugh. “Yeah, sure,” I lilt, “but you see, we have these traditions here. Everyone has their own spot at the table.”

He quirks an eyebrow. Gods, the eyes. I watch him glance at the chair below him. “Ah, so it’s your seat that I’m taking?” he asks. There’s still tension in his voice, but it’s a little softer now.

I squint at him. Then I smile. “It doesn’t matter whose it is, it’s not yours.”

A corner of his lips tugs into a slight smirk. “I’m sure I’ll find a way around that,” he says and then pulls the chair in front of me out a little, motioning for me to take a seat.

I laugh. “You know, this isn’t one of those things you can just buy.”

“I believe that’s what they say about love, not chairs,” he snaps flatly.

“Love is overrated, chairs are not,” I snap back.

He blows a soft laugh through his nose, his eyes zeroing in on me. Then he leans back in my seat, stretching a little and splaying his legs. “I’m starting to see your point.”

I just look at him for a second, my eyes narrowing. I open my mouth to directly tell him to switch seats with me and be done with it, but it’s at that very moment that the Dining Hall goes silent.

I throw a look over my shoulder to see the Pied Piper walk in, and when I look back at Bane, I see him smirking at me, once again motioning at the empty seat next to him.

He knows I’m forced to take it now.

And I do, avoiding his lingering gaze as I drag the chair as far away from him as possible. I hear a low chuckle that makes a sting of defeat burn through my skin and the anger flare up deep inside me again.

“Welcome, everyone,” the Pied Piper’s bored drawl booms and echoes as she comes to stand next to her chair, “to yet another year here at the Academy.”

The room breaks into thunderous clapping. I join in, my lips pressing tight as I refuse to look to my left, where I can sense the asshole getting even more comfortable in my chair.

“Now, I’ll address you all again a little later,” the Pied Piper continues, “but right now, let’s hear from the head housekeeper, who’ll be notifying you of all changes regarding our regulations and restrictions.”

The head housekeeper gets up and starts droning on like he does every single year, but I’m too busy contemplating what to do about the asshole.

I notice the way some of the front-row students are gawking at him as he opens a bottle of scotch and pours himself a drink.

He himself seems to be busy glancing at me every couple of seconds, making my self-consciousness and my anger keep spiking all at once.

How is he managing to get me this worked up? And more importantly, will I really let him take my seat?

Before I can make up my mind, I sense him lean a little closer to me, his eyes fixing on my profile.

I turn to look at him just as he says, “I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” He holds his hand out for a shake. “I’m Jericho—”

“I know who you are,” I cut him off and turn to face the Hall again.

I was the one practically defending you, I think with bitterness flooding my mouth.

He pulls his hand back. “Right,” he sneers, a tinge of amusement in his voice. “So, what’s with the chair, Miss Novak?”

This makes me freeze.

“I thought Librarians didn’t care where they sat,” I hear him go on, “as long as there were dusty books lying around.” He seems to take a second to glance around. “Oh, I see the conundrum.”

I force myself to calm down and turn to look at him. I guess the question is in my eyes, because almost as soon as they land on him, he shrugs, leaning back in the chair a little.

“I’ve been briefed,” he says simply.

I smile. “The brief didn’t include where you’re sitting tonight?”

He blows a laugh through his nose. “So you are the human.”

I frown. Is he really not sure?

It’s at that moment that one of the professors behind him gets up to go to the bathroom and I realize what I could do about the chair. I start looking around for Serra. “You’re doubting what they told you?” I ask Bane, a little absent-mindedly. “I knew money couldn’t buy love or chairs, but properly vetted information at least?”

Serra’s a stickler about these things, she’ll be coming to fix it without me even asking for it.

The next thing I know, the chair I'm in is moving with a scrape against the floor, and my head is snapping to my left to see he’s dragged me closer to him with this pissed-off look on his face.

“Hey,” I protest with a frown.

I try to drag myself back, but the grip of his hand around the armrest seems to be enough to keep me locked in. Before my reflexes can kick in, the asshole leans in and takes a whiff of me.

He fucking smells me.

There’s a moment of silence as his features twist like they did the first time, only this time it looks as if he’s going to grab me.

He doesn’t. He just keeps staring at me, his nostrils flaring.

Still, the audacity is rendering me speechless.

He seems to snap out of it. “What?” he demands, his eyes challenging me and his voice carrying a touch of aggression even as he leans back in his chair as if nothing’s happened. “You’re refusing to answer my question, smartass. What do you expect?”

I guess this particular bully I’ll have to try to intimidate. “How about basic manners?” I demand, staring him down as I lean back and splay my legs to mirror his own posture.

To that, he just blows a laugh, a little louder this time. But he does let me move the chair back, so I guess it’s a victory. Sort of. Still, it doesn’t make me any less sore.

“Yeah, I guess I was being naive,” I mumble through gritted teeth.

“Past tense? Really?” he demands.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He lets out a scoff. “A human working at an academy for Originals? It’s like coming to dinner as…” His eyes drag down my body, making my blood boil. “Well, steak.”

I throw him a flat glare. “In case you haven't noticed, I'm a woman. It's not just when I'm surrounded by Originals that I'm in danger.”

His eyebrows shoot up.

“And besides, eighteen forty-seven?” I continue, referring to the year of the Treaty between humans and Originals, “it was over a hundred and fifty years ago.”

He leans forward, once again pinning me with his stare. “Newsflash, little miss, the world is just as fucked up as it was before we signed a flimsy piece of paper and forever locked it out of our sight.”

“That’s rich, coming from someone like you.”

“You wound me,” he purrs, not breaking eye contact. “But when you’re ‘someone like me,’ you quickly learn something. People who are loudest in their anger with you? They’re usually just bitter they don’t have the guts to be you.”

I close my eyes. I think I’ve had it with this arrogant man. I take a deep breath. “Are you going to switch seats with me or not?” I demand as I open my eyes.

“No,” he says as he leans back in the chair, spreading his legs and stroking the armrest. “There’s this human girl getting her panties in a bunch over it. Must be a good chair.”

And I don’t know why I’m letting him keep dragging me into this, but before I know it, I’m gritting out, “The ‘human girl’ is the Grimm Academy Archivist. I suggest you treat her with the respect she deserves.”

Something flashes through his eyes. Surprise? “Archivist? I thought Jaeger was the Archivist.”

He really knows his shit.

“Not any longer.”

“Wow, how’d you manage to pull that off?”

It renders me speechless for a second, his reaction. Is he… It almost sounds like this asshole is taking me seriously.

I dismiss it. I lean a little forward, locking eyes with him. “You know, I’m starting to understand this all must be a joke to you. To some of us, it’s anything but.”

A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You keep doing that, Miss Archivist.”

“What?”

“Not answering my questions.”

“And you’re still in my seat, so I guess we’re even.”

“Yeah,” he drawls, “I have a feeling, even if I gave the chair up, I wouldn’t get any answers in return.” He pauses for a second, his eyes narrowing right before a chuckle escapes him. “Ah…”

“What?”

“You know,” he says with this insufferable smirk, “you all have a tendency to think you’re being unique, playing hard to get with the handsome rich bachelor. When, in fact, you’ve all been watching the very same movies growing up.”

I’m frowning as he leans in, dropping his voice a little, but not wiping the smirk off his face. “Let me give you a piece of advice. Just scoffing at the most desirable man in the room doesn’t automatically make him head over heels for you.”

The goddamn arrogance. I have to take another deep breath to calm down. I fail.

“You know what?” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ll play whatever role I need to play to get you out of my fucking seat. So if this is not working for you, why don’t you do me a favor and tell me what would?”

This only makes his mouth crack into a self-satisfied grin. “Well, that’s more interesting, offering to fuck me straight off the bat.”

I have to fight not to roll my eyes at him.

He doesn’t let me respond. “Come on, Miss Archivist, there are impressionable children around. Besides, I’m not sure I’m that into you.”

I give him a flat glare. “If you think there’s anything you can do or say that can shock me—”

I break off because the next thing I know, his smirk grows wider as the whites of his eyes turn pitch black, the pupils seeming to catch on fire.

Fuck. These are not human eyes.

It comes as a shock, how hot in my skin they make me. Something stirs inside me, that presence, and the light in the room becomes brighter, the sounds louder and the smells stronger. There’s one in particular that makes me want to sniff like crazy. It’s so much information all at once that I have to avert my eyes despite not wanting to show him he’s managed to get to me.

I fix them ahead, frowning and breathing heavily.

There’s a moment of silence before I hear him say, “You’re wrong, you know? I’m sure there’s at least one thing I can do that will shock you.”

His voice is a little softer, and before I know it, I’m turning to see him getting out of my chair. “Here, all yours.”

***

I switch seats with him, but I make a point of not even looking at him. This is all getting me too worked up, so I fix my eyes ahead, praying for him to just leave me alone.

He doesn’t. Not five seconds go by before he’s leaning to say, “Maybe we could start over. I don’t really want to get off on the wrong foot with my new colleagues, now do I?”

Without turning to look at him, and in an ice-cold voice, I say, “I’m sure you’ll find a way around it. Enjoy the dinner.”

I feel his eyes linger on me and I want to punch him in the face.

For crying out loud, Anna, I tell myself, there’s something seriously wrong with you today. You weren’t this childish when you were a goddamn child.

It’s at that moment that the housekeeper finally finishes the proclamation and the Pied Piper rises from her chair, making the asshole stop staring at me. “Now, one last thing before we can start enjoying the food. I’d like to inform you of the changes in our faculty.”

I throw a glance in her direction, a smile creeping up on me. I may not get my chair, but at least I’ll get this moment.

“It is my honor to present to you your new Archivist—”

Before she can even say my name, I hear Bane get up. My eyes snap to him to see the devious smirk on his face as he throws a knowing glance at me.

“And your new professor,” he says, his voice booming and capturing the attention of everyone in the Hall.

It all makes me hold my breath in expectation of trouble. He did just interrupt Johanna de Groot herself.

“I hope you don’t mind, veneranda.” He turns to the Pied Piper, but she just sits down with a shrug. “I guess this is turning out to be… even more exciting for me than I thought it would be, watching this generation of young minds ready to be shaped.”

He throws another self-satisfied glance at me. Well, I guess this manipulative asshole really can do whatever he wants.

And everyone seems to be eating it up. There’s such violent clapping as I swallow an angry groan.

“Now now, I’m a humble man and you’re all giving me way too much attention right now.”

Yeah right.

“I’ll see you in class, Shapeshifting Studies, right?”

He doesn’t even know which class he’s teaching.

“And until then, why don’t you enjoy this little present I brought for you tonight?” And with a snap of his fingers, servers appear with trolleys stacked with champagne bottles.

Must be fancy champagne, at least judging by the reactions.

The Pied Piper won’t forget about me, right?

“Well,” she says as she stands up again just as a server places a glass in front of me, “this seems to be as good a moment as any to raise our glasses to another year at Grimm Academy.”

She nods for the performers to come in.

Goddamnit.

I can feel him looking at me, but I don’t even want to throw a glance in the asshole’s direction. And I’m not touching the drink.

“What, you don’t like champagne?” I hear him say with feigned innocence in his voice.

I don’t say anything, choosing to ignore him.

“You know,” he says with such smugness in his voice, “I’m starting to really look forward to working alongside you, Little Miss Archivist.”

I grab the glass to try to contain my anger. I hold it in my hand so tight, I feel it’s going to break. It’s through gritted teeth that I say, “I assure you, you won’t have anything to do with me whatsoever.”

The anger makes my vision blur for a second, after which there’s that presence inside me again, turning the volume on all my senses up.

This time, the presence speaks.

Get him, it tells me, in an old female growl that sends shivers down my spine.

Then there’s this intense warmth spreading through my body, and the sound of glass breaking, and the smile sliding off Bane’s face.

I shock myself so much that I just keep sitting there in dumbstruck silence.

The very next moment, someone is coming over to tell Bane the Pied Piper wants him to sit next to her, and I’m snapping out of the blur of anger only to find Lorcan leaning in his chair to stare at me intently.

The performers are already starting to come out, but now my mind is buzzing relentlessly.

What just happened? What was that voice? Why do I feel so much anger all of a sudden?

It all goes by in a blur, making me crave going to my room to rest, but as soon as the Pied Piper gets tired of the whole parade and ends the Opening Ceremony, Lorcan appears next to me.

I watch him rummage through his pocket to produce the keys, the device we use only when we want to summon all faculty members for an urgent meeting. it’s in a pissed-off voice that he tells me, “You’re coming with me, Miss Novak.”

Chapter 6

It’s in a haze that I follow Lorcan into the Lounge, hoping until the very last moment that I’ve imagined this all happening. Then I see most of the faculty already gathered there, so intrigued that they’re all standing around the table, waiting in silence.

I spot Bane leaning against the table with his arms folded, dead serious and with his eyes narrowed at me.

“What’s this all about?” Serra asks as the two of us come to stand before them.

“Miss Novak’s lies,” Lorcan says as he turns to stare at me, folding his arms. “O’Connor,” he addresses one of the shifter professors, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Smell her,” he orders.

O’Connor frowns and I hear myself say, “Hey,” but he does as he’s told.

His frown growing deeper, he takes a few steps backwards, coming to whisper something in Serra’s ear. There’s a flash of surprise in her eyes.

The whisper spreads like wildfire, and all of a sudden, I have dozens of eyes on me. Narrowed, hostile eyes.

Fucking hell, Lorcan’s actually doing it. He’s finally managing to turn them against me.

I decide to take things into my own hands. I take a deep breath and I start, “I apologize for not saying anything sooner. It wasn’t my intention to break into the Lexarcanum. The book called out to me and I know I shouldn’t have touched it, but…”

His frown growing deeper, Bane tears himself away from the table. It’s the renewed look of surprise in everyone’s eyes that makes me realize this is not what they called the meeting for.

There’s a moment of silence before Serra says, in an unusually formal voice, “Miss Novak, how long have you known you were a shifter?”

I blink at her stupidly. “A shifter?”

“Yes.”

I hear myself let out a rough, helpless little scoff. “What’re you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb,” Lorcan growls. “Need I remind you what I just witnessed in the Dining Hall?”

Fucking hell. “Alright, okay,” I start as I take a few steps closer to them all. “I admit I did lose my temper a little bit. Professor Bane…” I pause, searching for the right words as I ignore the fact he’s now staring at me even more intently. “We said some things and those things might not have been… nice. If you’d only—”

“She didn’t tell him anything,” Lorcan ruthlessly cuts me off as he glances around the room at the other professors. “She growled at him. Right before her marks showed.”

“Excuse me?” I demand, frowning.

Serra shakes her head. “I’m going to repeat the question, Miss Novak.” She pauses, looking into my eyes with even more intensity. “How long have you known you were a shifter?”

What the…

“I’m not,” I blurt out. “I’m human, as you all love to remind me every now and again,” I add with an awkward laugh.

I hear Bane let out a scoff.

“Miss Novak,” Serra says sternly and somewhat coldly, “need we remind you that according to statute seven of the Treaty, all Originals are required by law to attend the Academy. Refusal to do so is punishable by death.”

For a second, I remain speechless. What the fuck did I get myself into? “Of course I know all about the Concordium,” I finally reply. “But I’m almost thirty years old and I’m human. Been human all my life.” I let out a laugh, glancing around the room. “Trust me, if I had any magic in me whatsoever, I’d be the first to come pounding on your door to let me in.”

No one gives me so much as a half-smile.

Serra demands, “And yet you were caught exhibiting shifter behavior on the same day you got picked by a book in the Lexarcanum and chose not to tell anyone?”

I open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out.

“Cat got your tongue?” Lorcan demands, a smug little smile tugging at his lips.

I shake my head. “I just…” Fuck, how do I explain it? “I apologize, what happened in the Lexarcanum was an unfortunate incident, but it just can’t be, what you’re saying.”

Then it hits me, and I don’t exactly like it, but what else am I supposed to do? “Look,” I continue with urgency in my voice, “there’s a very simple way for us to settle this misunderstanding.” I look at Serra, a plea in my eyes. “Have one of you use your powers on me. You’ll see exactly how defenseless I am, just like any other human.”

She shakes her head. “Miss Novak,” she starts in that same unyielding voice, “as a Librarian working at Grimm Academy, I’d expect you to know that books from the Lexarcanum do not choose Scions.”

“That’s true,” I rush to say, “generally speaking. But it’s not like it would be the first strange, inexplicable thing to happen here.”

“So you’re officially denying the fact of your bloodline?” she demands.

“Look,” I say, exasperation starting to affect my voice, “it just can’t be true.”

Serra turns to Lorcan. “Maybe she’s telling the truth. Maybe she really didn’t know.”

He lets out a scoff. “For a shifter not to realize they’re a shifter all their lives? I’m not buying it.”

“It’s the goddamn truth,” I snap at him, fighting not to raise my voice. “And I’m not a shifter, I’m not an Original, I’m Anna Novak, born in an all-human community to two human parents and into a family without a drop of magic in at least the last three generations.”

The very next second, I feel this breeze behind my back and see the Pied Piper materialize between me and the professors.

“You won’t mind if I settle the question once and for all?” she asks, her eyes boring into mine as she reaches for something inside her cloak.

The Flute. Finally someone making sense.

She slides the carved wooden object out of some hidden pocket. At first glance, you’d think nothing of the ordinary-looking instrument, but I’ve spent many nights reading about the Originals and their magic. The Flute is a tool to draw out Originals, originally intended for getting lost children to safe places, back before the Treaty was signed and when vampires, shifters and faes were still in hiding.

This will be quick, I think to myself.

I let out a pent-up breath. “Of course not. Please do, veneranda.”

She pauses for a second, everyone around me shifting in their places. Then she puts the tip of the flute to her lips and blows.

Beautiful ancient music starts emanating from the flute. Everyone waits with bated breath. The music is really unlike anything I’ve ever heard, but its magic only works on Originals.

I open my mouth to tell them all that I was right, but suddenly, I am stunned. The music is flooding my brain as my body starts dragging me to her.

A murmur rises in the room.

Even after the Pied Piper stops blowing into the flute and I’m back in control of my body, I’m too dumbfounded to do anything but stand there like a fool.

The Pied Piper keeps looking at me as she puts the Flute back. Then she turns to Serra and says, “I believe she really didn’t know. Go easy on her.”

With that, she disappears.

Serra doesn’t waste a second. She walks up to me. “Starting now, Miss Novak,” she says firmly, “you’re relieved of your Librarian duties—”

“You can’t do this to me,” I cut her off, anger in my voice.

“I can and I have to,” she says with determination. “First thing in the morning,” she keeps going, her voice drifting to me as if through water, “you’ll be reporting to your House’s Head Student for instructions and you’ll be starting class with the rest of first-year shifter students.”

There’s a moment of silence as the rest of the faculty starts dispersing, everyone throwing me funny looks as they do.

“Is that clear, Miss Novak?” Serra’s voice snaps me out of it.

“Yes, Professor Naehorn,” I reply, my own voice sounding unfamiliar all of a sudden.

Serra gives me a nod and walks away. Now there’s only Bane left standing in the room.

For a second, he stays motionless. Then he moves for the exit. “I guess I’ll be seeing you in class, Miss Novak,” he says in a low, serious voice, and walks out the door.

As soon as he disappears, running my hands down my face, I let out a frustrated groan. This is just what I needed.

Chapter 7

I’m used to not sleeping, but this is different. It’s with unseeing eyes and lips pressed tight that I keep sitting in the empty Library with piles of books on the table before me. It’s been quite a while since I got here — straight from the Lounge and determined to stay until I’ve gotten to the bottom of this — and I can sense Carrel throwing me looks from the Service Desk, but I still haven’t cracked a single book open. It makes my blood boil, that they’re intent on taking my job away from me.

Mostly though, I’m just stuck reliving the events of the day and wondering how the hell everything ended on the absurd conclusion that I’m a shifter.

First, there was the energy that drew me to the book

Then whatever it was that happened when I touched it.

Then I snapped at Bane, which Lorcan claims sounded like growling.

Then there was this voice in my head right before I broke the glass.

Then the Pied Piper came and managed to use the Flute on me.

Fighting the frustration, I run my hands down my face and let out a long, pent-up breath. Then I grab one of the books from the pile. The Lexarcanum book, the voice in my head, the growling — these things could all be explained away, but the Flute…

For centuries, everyone’s claimed its magic is ironclad, which is why it’s widely accepted as irrefutable proof of one’s bloodline.

But I mean, nothing’s ironclad, right? So I crack the book open and I start scouring its contents.

I learn nothing I haven’t already known. The Flute was made by the first Pied Piper ever — the fae-blooded Zahra from the first century BC, back when the Originals had already gone into hiding. She was the most powerful fae of her time, with great talents in Divine Magic. The Flute she carved so she could identify young Originals and get them to safety, it’s to this day considered to be one of the most powerful magical items.

Once I’m finished with that one, I grab another book. And another. And another, only to realize I really do already know everything there is to know about the Flute.

And no, it seems that no one has ever been able to use it on humans, making it the perfect detector of Original powers.

It all makes me grit my teeth and grip the book I’m holding tighter, fighting the urge to fling it across the room.

I mean, can’t they see how absurd it is, what they’re saying about me?

Some members of the bloodline experience their first shift when they’re five, some when they’re fifteen, but there are no records of it happening later than the teen years.

That makes perfect sense. After all, when a shifter is born, they already have two conflicting natures inside them. These natures are like two sides of one coin, which is why a shifter’s greatest fear is severing the bond with their animal.

But it’s also why they feel their animal’s presence since the moment they’re born, and hear its voice even before they learn to talk, let alone shift for the first time.

And me?

Hello? I ask, waiting for a second to see whether that voice will sound again.

Nothing happens. Of course it doesn’t.

But since the Flute has been used on me, there’d be no point arguing with them.

Exasperated by going in circles, I let my forehead drop to the table, onto the book between my hands.

Almost immediately, I lift it up and take my phone to search the web for shifters who can shift a part of their body — more specifically the eyes — without shifting in full.

I find nothing. However, I do somehow have a feeling that Jericho Bane’s animal is a fox, and I search for images of those.

Shifter foxes aren’t small, cute creatures. They’re usually large, dangerous animals, resembling monsters more than pets. We don’t have them here at the Academy, at least not right now, I think. Except for the one.

I fail to resist the urge to search for ‘Jericho Bane’ as well. It surprises me that I don’t find any images of him or articles talking about the man himself, but there’s a lot of them about his business. He does seem to own a few sports brands, but it seems to be a predominantly gambling empire — sportsbooks, racetracks and casinos.

Ugh.

It’s at the very next moment that I feel someone come to stand next to me and hear them clear their throat.

I look up, seeing Carrel looking at me with a mix of suspicion, awkwardness and sympathy. “I’ve waited as long as I could, Anna, but the day’s starting and I’ve been told to get the keys from you.”

It’s fucking morning already? My heart sinking deep into my stomach, I summon all my control and I give Carrel a smile as I dig through my pocket.

I produce my set of keys to the Library, he reaches for them and I force myself to let him take them.

Now what should I do, I wonder as I watch her go back to the Service Desk.

Should I just take their word for it and start going to classes as if this is all actually happening?

I spend the next couple of minutes in that drunken haze that always seems to set in after a sleepless night. I’m so tired and I don’t want any of this to be happening, but the students are arriving for their first study sessions of the year and I know I need to make my decision fast.

If I do as they say, the truth will eventually come out and they’ll stop with this nonsense of making me play the role of student here. No harm done, right?

Then again, I’ve no idea how long the charade will go on. In the meantime, I’ll have to go to actual classes with actual Originals. I can’t see any possible scenario where they don’t simply end up killing me.

Because even if I were a shifter, I’m obviously a terrible one.

But if I don’t do as I’m told…

They could invoke the death penalty, and it’s all over for me.

I peel my tired ass off the chair, I take a deep breath and I start walking.

As if in a dream, I find myself in front of what’s supposed to be my new home, my eyes getting drawn up, up, up. Shooting high into the overcast sky above me, the Lycan Tower is imposing to say the least — the sheer size of each individual boulder, the width of the wooden door fitted into them, the unsettling darkness of the Lycan forest sprawling behind it.

I keep looking at it, and the more I do, the more this thrill consumes me. What if they’re right?

What if I really am a shifter?

The very thought seems to be too much to handle. Everything else aside, in my mind, there’s something about being a shifter that equates with losing control to all your deepest, darkest urges. It’s particularly unsettling in the context of anger, an emotion I’ve always tried to suppress as much as possible.

If I could choose, I’d much sooner go for either fae or vampire.

Then again, whatever this is, it’s definitely not my choice.

Forcing myself to shrug it all off, I start moving for the door, feeling confused and exhilarated at the same time. I’ll do as I’m told, for now. I’ll go inside, I’ll get the welcome package from the Head Student, I’ll move into my new room in the Tower and I’ll go to my first class.

When it all comes crashing down, I’ll have my old job back, if it’s the last thing I do.

Chapter 8

Goddamn surreal, this is. Just yesterday, I arrived at the Academy thinking I’m in for another year of working at the Library, and now I’m sitting in the back of B7, waiting for my first ever Lycanology One class to start with a hundred or so shifter students chatting and buzzing around.

“Can I help you?” I enunciate, gently but loudly, to a short but buff guy I see staring at me. Quickly, he turns his eyes back onto the people in his group.

I shake my head, letting out a sigh and leaning back on the bench with my arms folded.

According to my schedule, at least it’s not Bane who will be teaching me Shapeshifting Studies. It’ll be the somewhat senile but much less grating Professor Ahearn.

The goal right now is to avoid rocking the boat at all costs, and Lorcan MacArthur, well… The Grimm Academy Lycanology professor, he does not like me very much, and he also happens to have the power to prevent me from getting my old Librarian position back.

Sadly, the class hasn’t even started yet and I already have the stares to deal with.

It’s all perfectly understandable, I think as my eyes sweep over the people I’ve found myself surrounded with. After all, they’re just twenty-one-year-old shifter students rightly wondering what their twenty-nine-year-old human Librarian is suddenly doing in the classroom with them.

Hell, I myself have to fight the urge to stare at them. To gauge potential differences and similarities between us.

The interest is making me worried about how easy it’ll be for me to ‘blend in’.

Just relax, I tell myself. Instead of focusing on the people around me, I choose to take a closer look at the room.

It’s not like I’ve never been in a Grimm Academy classroom. But they’re all different and I’ve never seen this particular one. It’s more of an auditorium, square in shape and brightly lit by the magic from the large paneled windows to my left and right. Most of the space is taken up by the two rows of benches cascading down the stairs to the central pulpit and blackboard, but what draws the eye are the glass cases to the far left and right, displaying bones, magical items and even some works of art.

It startles me, when I hear a sound to my left, on the bench I had all to myself until only a second ago.

Now I see a scrawny girl with huge black eyes and impossibly long black hair taking her seat next to me, rummaging through her bag.

And the intention is to look away, but then I see her trying to get a book out from among a pile of… sticks. It’s a pile of sticks she has in her bag.

My eyebrows pull down and then shoot up.

Then it hits me. That’s the girl one of the researchers came to inquire about last year, showing me her picture. It was only a few years ago she managed to break a hundred-year-old curse that was trapping her in her animal form, the one that inspired the Seven Ravens fairy tale.

Her name is Raven, but they call her the cuckoo curse girl. Assholes.

Raven catches my glance, stops her rummaging and just keeps staring at me for a second, tilting her head in a way that’s at the same time cute and a little unsettling.

“Excuse me,” she starts in this flat, soft but high-pitched voice, “is the look you’re giving me one of interest or contempt?”

The question renders me speechless.

“I often confuse the two,” she explains, her large black eyes blinking at me in the same odd way in which she tilted her head. “Facial expressions are hard, don’t you think?”

What the… “They sure are,” I choose to say so as not to make her feel bad.

She presses her lips a little, in a way that makes me feel I’ve just been given a smile. It makes me instantly like her so much, I con’t seem to stop myself from leaning to add, “It was interest, by the way, the look I was giving you.”

“Oh,” she just says, her eyes rounding a little.

It makes me laugh, the look of incredulousness in them. I open my mouth to ask what’s with the sticks.

It’s at the very next moment that Raven’s head snaps ahead, the chatter in the classroom dies down, I see everyone scrambling to get to their seats and I turn ahead to see Lorcan walk in through a door to the right side of the blackboard.

“Welcome, everyone,” his voice booms as he marches up to the pulpit and slams his attache onto it. “This is Lycanology One, so if you’re in the wrong room…” He pauses, his eyes sweeping over the crowd with a grumpy look on his face. “Now’s the time to leave.”

No one makes so much as a sound, except for a few people awkwardly shifting in their seats and the girl going back to rummaging through her bag.

It all brings a smile to my face. I’m sitting in the back, where there’s no chance of Lorcan being able to focus on me. It’s a theoretical, not a practical class, which means I should be able to kick ass, not embarrass myself. It should be a piece of cake, to blend in with a bunch of weirdos like the girl sitting next to me.

***

With a smile on my face, I keep watching Lorcan as he starts pacing up and down the space in front of the benches, saying, “Now, as you all know, in this class, we’ll be dealing with the theory related to shifters and their powers. It’s in Shapeshifting Studies that you’ll be doing actual training. However…”

He stops, making my ears prick up. He seems to look straight in my direction. “That doesn’t mean we can’t have a little fun, does it?”

I swear he throws me that smug smile of his. “You’ll go one by one,” he explains as he goes back to pacing, “you’ll introduce yourself and you’ll tell us about your first gift, demonstrating it along the way. How does that sound?”

Everyone seems thrilled.

After all, a shifter’s first gift from the constellations is the power they’re most used to wielding.

With a smug little smile, Lorcan goes to stand behind the pulpit and a girl from the front row gets up. She says she was first picked by the Aquarius, and when she closes her eyes and her tattoos start glowing, she makes an upwards sweeping motion with her hands and all the water bottles in the room go flying up into the air, followed by loud clapping and cheering.

Fuck, this will all be stuff the likes of which I could never even dream of faking, let alone executing for real.

Another girl gets up, and she mumbles her name in the lowest possible voice, but then she turns to face us students and — her tattoos glowing, she slams her fists together and I feel such a strong wall of air slamming into me, it’s like a kick in the chest.

While the next guy is demonstrating his gift, I feel this gush of wind come from my left and I hear the door behind me open with a thud, followed by Raven shifting and flying out, carrying her bag in her beak.

My eyebrows shoot up, but no one else seems to pay her any mind. The guy just finishes his demonstration and takes his seat.

Damn it, if Raven’s no longer here, it means I’m next.

Lorcan leaves the pulpit, saying, “Very well, thank you, Mister Finnegan.”

He starts walking between the two rows of benches, turning his eyes onto me.

As he’s getting closer, there’s this energy I start registering all of a sudden. I frown.

It’s the energy I felt coming from the Lexarcanum book.

“That leaves only one more student,” I hear him say.

It takes me a second to pull myself together. The pretense makes me grit my teeth. With a smile, he comes to a stop not too far away from me, gesturing for me to get up and introduce myself. He’s probably expecting me to be all apologetic and evasive about it.

I have to fight not to dart out of the room, but I choose not to give him what he wants. I get up and I say, “I’m Anna Novak, and I don’t have any gifts from the constellations yet.”

I can see the way in which everyone turns to stare at me, and I can hear the little snickers, but I decide to ignore them. I sit back down.

Lorcan shows no such restraint. He shakes his head, pretending as if he can’t believe it. As if he doesn’t know me. “Well well, Miss Novak,” he says with fake sympathy, “this is highly unusual.” Then, as if he’s just remembered something, he takes a few steps closer to me and says, “But not to worry. If you can’t show us any of your gifts, you can shift for us.”

For a second, I just keep looking at him, fighting the urge to snap. I fail. “You know very well that I can’t.”

Feigning surprise, Lorcan clicks his tongue. “Well, Miss Novak, your incompetence coupled with your attitude…”

Fuck.

“You’ve just earned yourself the obligation to attend special classes.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. Then I notice everyone around me suppressing laughs and I realize that having to take special classes must be something degrading.

Perfect. I grit my teeth, but I decide I won’t be rocking the boat any more than I already have. “Yes, professor,” I say.

The bell sounds, Lorcan dismisses us and everyone starts dispersing. I grab my tote and move to rush out of the classroom, fuming when I realize I’ve just earned myself the pleasure of having to see Lorcan on an even more regular basis.

The guy who stinks of the book that set this entire chain of events in motion.

Chapter 9

I find myself walking behind two shifter girls, checking my schedule and hoping I have another class lined up to distract me from all this shit.

The girls are rushing, but they seem to be in high spirits. “He’s actually making me look forward to class,” one of them says. The other just lets out a giggle and keeps marching.

It makes me roll my eyes, when I realize they’re talking about Bane. He was all students could focus on before Lorcan’s class as well. From what I could gather, they seem to be able to sense that he’s an alpha, but it’s not that which fascinates them. It’s the fact that he’s an alpha without a pack, which admittedly is an unusual thing to be. I’d just think it would be a red flag for them.

I keep walking, trying my hardest not to let myself think about the guy.

I fail.

Not just because of the eyes — the magic of which I find fascinating, however begrudgingly. While this wasn’t something I was aware of at the moment, he seems to be more opaque to me than most people, even the Originals. I mean, he’s obviously an arrogant, self-centered asshole.

But normally, I don’t just get the sense of what people are. I get the sense of why they are what they are as well.

I watch the girls dart into a classroom to our left, and I’m not just feeling sorry for them, I’m feeling sorry for all the girls with enough damage to swoon over that guy.

Still, when I move to pass the classroom, I just can’t resist the urge.

I walk up to the door that they’ve left slightly ajar, leaning a little forward until the room — at least the central part of it — comes into view. It’s one of the gyms that I’m peering into. The class seems to be in full swing, senior students in both human and shifted forms running some tactical simulation.

It does not look harmless.

Where’s the professor, I think when I don’t spot him anywhere near them.

I angle my head a little to the right. My eyebrows shoot up when I spot him leaning against a desk all the way on the other side, talking on the phone without even trying to keep an eye out on the kids.

To make it even worse, I’m pretty sure it’s a business call that he’s on. With a straight face and an air of authority, he’s giving orders to the person on the other side of the line.

I frown.

Then I spot a movement from him, as if he’s about to crane his neck to look in my direction, and I freeze.

I move out of view and start turning on my heel to get away, when I hear a panicked murmur.

I stop and go back to peering into the gym to search for the source of commotion, my eyes finally landing on one of the male students producing choked-up sounds, standing surrounded by colleagues with his hands wrapped around a throat that’s too thick to be human.

Blood curdles in my veins when I realize he seems to be in the middle of an unsuccessful shift, which can be life-threatening.

Just as I’m about to barge into the gym, I watch Bane approach the group, its members letting him through. Pressing his head against his shoulder to stay on the phone, he pries the student’s hands away, grabs him by the neck and slams a fist straight into his windpipe.

The next thing I hear are violent gasps for air and breaths of relief.

As if nothing happened, Bane turns on his heel and starts walking back to his desk, taking his phone in his hand again.

“Um, Professor,” one of the other students starts insecurely. He waits for Bane to stop, turn around and raise his eyebrows at him to proceed. “Should we take him to the hospital or something?”

Bane shrugs. “It’s all the same to me.”

With that, he goes back to his conversation, moving for the desk again as the students choose to just obediently go back to training.

For a second, I remain standing there, surprise and disgust twisting my face as I watch him slow down. Then there it is again, that feeling that he’s about to spot me, and I tear myself away from the door and get moving, my eyebrows pulled down and my mind buzzing with impressions.

Thank gods I won’t be forced to suffer through any classes with that guy. It would’ve potentially been the literal death of me.

***

I’m no less grumpy when I find myself back in the Entrance Hall and decide to finally grab something to eat. Still feeling the burn of embarrassment from Lorcan’s class, I try to avoid catching anyone’s glance as I walk through the intricately carved archway and into the buzzing cafeteria. It’s a hall large enough to accommodate hundreds of students, some waiting in line at the serving counters stretching from my left, some already sitting around countless tables placed along the three central soda fountains.

I am famished, so I start piling all the delicious food onto my plate. Just as I’ve filled it up, I catch a lanky shifter looking at my plate with a smirk. I forgot, we fat people are never really allowed to be hungry. Or even eat, for that matter. We should subsist solely on sunshine and willpower until everyone else decides we’re skinny enough. Right.

Since I’m really not in the mood for judgy assholes right now, I lock eyes with him and shove another breakfast burger onto my plate with a smile. I know that the look in my eyes says continue and perish, so he quickly looks away. I shake it off, and go to sit at one of the few empty tables to the right, sunlight slanting through the high windows.

My stomach is grumbling, but now that the pile of food is in front of me, I can’t seem to bring myself to start eating it.

What should I do? How on earth am I supposed to pass the first-term exam?

I turn to look out the window, onto the serene landscape that is the castle grounds, the faint but still warm autumn sunlight brushing the grass, the trees, the statues.

That Lexarcanum book did what it did and there was that strange voice inside my head, but today’s class has only made it clearer to me how absurd this all is.

“Mind if I join you?” I hear a familiar voice to my right.

My eyes snap in its direction and I see Serra standing next to my table, leaning on her cane. What the hell does she want? The look she’s throwing me is not hostile, but it is weird.

“Of course,” I say, gesturing for her to take a seat.

She does, trying to mask the pain by gritting her teeth as she lowers herself into the chair.

Then she locks eyes with me again. “I apologize for my behavior last night,” she says simply. “But you have to understand, it came as sort of a shock, learning you were one of us.”

I frown. “Unpleasant surprise, for sure.”

“Not the fact of your bloodline,” she replies with a shake of her head. “I’ve never had anything against you, Anna.” She pauses before she asks, “Do you mind if I call you that?”

It takes me by surprise, but I nod. I wouldn’t mind seeing what her agenda is here.

“It’s all everyone in the Lounge can seem to talk about this morning,” she continues as she throws a glance around the cafeteria. Then she turns her eyes back onto me. “How none of us figured it out earlier. I mean, Lorcan has known your scent for years now, and I myself can’t count how many times I’ve used Sight in your presence. For neither one of us to register you weren’t a Scion…”

Ah, so she’s come to check out the circus freak. I let out a scoff. “You jumped straight to thinking I’d been hiding it.”

She shakes her head. “Nevermind that. What I can’t stop thinking about now…” She pauses, making me want to know what she’ll say next. “Is how disoriented and possibly even terrifying this all must be for you.”

I have to fight not to laugh, that’s how much I do not believe her. “I’m fine, thanks.”

She frowns at me. “You know,” she starts hesitantly, “it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, in your situation, to have a professor on your side. Do you maybe have any questions for me?”

“Yes, I do.” I might as well get something out of this sudden interest of hers. “Could you grant me access to the Restricted Section for one more day?”

Her eyebrows shoot up. “What would you want that for?”

I let out a scoff. “You’re acting as if that Lexarcanum book chose me. Is it really so strange that I’d want to take another look at it?”

“I guess not,” she says pensively. “But you’re in a sort of precarious position right now, so I’d suggest you wait a bit with a request like that.”

“If I’m in such a precarious position,” I start, fighting not to lose my cool, “why don’t you just forget about my being a student here and give me my old job back?”

She looks at me as if I’m being thick. But it’s with softness in her voice that she says, “You know the law won’t allow us to just ‘forget about your being a student here.’” She pauses. “But if you’d be willing to go back to your old job part-time, I’d see what I can do.”

I stay silent for a second, observing her as my eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why would you do that? Why did you come to sit with me in the first place?”

To my surprise, she turns to watch the students buzz around, her voice turning pensive as she says, “I’ve known I was a fae all my life, Anna.” Her lips curl into a sad smile. “I was born into a noble family who’d been part of the House of Ydril for centuries. I had all the resources a person could ever wish for — a governess, a private tutor, my own library. I had the drive as well.”

She turns her eyes back onto me, the smile disappearing. “But I was a sickly child who at the age of twenty one found herself among Originals who were all more powerful than her. Not as well-meaning as I was naive enough to assume they were. Suffice to say, they made my life miserable.” She pauses for a second. “Is it really that odd for me to see myself in you, to want to help you the way I wanted someone to help me when I was suffering?”

It renders me speechless for a second, her little confession. The intimacy of it makes me squirm a little, but I give my best not to show it. “This is not suffering for me, Professor Naehorn,” I say gently.

“Serra,” she corrects me with a smile.

“Serra,” I say. “It’s just a very frustrating thing, when everyone expects you to do things you simply can’t do.”

She squints at me, this funny little smile dancing on her lips. “And you’re so sure you can’t do them?”

“Well,” I say with determination, “the fact is that I went to a Lycanology class today, and everyone there already has powers except for me.”

“So you’re not feeling your animal awaken inside you?” she asks.

The memory of that strange yet familiar voice flashes through my mind. But I choose not to answer the question. “It’s kind of hard for me to believe that this would be happening to a twenty-nine-year-old,” I reply with a smile.

She shrugs. “Stranger things have happened.”

I let out a laugh and glance around to hide the look of hopelessness in my eyes. “I’ve been told to get special classes. But I don’t think Professor MacArthur has my education in mind, more my further embarrassment.”

“Special classes?” she echoes, still frowning. Then her face lights up. “Sure, as Head of your House, he’ll be the one to set them up, but you won’t be training with Professor MacArthur, silly.”

I squint at her. “No?”

“No,” she says with a laugh, making me breathe a sigh of relief and, all of a sudden, feel all my hopelessness disperse. “You’ll be training with Professor Bane.”

Chapter 10

I wake up all groggy, looking around and wondering where I am. It takes me a moment to realize I’m in the new room, but as soon as I do, a powerful mix of dread and incredulousness pins me in place.

I’m a shifter studying at Grimm Academy.

For one long moment, I just keep staring at the ceiling.

It’s for the first time since it happened — that thing with the Lexarcanum book, that I actually consider the possibility. That the book chose me, and that it did that for a reason.

Then this feeling that I’m forgetting something makes me frown and I push myself up, glancing around.

I stumble out of bed, my new room still so unfamiliar to me, it’s as if I’m seeing it for the first time. Despite being slightly cramped, especially thanks to the bed occupying most of the width, it’s actually better than my old room in the Grimm Tower. Right opposite the bed, there’s the large wooden closet, while to my left I have a cute little desk overlooking the castle grounds. Much to my relief, between the bed and the closet, there’s the door into my own private bathroom.

It’s only once I start getting dressed that my eyes land on the schedule lying on the desk.

It finally hits me, what I’m forgetting. I have my first special class with Bane today.

I have to fight the urge to get back in bed and pull the covers over my head until there’s only darkness and silence around me. Instead, I let out a dragged-out groan and force myself to keep getting ready.

***

By the time I start down the hallway leading from the Entrance Hall to B13, I have a plan and I’m feeling pretty good about it.

Sure, I can’t exactly call myself lucky for having been assigned to that man. But it’s still true — what I said to Carrel and Nolan. None of us really know him. Gods know how long this is going to last — there’s a part of me that’s still waiting for someone to come and tell me it was all a mistake.

It could happen any moment now.

Until then, all I need to do is not repeat the mistake from the Opening Ceremony — letting him get to me.

Should be a piece of cake, considering the reason he managed to do it in the first place is the fact I was so messed up that day.

It’s a new day and, well, I’m feeling only slightly messed up right now.

So it’s with determination in my step that I keep walking to my first special class.

I reach the intersection opening onto the Gerhardt Yard — the one the students call the Junkyard because of all the Academy misfits gathering there with all their contraband. It makes me slow down, when I feel eyes on me just as I’m about to pass the entrance.

I come a little closer and take a peek. The Junkyard is a large stretch of patchy grass surrounded by a crumbling stone arcade looking out onto the hallways. There’s a giant maple shooting out of the center and alcoves with lichen-covered tables lining the borders.

Still feeling watched, I let my eyes sweep over the space and the students hanging around. I drag them from the tree to one of the alcoves across from me, then up the table nestled inside, then all the way to the graffitied gargoyle perched at the top of the arch, finding a pair of eyes blinking at me.

Raven, sitting in a lotus position on top of the gargoyle, an open book in her lap.

My lips curling into a smile, I lift my hand to wave. As soon as I do, she abruptly shifts, takes flight as this delicate little black bird, grabs the falling book in her beak and disappears out of my line of sight.

I just keep standing there for a second. What an odd little cutie.

I shake my head and take the right at the intersection, for a couple of minutes walking down the mostly empty hallway until I finally find the classroom. I open the door and walk inside, frowning when I see what kind of space they’ve picked for this.

It’s just a regular classroom. I mean, it’s showing more than the usual wear-and-tear, but it’s not that which bothers me. It’s the fact that it’s both small and so crammed with desks and shelves that there’s barely any room for standing, let alone doing any training.

Doesn’t matter, I tell myself. I have my plan and I’m sticking to it. I choose the front-row desk facing the solitary professor’s, placed in front of the blackboard. I take a seat, glancing at my watch to see it’s 09:59.

Then my ears prick up and I hear these confident footsteps drawing near. The sound makes me sit straight and fix my eyes on the door.

At exactly 10:00, I see the knob turn, making all my determination crumble and nervousness flood my entire system.

***

The very next second, I’m watching him walk in and close the door behind him. I feel the presence inside me stir, but I shove it down, along with all my nervousness. Just remember the plan, Anna.

I get up. “Morning—”

“Cooperate,” he mercilessly cuts me off, making my eyebrows pull down as I watch him walk up to the professor’s desk, lean on its edge and brace his hands at his sides, only then locking eyes with me. “And you won’t be needing more than this one class. Understood?”

I just keep looking at him, my confusion growing the longer I do. It’s not the rudeness that’s throwing me off. It’s how formal he’s being, his tone cold and his face devoid of any expression.

“Understood?” he repeats himself, a touch of impatience in his voice.

It takes me a moment to shrug my confusion off. “I’m sorry, one class?” I ask with a mix of surprise and suspicion.

“It’s because you can’t shift that you’re in need of special classes, right?”

“Right,” I grumble.

“So I’ll get you to shift and be done with it,” he says flatly.

My eyes narrow. I’m still suspicious and the very thought of him succeeding seems absurd, but his whole attitude is actually working in my favor. “By all means,” I reply with a smile.

Feeling determined once again, I move to get in front of my desk and await further instruction, stopping the second I see him shake his head and motion at the chair behind me.

A little hesitantly, I walk back, take my seat and clasp my hands in front of me, going straight back to suspicious.

He shifts a little, but stays leaned against the desk with his hands braced along its edges. For one long moment, he just looks at me with a blank face. Then, finally, he breaks the torturous silence. “What’s your animal?”

It feels so stupid, to tell the truth, but what else am I supposed to do? “I don’t know,” I reply, a strain in my voice.

He squints. There’s the impatience again when he starts, “Wolf, bear, snake—”

“Listing them won’t help,” I cut in with a shake of my head. “I honestly don’t know which one is mine.”

“Get in touch with it and tell me what happens,” he orders.

As if I didn’t attempt that already. “Um, I can try, but—”

“Try then,” he coldly cuts me off.

There it is, the anger. My lips twitch in an effort not to tell him he’s being unnecessarily rude. I press them tight and close my eyes, trying to feel around my mind.

Nothing happens. “Hello?” I call out to the darkness behind closed eyelids. Still, nothing.

“I can’t,” I say. I open my eyes to find him staring at me. “It’s not working.”

It takes him a second to reply, “Fine. When it is working, how does it make you feel?”

Feel? It actually hasn’t occurred to me — to ask myself that particular question. Fighting the embarrassment, I say, “It seems to make my senses sharper.”

“You’ll need to be a lot more specific than that.”

“I don’t know,” I say defensively. “I’ve only felt it a few times and it wasn’t that strong.”

His face remains blank, but I do catch his eyebrows shoot up. “Well that’s easily the poorest connection I’ve ever heard of.”

It feels like a slap across the face. “Well that’s easily the least constructive feedback I’ve ever received,” I snap back.

For a moment, we just look at each other.

“What else?” he finally asks.

I raise my eyebrows in a silent question.

“Apart from making your senses sharper,” he demands with growing impatience in his voice, “how does it make you feel?”

This is where it becomes tricky. “Like…” I shrug, softly shaking my head. “It has needs.”

It surprises me, when he tears himself away from the desk to come to stand in front of me, arms folded and eyes narrowed. “What needs?” he asks in a lower, tenser voice.

Naked, the way he’s looking at me is making me feel completely naked. I let the silence stretch. “Why did you accept this position?” I find myself asking, in an effort to shift the focus away from myself I guess. “At Grimm Academy, I mean.”

He squints at me. “What do you care?”

“I don’t, I just want to make this feel less like an interrogation.”

“It is an interrogation,” he snaps. Then he walks back to the desk and takes a seat on its edge. “So I suggest you stop deflecting. Unless you want it to be pointless?”

“Alright,” I reply with a sigh, choosing to completely ignore his entire demeanor. “But the answer is still the same.”

When he lets out an exasperated sigh, I rush to add, “How am I supposed to know what it needs if I only sensed the animal a few times when I was already completely distraught?”

He waves a hand in dismissal. “When did you first sense it?”

The image of his eyes when I first looked into them flashes through my mind. “The day before yesterday.”

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” he says flatly. “When exactly? What triggered it?”

“I don’t remember.”

He throws daggers at me. “Why don’t you quit being a smartass and answer my question?”

Maybe it’s not such a good idea — to keep this information to myself, but there’s such a strong resistance in me to tell this asshole it was him that set it off.

So I shrug my shoulders, throwing him a defiant look. “I said I don’t remember.”

For a second, I think he’s going to come stand in front of me again, but he stops mid movement, gritting his teeth. “So you want me to believe that for twenty nine years you walked around thinking yourself to be a human, then one day, all of a sudden, your animal makes its appearance, and ‘you don’t remember’ when it happened?”

He’s talking to me like I’m some half-wit. “Yes,” I grit out, struggling to keep my growing anger contained.

If he keeps going like this, I’m forgetting all about my plan and smacking him across the face.

But he just leans back a little, stares at me for another second and then stands straight, saying, “Well then, why don’t you get started?”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

He gestures at the shelves around us. “Try making a connection with anything in this room.”

The very thought that the interrogation is over makes me breathe a sigh of relief. But when I get up and start walking around the room, the relief quickly turns into the promise of even greater embarrassment.

Because I can sense him following me as I keep failing to see anything in any of the displayed items — a bottle of snake venom, a feather plucked off a raven, a giant white tiger tooth…

Until I come to a stop in front of a piece of stretched hide the color of deep burning red. I frown, something stirring inside me.

“That,” I hear him say from behind my back. “What was that?”

I feel his heat and the combination creates this overwhelm of urges that I can’t untangle, and I quickly shove them all down.

“Nothing,” I rush to say, because I know for sure it’s got nothing to do with what my animal is.

Just as I turn around to tell him that, the bell rings.

It surprises him just as much as it surprises me, I can tell from the look on his face.

He’s not pleased.

I, on the other hand… “I guess I’ll be needing more than one class after all,” I say, feeling smug for two different reasons.

One, it seems I’ve managed to do exactly what I came here to do — not let him get to me. Two, things aren’t working out for him as he thought they would, which is giving me a kind of satisfaction that’s impossible not to gloat over.

His lips pressed tight, he stares at me for a second, but he doesn’t bite. “You know,” he says coldly, “if you don’t want to waste my time…” He leans in a little, his eyes narrowing. “You’ll first need to stop lying your ass off.”

With that, he turns on his heel and walks out the classroom, leaving me standing there with his words echoing in my mind.

Chapter 11

Stay cool, Anna, I tell myself as I walk out of B13 and onto the silent hallway. But I don’t get very far. I stop by the first bench I see and take a seat, fixing my unseeing eyes ahead. I’m struggling with controlling my anger and wondering where it’s coming from all at once.

How did he manage to get to me this much, again?

Sure, he was an asshole. He literally told me I was wasting his precious time.

It didn’t exactly come as a surprise though. There was the night of the Opening Ceremony, when he showed he was arrogant and self-centered. Then there was what I saw of his Shapeshifting Studies class yesterday, when he showed he was downright selfish and cruel as well. It was stupid of me — to dismiss the way he behaved and try to make myself approach him with an open mind. Still, it was a conscious decision based on an existing impression.

So no, his being an asshole is not all that’s bothering me.

Lying my ass off…

Sure, at certain moments, I was lying. I don’t exactly enjoy it, but I’ve been lying my ass off ever since I was sixteen, when I ran off and started trying to build an actual future for myself.

But this particular situation is no different than all the rest, I think as I remember how naked I felt with him interrogating me like that. I mean, I need to protect myself, don’t I? And if there’s one thing that life has taught me…

I can’t exactly be myself around others without getting into serious trouble.

It makes me let out a laugh, when I realize I’m getting myself worked up over nothing.

Why should I let these special classes make me start doubting myself all over again? From all I know, it could be later this afternoon that they figure out I’m not a shifter and stop requiring me to come to classes in general.

A smile tugging at my lips, I get up, check my schedule and leave to grab a bite before I have another class.

Just as I pass the entrance into the Junkyard, I hear people chanting something I can’t quite make out.

Curios, I back up and take a peek.

What I see makes a frown scrunch up my forehead. There’s a crowd forming a circle, and in the middle of that circle, I see this pompous-looking fae guy getting into Raven’s face.

***

“Nym, Nym, Nym,” the students keep chanting as I keep trying to elbow my way through them.

“You want me to leave her alone?” the pompous Nym drawls mockingly as he turns to some tall, disheveled vampire in the first line. “I’m not sure you understand who you’re talking to.”

“Yeah,” some guy who’s obviously his bruiser chimes in from the sidelines, this smugness in his voice, “this is Nym of the House of Zylphyra, stupid.”

I keep going, this bad feeling in my gut making me start ordering people to move the hell out of my way.

“Don’t you fucking touch her,” I hear the vampire yell. “You were after me, remember?”

But it’s the very next second that I look ahead and see Raven shift. Nym lets out a laugh as the bird flies higher into the sky.

His two bruisers tear themselves from the crowd, moving as if they’re about to use magic to stop the bird from escaping.

“No need, you two,” Nym shouts in an amused voice. “I’ll take care of this myself.” And — his eyes fixing on the raven again and the Runes around his neck starting to glow — he slams the palms of his hands together and I see the raven stop, writhing in pain as it starts to get even higher up in the air, obviously not of its own volition.

I shove the last two people blocking my way and just as I step onto the empty circle where the action is, I let my voice boom, “That's enough.”

The chatter dies down. With the corner of my eye, I see the raven drop to the floor. I breathe a sigh of relief. Nym turns to look at me, frowning.

His eyes narrow. Then a smirk tugs at his lips and he saunters up to me. “Aren’t you that Scion they’re claiming is a shifter now?”

“Yes,” I say with determination, “as a matter of fact, I am.”

“Well, why don’t you go back to the dirty hole you crawled out of?”

Everyone around us snickers.

I just look at the fae for a second.

A smile tugs at my lips. “Wow, so tough,” I purr as I take a step closer to him, obviously taking him by surprise. I don’t let him look away. “You’re such a tough guy, aren’t you? Why don’t you show me what you got and when we’re done, I’ll go dig out the House of Zylphyra contact sheet and call your mother for a little afternoon catch-up?”

This earns a moment of silence with a couple of muffled snickers thrown in. But what really gives me pleasure is seeing I’m getting to the guy, I can see it in his eyes that there’s something in mine that’s scaring him.

“What?” I demand with feigned surprise, taking yet another step closer to him, so close, he needs to back off to stop our bodies from touching. “Come on, I’m waiting, tough guy.”

For a second, he just looks at me, his face twisting in anger he’s not letting himself show. Then he lets out a scoff, taking control over his features again.

“Holy fucking Word,” he finally says, as if he wasn’t scared a second ago. He glances around, already looking for approval. “I mean, I knew Scions were a bit loose in the head, but this…”

Laughter booms through the courtyard.

“Yeah, sheesh,” one of the two bruisers chimes in. “Defending a cuckoo girl and a guy who should have his fangs ripped out.”

They all throw me weird looks, but then they start leaving and the crowd starts dispersing with them.

Fangs ripped out? It’s an extremely rude thing to say to a vampire, generally only reserved for powerless ones, I think as my eyes get drawn to the disheveled vampire. He’s crouching next to Raven, who’s sitting on the grass, now back in her human form. Gently, she’s trying to push his hand away as he insists on checking her for injuries.

Frowning, I walk up to them and get into a crouch myself. “Are you alright?” I ask Raven.

She doesn’t reply, she just looks up at me and then shyly looks away.

Finally, the vampire finishes the little check-up, breathes a sigh of relief and slumps to the ground, throwing her a look so filled with adoration, it makes me smile.

“She’s fine,” he says. He turns to me, his eyebrows pulling down. “But you…” He squints at me. “Bloody hell, are you naive or what? As far as I’ve gathered, you don’t have any powers. Nym is an asshole, sure, but he’s a powerful bloody asshole.”

My eyebrows shoot up. For a moment, I just look at him — the pale face with a strong nose, the skinny body all in black, the headphones around his neck. But it’s the fact that he seems refreshingly lacking in inhibitions that makes me let out a laugh and sit down.

I feel Raven’s eyes fix on me, but I get this feeling I should let her observe before putting her in the spotlight with any of my attention.

“There are far worse things in life than getting your butt kicked,” I tell her friend. “It’s just something I happen to know and he doesn’t. You can see it in his eyes.”

“Hm,” the vampire hums, his eyes narrowing at me. “Either way, I’m in your debt.” He glances at Raven, who’s still staring at me. “We both are. This is Raven and I’m Alaric.”

“Anna, nice to meet you.”

He nods and moves to get up, but I stop him. “Why were they picking on you?” I ask with hesitation in my voice.

To my surprise, he lets out a laugh. “I guess it’s mostly because we’re special class students.”

“Really?” I ask, my eyebrows shooting up. “So am I.”

I watch the two of them exchange a look. “You’re in luck,” Alaric says with a mischievous smile. “Special classes are the best. You show up for a single class every two weeks and the other professors leave you alone, so it’s the perfect way to slack off.”

I laugh. “Probably depends on the professor, how lucky you can consider yourself. What are yours like?” I ask, daring to glance at Raven as well.

She just looks away, while Alaric scratches his head, letting out an awkward laugh. “I don’t mind answering any of your questions, Anna. Just a fair warning. You don’t want to hang out with us,” he says. “It may be construed as mixing with the wrong crowd.”

“Well,” I mutter, “I have a feeling I already am the wrong crowd, so…”

While Raven only gives me a blink with those big, black eyes, Alaric bursts out laughing. He pats me on the back, saying, “Then why don’t you join us?”

We get up and the two of them take me to their usual spot, the alcove I saw Raven perched above. I settle in and keep chatting with Alaric, when my phone pings.

It’s Professor Naehorn telling me that in two weeks, as soon as I settle into my new life, I’ll be able to go back to working at the Library, part time.

I glance around the Junkyard, my smile growing wider.

I’ll have to look into that symbol, keep an eye on Lorcan and try not to get murdered by the other students. It might take me a minute to figure out how to manage my expectations when it comes to special classes and my sunny so-called professor.

But hey, nothing’s perfect, right? And I guess this is my life for now.

If I really am a shifter… It sends shivers down my spine, just thinking of the power, the freedom, and the independence I could achieve.

In three years, once I’ve graduated… No one will be able to take the Archivist job from me.

Chapter 12

It’s a stormy late September morning outside and the students stepping into the Library are still groggy from sleep, while I myself am having trouble containing my excitement. I’m standing in front of the Service Desk, waiting to finally be given my keys back.

If Carrel ever decides to come out of the office and give them to me.

Impatiently, I shift on my feet. It’s been two weeks of sheer frustration — trying to do research on that symbol I saw, the one gracing the cover of the Lexarcanum book. I do remember seeing it somewhere and I have a feeling it’s old Norse, but wherever I look, I can’t find a single mention.

The only thing I did learn is that the Academy’s Old Norse Studies section is noticeably poorer than it was the last time I ventured into it.

So a couple of days ago, I simply had to come to the conclusion that I’ll have to wait to get my job back, so I can log into the backend and see if there’s anything I’m missing.

But today’s the day I’ll finally be cracking that mystery.

When Carrel finally appears, I grab the keys with a huge grin on my face, making him let out a chuckle.

I settle in behind the Service Desk, breathing a content sigh when I log into the backend and start searching for more books that could lead me somewhere.

It makes me frown, when I see that all those books I felt were missing actually are missing from the main database.

I click on one of them.

Moved to the Restricted Section, it says.

I keep checking book after book only to see the same thing’s happened with all of them.

It seems that they were all moved the day after I wandered into the Lexarcanum.

My eyebrows pulling down, I open a more detailed view to see who authorized this.

My frown only grows deeper when I see the same name showing up next to all the moved items.

Lorcan MacArthur.

***

My mind buzzing, I’m walking across the garden and straight for the Grimm Tower, when I spot Raven and Alaric sitting on one of the benches around the Dame Gothel statue, Alaric explaining something with choppy, animated gestures.

I slow down. Although I’ve only spoken to them a couple of times, I’m happy to see them and wouldn't mind saying hi, but I’m also eager to get this thing with Lorcan over with.

Before I can make up my mind, I see Alaric wave with a grin on his face and I walk over to them, smiling widely. “Hey you two. What's up?”

As usual, Raven just looks at me with those big black eyes, not saying a word even though she doesn’t seem uninterested.

“Raven and I were just talking about going to play cards in the Junkyard.”

I look at Raven, a smile still on my face, but she says nothing. “Sorry,” I reply as I turn back to Alaric, “I have stuff to do, but I’ll see you at Foundational later?”

This is the only class we’re in together. Foundational Magic Theory taught by Professor Byrne to all first-years, regardless of their bloodline.

Alaric nods and I move to walk away, but it startles me so much — when I hear Raven’s voice — that I stop midstep.

“Are you okay, Anna?” she asks in that flat, soft yet high-pitched voice of hers.

I turn to give her a curious smile. “Sure, why wouldn’t I be?”

“You have dark circles around your eyes again.”

My eyebrows shoot up. Again? Is that something she’s noticing? I let out an awkward laugh, not wanting to get into it. “Oh I’m just worried about that homework Lorcan assigned us.”

“Why?” comes the reply, along with a little blink.

I smile and frown at her at the same time. Then I shrug. “Why is anyone ever worried about homework?”

She tilts her head at me. “I don’t understand the question,” she says matter-of-factly. “There are countless reasons people are worried about homework and no single person can be worried for all of those reasons.”

I open my mouth to say something, but Alaric cuts in. “She’s trying to tell you she knows you’re a big fat liar, Anna,” he says with a grin.

“No, I’m not,” Raven says.

I believe she’s telling the truth, but I choose to lean into it. “Really?” I ask teasingly as I turn back to her. “And how would you know I’m a big fat liar, Raven?”

It surprises me, when she starts inspecting me more closely. She lets her eyes stop on the books in my hands and then the keys around my neck. “Apart from the obvious holes in your logic that suggest you’re evading the question,” she starts softly but firmly, “the books you’re carrying have nothing to do with the class, you’ve apparently been given the keys to the Library back, and based on my observations of you, it would take more than homework to make you worried.”

For a second, I just look at her, dumbfounded by the girl everyone’s underestimating by calling her the cuckoo curse girl. But feeling so closely observed is making me feel uncomfortable. “Look at you, Raven,” I tell her with a smile, eager to change the subject. “Do you solve murders or just do homework fraud?”

Alaric lets out a laugh, but there’s something that flashes through Raven’s eyes that makes me think she thinks I’m mocking her. “Oh come on,” I plead softly but firmly, “I’m only teasing you.”

She seems to relax.

“I’ll stop by the Junkyard later with some apology nachos, how about that?” I say, and I throw them both a tip of my chin and rush to the Grimm Tower.

***

Unsure about what I’m about to do, I keep sitting in the Lounge, throwing nods and tense little smiles to all the professors and faculty members passing through.

I hear him as soon as he steps onto the landing in front of the Lounge. “And you know I don’t like talking to answering machines, Nuala,” he says in this stern, parental voice, making me remember someone once saying he had a daughter.

As soon as he walks in, my adrenaline goes through the roof. When he puts his phone back in his pocket and stops mid step — showing he didn’t expect to see me here — and throws me this scowl, I have to warn myself I don’t really know he’s done anything suspicious to begin with. Professors move books around all the time.

I stand up, throwing him a polite nod.

“What’re you doing here, Miss Novak?” he asks as he walks up to me.

“I just need your help with something, Professor,” I tell him, using the most neutral voice possible. “Do you have a couple of minutes to spare?”

He just looks at me for a second. Then he motions at the chair I just got up from and says, “It’s my job to find them. But bear in mind,” he says as he lifts a fat forefinger in a warning gesture, “I won’t be listening to you whining about how tough the Academy is for someone as challenged as you are.”

I have to fight the urge to roll my eyes.

“I’m not here as your student,” I tell him as we take our seats.

I see his eyes narrow. “Then in what capacity are you here in?” he asks as he leans back in his chair.

I clear my throat, trying to sound casual as I say, “There are these books — materials from Old Norse Studies — that I couldn’t find—”

“Old Norse Studies?” he cuts me off, leaning forward a little and tilting his head. “I don’t seem to know of any shifter classes requiring you to study the area.”

I shake my head, forcing myself to smile. “It’s just this research I’m doing that’s unrelated to my studies.”

“What’re you researching exactly?”

“Old Norse culture.”

“What about it?”

For a second, I just look at him. Why’s he being so insistent? “Nothing in particular,” I tell him with a smile.

He seems to relax.

“But there were these books I wanted to read, and just today, I saw you had them put in the Restricted Section. I was wondering if I could get access?”

He lets out a laugh. “Miss Novak, as a first-year student, do you have access to the Restricted Section in general?”

“No.”

He shrugs. “There’s your answer.” And he gets up, seemingly headed to grab something to drink.

“But Professor MacArthur—,” I protest as I get out of my chair to follow him.

He turns to look at me again. “You really should learn to take no for an answer, Miss Novak.”

There’s a finality in his voice that forces me to say, “Yes, Professor. Thank you for your time.”

Without throwing him another look, I move to walk out of the Professor’s Lounge.

“Oh, Miss Novak,” he stops me, his voice now deceptively sweet.

“Yes?” I say without turning around.

“How are the special classes going?” he asks.

I turn to squint at him. Then I throw him a fake smile and say, “Marvelous.”

“Well, they should be,” he replies with a fake smile of his own. “Your mid-term practical exam is drawing near. It’ll be the first indicator of your success on the first-term exam.”

As if I need to be reminded, especially now that I’m about to go to one of those brilliant sessions for the second time.

I nod and turn my back to him just in time to hide the gritting of my teeth.

It seems I won’t be getting my hands on those books, I think as I start making my way down the stairs.

At least now I understand this thing with Lorcan might not be entirely personal. Either way, there’s definitely something fishy going on.

Chapter 13

It’s with a cautiously optimistic attitude that I make my way to my second special class of the year. I have my coffee and my newfound excitement about learning how to shift. And who knows? Maybe this will be the day Bane and I put our personal aversions aside and find some semblance of common ground.

At least enough not to kill each other.

It surprises me, when I find myself in front of B13 — the door ajar — and hear some young guy ask with reverence in his voice, “But wait, where did that happen?”

“In California,” I hear Bane reply. “I used to live there, among other places.”

I glance at my watch to make sure I’m not early. I’m not, so I walk into the classroom and see him sitting on the edge of his desk, surrounded by a mix of male and female shifter students. The ginger one, I believe, is Finn Brennan, the one Bane is here for.

“Wow, that’s awesome,” one of the girls says just as Bane turns his eyes onto me.

“Ah, morning, Miss Novak,” he says with an easy smile.

It all throws me off, but I guess you never know with this guy. “Morning,” I reply, but it’s not without hesitation that I start making my way to my desk.

“Why don’t you all make yourselves scarce,” Bane says as his eyes sweep over his fan group. “Work calls.”

Smiling and wide-eyed, some of them nod and some wave, but they immediately leave, closing the door behind them. I take my seat.

“So,” Bane starts. Without getting off the desk, he reaches for a folder behind him and starts perusing it, making me wonder what’s going on. Is that…

“Anna Novak, 29 years old, born in Croatia,” he recites. Then he looks up at me to ask, “That all correct?”

I guess it is my student file. And I guess we’ll be doing questions again. Only this time, I remind myself, I’ll be trying to tell the truth and I won’t be blocking my animal.

“Yes,” I say with a determined nod.

That seems to please him, but I’m busy feeling the presence rise to the surface, making my senses sharper. How is it that this time, I only have to decide not to block it?

Bane looks down at the file again. “And it was four years ago,” he keeps going, “that you first arrived to work as the Librarian here. Correct?”

He’s still looking down at the file, giving me the opportunity to scan his face. But the presence seems to want me to inspect him a lot more closely.

He looks up at me, an eyebrow quirked. It's beautifully shaped, just like his nose and his lips, this sharpness in their lines making them interesting, not just attractive.

Shifting, Anna, shifting is your focus today. “Yes,” I reply, making myself refocus my thoughts.

“Before that, where were you employed?”

The question makes me frown, simply because it’s a question involving my past. But I find myself a lot less tense about it than usual.

My lips stretch into a smile. “Before that, I took a break to do some traveling.”

I guess it’s sort of true.

He squints at me. “Yeah? Where’d you go?”

“Ah,” I say with a wave of my hand, “I ended up mostly hanging around the hotel pool.” When I see the suspicion in his eyes, I give him a shrug and a smile. “What can I say? They had mean cocktails.”

To my misfortune, he doesn’t move on from this. “Hotel? Not hostel?” he insists. “So it wasn’t exactly a budget vacation?”

I’m still feeling more relaxed than ever answering questions like this, but it doesn’t make it smart. “Wow, ‘hostel’, ‘budget’,” I start a little mockingly. “I thought rich people didn’t have words like that at their disposal. Is that why you agreed to come teach here?” I raise my eyebrows at him in fake sympathy, failing to resist the urge to poke at him. “Your gambling empire turning to dust?”

“Sorry to disappoint,” he quips, “but it’s only growing stronger. Also, I’m the one asking questions here.”

“You are,” I murmur, still smiling, “but I’m starting to notice they’re all personal questions that have nothing to do with shifting.”

Something flashes through his eyes. “They are,” he says with this devious little smile. “Very basic personal questions, Miss Novak. So imagine my surprise when I couldn’t find answers to any of them, at least not before your arrival to Grimm Academy.”

The words and the smile make my bubble burst. I sit straight. “And where did you expect to find them? In that student file?” I ask with a laugh that I hope doesn’t sound as awkward as it feels.

“Sorry, um, I seem to have misspoke,” he says, obviously feigning confusion, before he leans a little forward to pin me with his eyes. “It was my usually highly efficient and incredibly expensive team of trained professionals that couldn’t find answers to any of those questions.”

For a second, I just blink at him, watching his lips curl into a self-satisfied smile. Then, when the realization starts hitting me, so does the anger.

Quickly, I lock the presence away and grit out, “You had PIs try to dig up dirt on me?”

“Not ‘dirt’ specifically. More like…” He shrugs, that smile still dancing on his lips. “Anything.”

“And why would you do that?”

He lets out a scoff. “I’m on a mission here, aren’t I? Until I get you to shift, I’m obligated to come to these classes. So I need to know stuff about you. It’s not like you’re being an open book with me, is it?”

For a second, I just stare at him. It’s not fair, because my past doesn’t concern anyone, let alone him. It’s not criminal and it has nothing to do with my shifter side.

I force myself to calm down so as not to raise any further suspicion, but there’s an underlying threat in my voice when I say, “Alright, here’s what we’ll do.” I lean a little forward, sliding my forearms down my desk. “You’ll stop wasting my time with these questions and you’ll start with the actual class. In return, I won’t report you for violating my privacy like that. How does that sound?”

To my surprise, his lips tug into a smirk. “Perfect,” he says, his voice suspiciously saccharine.

Then he stands straight and starts walking over to me.

I feel my eyebrows pull down as I watch him come to sit on the side of my desk, bent at the waist to face me.

“What’re you doing?”

He raises his eyebrows in feigned innocence. “Teaching you to shift,” he says as he takes the cup of coffee off my desk, turning it in his hand. “Or is it lessons in embroidery you’re after?”

“How is this teaching me to shift?”

He sniffs the coffee through the lid. “Ah, black…” And only then does he turn to me to acknowledge my question. “You’re so stuck up, you can’t even get close,” he says with a shrug. “You need to let those emotions surface.” His face lights up with a knowing smirk. “Some of that anger, for example.”

And he lifts the cup to his mouth, and without taking his eyes off me, he downs it all.

The bastard, he’s intent on pissing me off, I think as he puts the cup back down and throws me a smug smile. Maybe the smart thing would be to let him, but I can’t. Forcing myself to stay in control, I give him a fake smile and say, “Oh you’d like some coffee? Well, help yourself.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” he says, and he grabs my tote off my desk, making me almost move to stop him.

I grit my teeth. Let him, I tell myself. Don’t show that you mind.

“The Blood Treaty,” he starts reciting as he takes one of the books out, “the Ramifications of the Agreement Between the Scions and the Vampiric Crown and Its Effect on the Postmodern Era.” He shakes his head. “Ugh.”

“Too basic for you, I get it,” I say, but he’s already tossing that back inside and going back to rummaging, making me grit my teeth again.

“You know,” he says, “I’m falling asleep just looking at the contents of your bag.”

“And here I went to so much trouble to make it interesting for you.”

He ignores me, throwing yet another smug smile on when he finds something and takes it out of the bag. A tampon. “Well well, what do we have here?”

I roll my eyes at him. “No, not the tampon,” I drawl flatly. “Please, I’ll die of shame.”

My actual indifference is making it boring to him, so he just tosses it back inside and takes something else out.

My notebook. “Hey,” I hear myself warn before I even realize what I’m doing.

It makes a spark appear in his eyes. “Interesting,” he sneers.

The next thing I know, he’s lifting the hand with the notebook in the air. Gritting my teeth, I scramble to get out of my chair, but he’s already off my desk, walking backwards with this self-satisfied grin on his face.

“Give it back,” I demand as I try to catch him.

He lets me almost do it and then pushes past me, knocking into my shoulder with his. He’s found what he’s been looking for and he doesn’t seem to be willing to part with it.

I turn on my heel and keep following him as he walks between the rows of desks.

“Is it a diary perchance?” he asks mockingly, just as I lunge at him and almost grab the notebook.

He turns around and grabs my hand into his, squeezing it into a fist so I can’t move it at all.

“Don’t,” I warn as I watch him move to open the notebook with his free hand.

“The musings of a unique, troubled mind, am I right?”

I take advantage of his focus on the notebook to break my hand free, putting all my effort into keeping my cool. “I’m asking you, nicely, to give it back.”

“Ah, nicely. Pity. And what if I don’t?”

I get in his face, watching the smile slide off his face. He keeps staring at me and now his nostrils are flaring and his chest is heaving and I’m snapping out of it, urging myself to back the fuck off and not get myself into actual trouble, the notebook be damned.

Then, just like that, he gives it back, but he doesn’t stop staring at me.

Feeling exposed like never before, I don’t even make the conscious decision. I just turn on my heel, grab my tote off the desk and move to get the hell away from him.

But just as I’m about to reach the door, all the lights in the room go out and I find myself in complete darkness.

My heart pounding, I stumble back, bumping into something hard.

Just as I spin around, wondering what the hell is going on, the lights go back on and I find him standing in front of me, so close, I can only see his eyes. All of a sudden they shift into those pitch-black animal eyes with fire burning in them.

My breath catches, the presence stirring inside me again.

“You can’t keep hiding from me like this, Miss Novak,” he warns in a low, tense voice. “Not if you want to succeed.”

“Oh yes I can and I most definitely will,” I snap. “Why don’t you worry about what you can and can’t do?”

He just looks at me for a moment. Then he grits his teeth. “You’re right,” he says, taking a step back. “What I can’t do is teach a lost cause, and I should just make peace with it,” he tells me forcefully, not letting me look away. He waves a hand around. “I mean, a shifter who doesn’t even want to be a shifter is bad enough. But one who’d rather flunk all her exams than accept anyone’s help? Well, let me make it easier for you, huh?” He jabs an angry finger in the air between us. “From now on, you truly are on your lonesome. I’ll be showing up for these classes because I absolutely have to, which goes for you too in case you thought you could wiggle your way out of it. But I won’t be lifting a finger to help you, smartass.” He folds his arms, his face twisting in anger. “How does that sound?”

This overwhelming rage floods me. Are you really going to let him talk to us like that? the voice inside my head demands.

“Shut the fuck up,” I snap at it.

“Perfect,” I tell Bane through gritted teeth.

“Perfect,” he echoes.

At that, I just throw daggers at him for a second and then storm out of the classroom.

Chapter 14

Lost cause, he told me I’m a lost cause. Dejected like I haven’t been in a long time, I have to fight not to groan out loud as I march down the hallway leading back to the Entrance Hall.

It’s just as I turn the corner at the intersection that Raven appears in front of me, making me double back.

I catch the movement just as she puts another one of those sticks in her bag. A smile tugs at my lips, until I see her peer into my eyes with concern in hers. “You don’t look so well, Anna.” And there’s this spark in her eyes as she asks, “Do you need help with anything?”

For a second, I just look at her. She is a shifter and it’s shifting that’s my biggest problem, but I shake my head. “It’s just one of those days, Raven.”

“Which days, Anna?” she asks, tilting her head at me in confusion.

I blow a soft laugh through my nose. “Bad ones,” I say, I give her an awkward pat on the shoulder and walk past her, adding, “I’ve got to run now, but maybe I’ll see you later and you can tell me what kind of criteria you have for sticks that go in the bag?”

This seems to take her by surprise. “Of course, Anna,” she says with a determined nod and the slightest smile.

And I’m already putting distance between us, hearing her soft little footsteps going in the opposite direction, when it hits me.

Frowning, I turn on my heel and start going back, following her straight into the Junkyard, where I find her sitting in the usual alcove with Alaric reading something to her out loud.

I come to stand in front of them. “Hey,” I say with a suspicious little squint, their eyes snapping up to me. “Shouldn’t you two be on your way to Foundational with me?”

Alaric makes a face. “I found this book,” he says as he lazily leans back. “It’s kind of interesting, so I’m taking it as a sign that we shouldn’t go to class today. We should stay here and enjoy this beautiful day.”

This makes me laugh. “Really?” I glance around. “The weather couldn’t be more crappy than it is, and a book that’s kind of interesting…”

I reach out my hand and he gives me the book. “The Unabridged History of the Development of Pull Chambers,” I read. “Do you really find this more interesting than the vampire wars or the nature of Divine Magic?” Which are the things that will be in the tests.

“I do,” he says a little defiantly.

It makes me feel sorry for both of them, when the unexpected defiance in his voice makes me suddenly become aware of how isolated they are here at the Academy. I’ve never seen them with anyone else, and they’re among the rare few who are repeating the first year.

I make myself snap out of it. “Well,” I finally say, “to each his own. So you’re definitely not coming to Foundational?”

He shakes his head.

“Raven?” I turn to ask her.

“No, you’re not,” Alaric says as he leans a little closer to her. “You’re staying here with me. You should let weird, powerless shifter ladies fend for themselves.”

I snort out a laugh. “That’s some solid advice there, Alaric. I think you’re one of those people who are simply too mature for school.”

He throws me a playful scowl.

“Um,” Raven starts hesitantly.

I turn to look at her. She’s getting up and motioning for the two of us to step aside. A little surprised, I nod and I follow, finding myself walking around the yard with her.

“I could help you,” she tells me in a low voice, “if it’s shifting that’s still troubling you. You can rely on me, Anna.”

“That’s really sweet, Raven,” I say as I come to a stop to throw her a grateful look, ignoring how uneasy the words make me.

When has relying on others ever gotten me anything but trouble?

Everything I’ve done in my life so far, I’ve had to do on my own.

Why should this be any different?

But that makes an idea start to take shape in my head.

“Maybe I could pass the mid-term exam without shifting,” I say, more to myself. “I mean, it’s an obstacle course, isn’t it?” I don’t wait for an answer. “Why shouldn’t I try to pass it as Anna the human instead of Anna the shifter?”

“No, Anna,” Raven says with conviction in her voice, “I don’t think there’s ever been a human who passed it.”

“Of course there hasn’t,” I say with growing excitement. I throw her a mischievous smile. “But only because none have ever been given a chance.”

Chapter 15

The students walking through the door all seem to carry the smells of the cold November day outside. It’s in hushed voices that we keep cross-examining each other from our seats behind the Service Desk, although I do have to keep reminding Alaric that we’re at my place of work, which also happens to be a Library.

It’s a favor I’m grateful for — that they’re choosing to study with me while I’m working. I’m particularly grateful because these days, I’m just too tired from juggling so many things at the same time. Between regular and special classes, studying for all the mid-term exams and struggling with my shifting, I barely have any time to spare to get a good night’s sleep, let alone do anything else.

“What are the phases of the moon that make a shifter most lethargic?” Raven recites, the last word turning into a soft yawn. I guess I’m not the only one who’s tired.

I catch Alaric looking at her with this warm intensity that brings a smile to my face. He hasn’t been bothering much with the right answers, more with getting Raven to laugh, that is, smile at his jokes.

I look up at the ceiling, trying to come up with the answer. “Crescent,” I say hesitantly, and I look down to see what kind of look Raven will give me.

She presses her lips tight, which in this case doesn’t seem to be a smile, but a grimace telling me I got it wrong. Damn it. The Foundational exam is tomorrow.

I let out a soft groan. “Alright, I’ll remember next time. Hit me with another one.”

“What are the five characteristics of a mate bond?” she recites from the workbook.

“Trick question,” I say with confidence. “There are no universal characteristics apart from just… knowing. It doesn’t even necessarily go both ways. Though there is the fact of the other person’s scent being irresistible.”

When she gives me a look telling me I got it right, I ask for another one.

“How does an unsuccessful shift affect the body?” she recites from the workbook.

Goddamn it, why is this so hard to remember?

I know the answer though. It’s because I’ve never experienced it.

While I’m trying to remember, I fix my eyes ahead, at the students going through the main Library door.

It’s then that I spot Bane, entering with one of the vampire professors, chatting and going straight for the reading area. He doesn’t look in our direction and I just keep following him with my eyes, my eyebrows pulling down.

It suited me a lot better, that first month or so when you couldn’t see him come near the Library, let alone get inside. Now he’s a regular, coming at least a couple of times a week, either alone on his calls or in company of some professor or other, but whenever he comes, there comes a point when I have to go over to tell him to keep his voice down.

Even now, watching the two of them stop walking so the vampire professor can grab a few books, I can already tell I’ll have to intervene, because their chatter is growing louder by the second.

“Anna?” Raven’s voice snaps me out of it.

“Yeah?” I ask as I turn to look at her, feeling as if I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t be doing.

“How does an unsuccessful shift affect the body?” she repeats the question.

“Ah yes,” I say. But nothing comes to mind.

“It’s—”

“No, please,” I cut her off. “Let me just think for a second longer.”

Then my eyes get drawn in Bane’s direction again, and I see him still standing there, chatting with the other professor, but now he’s casually leaned against the side of the bookshelf with his arms folded, and it all makes me unable to tear my eyes away — the confidence in the way he holds himself, the way his shirt sleeves are rolled up to reveal his muscled forearms.

“I think you’re beat, Anna,” I hear Alaric say. My eyes snap to him. “And you’re the only one who really wants to study.” He lets out a little sigh and starts packing his stuff up. “I think we should get going, don’t you, Raven?”

“Sorry, you two,” I say as they both get up.

“Don’t worry about it, Anna,” Raven replies. “Get some rest.”

“It’s the middle of the day,” I protest with a laugh. “And besides, there’ll be no rest for me until tomorrow.”

“Bloody hell,” Alaric says with a roll of his eyes, “you’re failing the shifting exam, how is it that you’re not seeing that?”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Alaric,” Raven warns him.

He shrugs, but he is a little sorry when he grumbles, “What? I mean, what’s the point in denying the truth? The sooner she makes peace with it, the better. I’m only trying to be a good friend.”

“Thanks for your undying support, friend,” I tell him in a playfully scolding voice.

The two of us laugh and Raven seems confused, but Alaric just nudges her to follow him.

I watch them leave, then throw a glance in the direction of Bane and his professor friend.

I don’t find them there. I turn my focus back onto the pile of books in front of me, half-expecting to hear his voice drift over to me.

Minutes go by and nothing happens, and I find myself all alone with my thoughts of tomorrow. The dreaded midterm exam, for which I’ve been preparing by going to the gym every single day.

Despite the weight I carry in my hips and on my stomach, I could always hold my own in physical activities. With these training sessions, I can notice my body becoming more toned, but it doesn’t make me feel any better, just thinking about the possibility of embarrassing myself in front of Professor Ahearn and the rest of the Shapeshifting Studies class.

I keep trying to read to at least pass the Foundational exam, but it’s so warm and quiet here in the Library and soon I start feeling my eyelids drop, my mind filling with images of animals attacking me, people laughing at me, and a hot asshole with his sleeves rolled up looking at me with eyes that are like burning flames.

***

I wake up to the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat. Damn it, I think as I rush to peel my face off the Service Desk, pushing myself up with the palms of my hands.

Can’t believe I fell asleep while working.

As soon as I look up, I see it was Bane who I heard clearing his throat. He’s looking at me intently, a book in the hand he has on the desk before me.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” he purrs flatly but mockingly, making me become painfully aware of my messed-up hair. “Do you think you could help me find the Librarian?”

Eager to get the embarrassment over with, I don’t wait for him to give me the book. I take it from his hand, pull it through the system and give it back. “There you go,” I say, my voice rough with sleep.

He just keeps standing there, looking at me. “You do understand you have a class with me in fifteen minutes?”

Damn it. My eyes dart to the clock to make sure he’s not messing with me.

Collecting myself, I turn my eyes back onto him, forcing a relaxed tone of voice when I say, “Of course.” Then I smile. “Looking forward to it.”

I watch his eyes narrow, but he just gives me a nod, turns on his heel and saunters out of the Library.

As soon as he’s out the door, I start scrambling to get ready for class.

I manage to dart into B13 just before the clock strikes three. Somehow, despite still being disoriented from my afternoon nap, I’m carrying a paper cup filled to the brim with steaming hot, delicious coffee.

I get settled in and take a second to smell the coffee before I taste it, but it’s at that very moment that Bane walks in.

“Hello again, Novak,” he says as he closes the door behind him.

That’s how he’s been addressing me ever since he told me I was a lost cause. Novak. It’s with no words, just something between a nod and a shake of my head, that I acknowledge him.

Settling in behind his desk, he throws me a look, one eyebrow quirked. “So grumpy.”

“Not a morning person.”

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have made three o’clock in the afternoon your morning.”

I don't say anything. I just throw him a smile, get the books out of my tote and finally take that first sip of coffee.

Within a matter of seconds, it’s special class as usual these days — mostly ignoring each other, me catching up on my homework while my ‘professor’ takes business calls and types away on his phone.

While it doesn’t exactly suit me — the fact that I’m getting no closer to being able to shift, Serra tells me I’ll be able to request a different professor no later than the start of the second term. In the meantime, this no-actual-communicating-with-the-asshole part is working out for me quite nicely.

Except for today, it seems.

Today I find myself questioning the whole arrangement, mostly because the mid-term exam is in less than twenty four hours and here I am, wasting precious time instead of using it to train.

It doesn’t help that I only seem to be able to focus on Bane — his scent, his voice, this very particular, deft way in which he spins the pencil around his fingers…

Annoyed with myself, I let out a frustrated sigh, put my feet up on my desk and aggressively flip the page of my book, catching a glance from his direction.

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve made myself comfortable like this and it’s not like we never even look at each other during these classes.

Today however, the glance instantly makes me excruciatingly aware of all my physical flaws all at once — my less-than-delicate arms, my persistent love handles, my thick thighs… It brings back unwanted memories of childhood playground cruelties. And even the later, non-playground ones.

It’s so uncomfortable that I can't help but lower my feet to the floor and bury my nose in my book.

It doesn’t help, making myself small like that. Because the next thing I know, there’s the image of Professor Ahearn’s assistant Ingrid popping into my mind — the thin blonde I’ve seen Bane flirting with on more than one occasion.

It’s all deeply unsettling, mostly because I’ve worked very hard to get where I am when it comes to body image. It’s been literal years since the last time I caught myself obsessing over how I look and how much I weigh.

That’s right, I think as it hits me. It can’t be a coincidence, that it’s happening on the same day he mocked me by calling me Sleeping Beauty.

Well, we can’t have that, now can we? Especially since it would be letting him ruin one of my favorite stories.

I put my feet up again, determined not to let him affect me like this.

Just as I finally start shifting my focus onto my homework, I hear him say, “They did what?”

I don’t look away from the book, but my ears prick up. Normally, his business calls are all about numbers and there’s no emotion in his voice while he’s on them.

“If we’re not ‘targeting vulnerable individuals’,” he tells the person on the other side of the line, “what are we even doing?”

The words make me frown.

He lets out a scoff. “You’re naive if you think this kind of thing will get any closer to legislation than it has so far.”

I don’t know what the ‘thing’ is, but I hope it does.

There’s a moment of silence before he says, a touch of mockery in his voice, “No, I don’t want you to ‘ignore it’, Colin. I want you to prepare a reassuring little statement for the next shareholder meeting.”

With that, he ends the call. He throws me a glance, leans back in his chair and goes back to typing away on his phone.

Disgust twists my face. All of a sudden, I can’t bear the thought of spending another minute in here with this man, let alone having to come for these pointless classes for two more months.

Pressing my lips tight, I lower my feet to the floor and pin him with my stare, clearing my throat.

He stops typing. He doesn’t lift his head, but he does make eye contact. “Yes, Novak?”

“Can we finish early today?” I ask as I close my book shut.

He quirks an eyebrow at me. “What’s the rush?”

“There’s just something I need to do.”

“Have you learned to shift? Did I miss something?”

“No,” I admit, however begrudgingly.

“There’s your answer.” And he goes back to typing, a little more diligently this time.

For a second, I just stare at him.

Then I go back to trying to do my homework, counting the seconds until I can get the hell out.

***

The next day, I step into the gym where the midterm exam is to be held, determined to pass despite the fact that I’m nowhere near being able to compete with humans, let alone Originals. The space is as wide as an average classroom, but at least three times as long.

Almost right in front of the entrance, I find the line for the obstacle course taking up most of the space and I stop to wait for my turn, stealing glances at the students before me. They’re chatting as they’re waiting, most of them looking as casual as if it’s just another class they’re in for.

Well, it’s no wonder really. This is not something your average shifter will get her panties in a bunch over. It’s basic stuff, things you get over with before the second term, when real trouble starts.

I let out a sigh. I’m hoping I’ll be able to get in touch with my animal at least enough to make use of the sharpened senses. It may be enough for me to pass, who knows? But right now, all I can do is scold myself for not forcing myself to work out twice a day.

It startles me, when I hear Professor Ahearn’s voice boom from somewhere ahead. “Shall we get started.”

I lean to my left, seeing her sitting at the professors’ table placed along the wall halfway down the line of students waiting for the exam. It makes my eyebrows shoot up, when I see Bane sitting next to her, chatting up that assistant of hers.

I feel the animal inside me stir and my senses sharpen, making my lips curl into a smile.

But I don’t have time to be smug about it, because the exam is starting.

There will seem to be no pomp around it. I fix my eyes on the girl who shifts into a snake to climb up the obstacle wall, slithering left right to avoid the spikes shooting out.

Don’t think about it, I tell myself. Just believe you can do it.

The more I move in line, the more I hype myself up, using the fact that, if I fail today, I’m increasing my chances of having to do this all over again next year.

I ignore the fact that Professor Ahearn has given everyone a nod so far — meaning they’ve passed — and I especially ignore the sniggers coming from the other students when it’s finally my turn to give it a go.

As soon as I walk past Bane, doing my best not to pay him any attention, my animal disappears, and with it, all my sharpened senses.

“Hey,” I try to talk to her, “he is not what we should be focusing on.”

Of course, there’s no reply.

I walk up to the first obstacle — the wall with spikes shooting out. I guess I’ll have to try to pull this off without any benefits of being a shifter. I take a deep breath and I start climbing.

It sends me crashing to the ground, when the first spike shoots out.

I hear laughter coming from all around me.

I grit my teeth, I get up and I try again.

I find no other way not to get hurt besides getting down as soon as the wall attacks.

Fuck. The more I try, the more riotous the laughter around me grows.

Until I get this urge to look to my right, only to see this shifter casting magic to make the wall slippery.

I fall on my ass, closing my eyes shut and swallowing a cry as my pelvis explodes in pain.

No no no.

I sense everyone stop what they’re doing even before I fling my eyes open to see them all staring to my right.

I crane my neck to find Bane towering over the guy who cast magic at me.

It makes me forget all about my own aching pelvis, when I hear the strangled “I, um, I was only playing” coming from the guy’s mouth.

The next thing I know, Bane is lifting him off the floor by the collar of his shirt, making his legs flail and his hands dart to the single arm keeping him in the air.

The sight makes my breath catch. Somehow I manage to get myself off the floor without glancing away for a second, completely absorbed by how unfazed Bane looks, neither his face nor his body showing any signs of strain except the flexing muscles in his arm.

For one long moment, Bane just keeps staring at the guy, angling his head so as not to let him look away.

It makes me frown, when I notice the growing stain on the guy’s crotch. He’s wet his pants.

It’s only then that Bane drops him to the ground, lowers himself into a crouch and leans in a little to say, “We don’t prey on the weak.”

With that, he gets up, turns on his heel and walks back to his seat.

My frown only grows deeper when I see the ease with which he goes back to flirting with this confident smile on his face.

Now there are countless eyes on me. Including Professor Ahearn’s.

Bracing myself, I turn to look at her and see her give me a shake of her head, signaling that I’ve failed the exam.

It’s not the exam that is making me so angry. It’s the way everyone keeps looking at me as I walk out of the gym. ‘The weak’ echoes in my mind, making me pissed at Bane for intervening in the first place. If he didn’t, this would be so much easier to bear.

I’m so embarrassed, but at the same time, so determined not to let this happen to me ever again.

It’s before I reach my room that I decide. It’s rituals I’ll be trying out next. It’s with good reason that shifters normally don’t try them before they’ve shifted for the first time — the reason being the fact that it can be dangerous trying to channel the power of the constellations without having a stable bond with your animal.

I don’t care. I’ll be trying it regardless.

Chapter 16

There’s a thick blanket of snow covering the grounds outside and despite there still being three whole weeks until Winter Solstice, the Common Room chatter that’s still ringing in my ears is positively festive.

I close the door to my room behind me and let out a sigh. Time to try a ritual one more time.

I get the stuff from my desk drawer and go sit on my bed. This is something best done under the sky, preferably when it’s dusk and the moon and stars are just beginning to show.

But I haven’t been well ever since the mid-term exam. This whole thing with being a shifter seems to be making things surface, things from my past that I’ve worked very hard on putting behind me. So I’m feeling raw and tense all the time, and these past two weeks, I’ve been avoiding everyone and skipping classes under the pretense of being sick.

It’s been a relief, especially when it comes to special classes, so much so that I’ve been wondering whether I should just keep doing it. I mean, I can’t imagine my ‘professor’ having any objections.

Unless I want to blow my cover, it’s not like I can go skipping around the castle grounds doing rituals like nothing’s going on.

It’s tiresome, trying to do these rituals without ever making progress. The chances for the constellations to gift me with a power before I’ve shifted for the first time are next to nothing.

But nothing I’ve done to trigger shifting has worked so far. Maybe getting in touch with the constellations will be the thing that makes a difference.

Here’s to hoping, I think as I start preparing.

Today is the day I have a chance to establish a connection with Scorpio, so it’s a bowl of water I place in front of myself. This is not a constellation you’re advised to have anything to do with before you’ve gotten in touch with one of the gentler ones — Scorpio is not just powerful, it’s known for its dark side as well. Seductive. Manipulative. Destructive.

Unfortunately, it’s the only one I feel myself being drawn to. It’s not like I have endless opportunities before the first-term exam, and if I don’t pass it… Let’s just say it would take a miracle to prevent me from having to repeat the first year.

I take the candles as well, which are supposed to help me get into the right mindset. I place them around the bowl and light them up, so their flames are reflecting off the surface of the water in front of me.

I clasp my hands in my lap and I fix my eyes on the way the fire flickers in the water.

“Hello?”

Nothing.

“You know, I really need something to happen today,” I say in a hushed voice.

Silence.

“If it doesn’t happen, then how am I supposed to think that this is not some sick joke?”

There’s another moment of silence that angers me.

“Really? So I’m actually supposed to be a shifter with no fucking powers?”

Silence.

Now feeling both angry and spiteful, I push even harder. I close my eyes shut and I push until images start swarming inside me — the book that chose me, the symbol on the cover of that book. Despite this dread building inside me, I keep pushing until I feel something break inside me.

It’s a ping from my phone that distracts me.

I let out a frustrated groan and knock the bowl over, spilling all the water.

I grab the phone and see it’s a text from Alaric. “You know, Anna, if you blow us off one more time… I’m afraid we’ll have to eat those nachos you left in Raven’s room.”

I drop my phone back on the bed and run my palms down my face.

Normal, why can’t you be normal about this?

“Be there in ten,” I type a reply, knowing they're in the Junkyard and deciding to say fuck it to hiding in my room like this.

There’s this feeling of my entire body vibrating in this nauseating way, but I force myself to get up, I throw on my warmest hoodie and I walk out of my room.

***

I’m still so nauseous, but it’s making me feel better, sitting in the Junkyard with my friends, listening to Alaric explaining to Raven exactly why he won’t be watching the last season of The Clash of the Originals.

Just as I’m about to join in on the conversation, I feel this need to look in the direction of the entrance.

Where I see Bane standing in the archway, looking at me with narrowed eyes.

There’s a split second of silence before his voice carries over the distance between us. “My office, Novak.” He moves to walk away, but when he sees me still frozen in place, he stops to order, “Now.”

Great, this is just what I need right now. But I get up, watching him start moving down the hallway.

It doesn’t make me feel any better, when I catch the way Alaric’s looking at me.

“Bloody hell,” he says with a grimace that tells me he’s sorry for whatever’s about to happen.

I grit my teeth, throw them both a nod and rush out of the Junkyard.

It’s halfway down the hallway leading to the Entrance Hall that I catch up with Bane.

“Um, what is this regarding?” I ask his back.

“Keep walking,” he cuts me off without turning to look at me.

But it’s far from good, how I’m feeling right now, and his attitude is only making it worse, so I need to make this as quick and painless as possible.

“Alright alright,” I start amicably, walking around him to block his way. It makes my eyebrows pull down, when I see the dark circles around his eyes. I dismiss it, asking, “But why do we have to go all the way to Grimm Tower?”

“You’re right, we don’t,” he says coldly. He whips his phone out of his pocket and the next thing I know, he’s reciting my own email to me, a touch of mockery in his voice. “‘I would just like to let you know that I’ve fallen ill and won’t be able to come to class this week.’ Then, just today, you say you’re ‘still not feeling well enough to show up tomorrow.’”

He lowers his phone and drags his eyes down my body. “You don’t exactly look sick to me, Novak.”

“I’m making sure to drink plenty of fluids,” I say innocently.

“Students who aren’t well don’t hang out in the Junkyard.”

I shrug. “Well I’m a lot better now, so…”

He lets out a scoff. “You know, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t insult my intelligence.”

“Fine,” I reply, “I was only sick last week. Right now, I have a bad case of menstrual cramps.”

It startles me, when he leans in to take a whiff of me. “Liar,” he drawls, pinning me in place with a knowing stare.

I feel blood rush to my face. “You know, this is not exactly professional behavior,” I grit out and move to walk away.

He blocks my way. “Do I look like I give a shit?” he snaps. “There’s something going on and I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what it is.” With that, he folds his arms, waiting.

Ah, so this is a matter of ego. “Come on,” I grumble with a scoff, “this can’t be the first time someone’s skipped a class of yours.”

He gets in my face. “You lied about being sick. What makes you think you can be so nonchalant about it, huh?”

I take a step back, throwing him an incredulous look. “Um, the fact that you, the professor, couldn’t care less about any of this?”

Something flashes through his eyes. I see a muscle in his jaw twitch before he grits out, “This is a matter of my reputation, Novak. So if you don’t spill it, right this instant, I won’t just be forcing you to come to class tomorrow. You’ll be getting detention.”

“Detention?” I echo with a frustrated laugh. “Ugh, could you be more hypocritical?” And despite my better judgment, I can’t resist getting in his face, poison in my voice when I say, “Need I remind you I’m not some snot-faced student, and it was you yourself who said I’m a lost cause and you’d only be coming to these special classes because you have to?” I take a step back to throw daggers at him. “So why don’t you leave me alone and find someone else to fuck with?”

Once I’m done, he just keeps looking at me in wonder. My chest heaving with anger, I let out a scoff and move to push past him and back into the Junkyard.

“Get back here,” he orders in a low, pissed-off voice as I feel his fingers try to wrap around the wrist of my right hand.

The touch sends sparks flying through my skin, but I just tear my hand away and keep marching back into the Junkyard, where I find Alaric and Raven still sitting on the bench, staring at me as I approach.

I come to stand in front of them, but I can barely see them, that’s how out of it I am. My barriers are down and I can’t seem to get them up.

Gods, this… It’s not good.

“Anna,” I hear Alaric start hesitantly.

I force myself to truly look at him, only to find such surprise in his eyes. “Yeah?” I ask, all breathless.

It’s just as he opens his mouth to say something that it hits me. I grit my teeth. “Did you just use your hearing to eavesdrop on my conversation?”

He clamps his mouth shut.

For a second, I just look at him, feeling this violent anger rise to the surface. “I thought you were a powerless vampire,” I demand with cold suspicion in my voice.

He hesitates. “I’m not powerless,” he says, still reluctant, “I just choose not to use my powers.”

I have to close my eyes and take a deep breath so as not to lose my shit. Here I am, at my wit’s end because there seems to be nothing I can do to even get close to using my powers, while he…

“Are you alright, Anna?” I hear Raven ask.

I only manage to shake my head before Alaric cuts in. “The world is cruel enough,” I hear him explain, this unusual defensiveness in his voice. “It doesn’t need Originals making it even worse.”

I take another deep breath, but my chest is still heaving. I open my eyes. “Right,” I say mockingly. “That sure as hell isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

There’s a moment of silence before both him and Raven shoot me these looks filled with pity.

“What?” I grit out, having to fight not to raise my voice as my breathing turns even heavier. “Why the hell do you two think you have the right to look at me like that?”

Alaric just looks at me with unblinking eyes. After a moment of hesitation, I watch Raven get up and move towards me, making my eyebrows pull down. Before I can slink away, she’s already placed a delicate palm on my upper arm, as if to comfort me.

It’s with horror in my eyes that I look at her. She freezes as soon as she touches me, as soon as she feels it, too.

Something’s about to happen and I’m already failing to stop it.

I watch her eyes round, her body still frozen in place, as my mind starts flashing with a series of violent, murky images from her life seen through her own eyes.

There’s the cold, piercing stare of the old fae who came to my dying father’s court, charming him as she cursed his sons to forever remain in their shifted forms.

Then there’s the thickest fog of the oldest forest I’m running through, searching for what was taken from me — my brothers, my family, my everything.

Then there’s the pain searing into me when I finally find them and take their curse upon myself, only for them to leave me there for days that turn into years and years that turn into decades, as I lose every sense of what’s real, every sense of myself, every sense of love the way I used to know it.

When it stops, I’m breathless and her hand is still on my upper arm, but now her eyes are glassy and I can feel her body taking from mine — cleansing itself of coldness, discomfort and pain while poisoning mine with all of that and worse.

Just like they always do — take, take and take, until I’m just an empty shell of a person, sitting on the floor of that goddamn room with my legs pulled to my chest and my unseeing eyes fixed ahead.

The fear is not sudden, but it’s blinding.

As if in slow motion, I tear my arm away from her, needing to get the hell out of here as soon as possible.

It makes my eyes round, when I stumble back and see the burst of light shoot out of my body, her eyes clearing and rounding once again as the impact sends her frail body flying back and hitting the tree trunk behind.

There’s a moment of silence during which I just stand there in shock, watching her eyelids drop and her body slide down the trunk as Alaric rushes over to her with such panic in his movements. Throwing himself onto the ground, he slaps her into opening her eyes.

It’s with such anger that he turns to me, lifting himself into a crouch. “Are you out of your fucking mind?”

There’s a whimpering ‘sorry’ trapped in my throat, but the shock and the violent torrent of emotions are rendering me mute and motionless.

For a moment that feels like an eternity, I just keep standing there. Then I turn on my heel and start running straight back to my room.

Chapter 17

No matter what I do, I can’t seem to calm down, the image of Raven refusing to get out of my head even after hours spent trying to process it in the silence of my room. There was so much pain in those memories of hers, it makes me feel this overwhelming need to run back there, pull her into a tight hug and tell her she's not alone.

It's simply not an option, though. I'll have to apologize, sure, but I'll have to find some way to do it without getting close again.

Because this incident has made many new questions arise, but it has also made one thing clear — I've started getting too close to those two, too relaxed around them, and that simply won't do.

I guess it's a good thing that I at least have something to distract me. This is the first time I’ve managed to make any progress since I’ve started trying to do the rituals, and after today, Scorpio won’t be in the right position for another two weeks.

So as soon as the light outside my window starts dying down, I grab my shit and I rush outside, heading straight for the closest entrance into the Lycan Forest — the opening in the trees to the right of the foot of the Lycan Tower.

I enter the oldest, scariest woods I know, my determination taking a hit before I've taken a single step down the path weaving through the underbrush. Even on the sunniest day, I don't exactly like this place. There's something about it that makes me unsettled. I don't know if it's the strange silence that somehow persists despite all the sounds, the mind-bogglingly old trees that feel more alive than trees should, or that everything in here seems to always be breathing out, rustling, calling out to me.

Goddamn it.

I muster all my courage and I keep walking down the path until I reach a clearing with a river meandering through the trees.

It’s near the shore that I set the ritual stuff up. I sit in front of the bowl and candles, cross legged, and just sit there for a second.

Dusk is gathering all around me, and when I look up, there’s a web of stars starting to show across the darkening sky.

When I look down, I see them reflecting in the water in front of me.

I close my eyes, letting the remainder of the image explode into a universe filled with stars, some twinkling from far away, some burning like the sun.

It takes my breath away, when some of the stars connect into an image of a scorpio and all of a sudden, I hear the rush of water from the brook as if it were a waterfall crashing down on me.

Instead of the warm, fuzzy feelings of establishing a connection with a constellation, I get attacked by the image of Raven lying on the ground in the Junkyard and the question I’ve been asking myself ever since it happened.

Why did it feel like it felt when my mother would come to my room for me to comfort her, just with… Magic?

Before I can stop it, the single image of Raven turns into a torrent of images — of a book with no title, strange cities, eyes with burning fire in them, crowds of weirdly dressed people, the symbol, faces of people in pain... All of the pain feels so real, it’s like my entire being is caving underneath.

Still, none of it hurts as much as knowing it’s all my fault, the most suffocating wave of guilt and shame crashing down on me.

“Help,” I plead, trying to get in touch with my animal, but nothing happens, except for a sob growing in my throat.

I gulp and I grit my teeth, feeling this unbearable urge to make it all stop.

As if in a trance, I find myself getting up and approaching the river, getting to the shore and not stopping.

My eyes round in fear yet I still find myself slowly wading into the water, its sharp coldness sending a shock of pain through my body.

But it’s a relief, more than anything else, when I plunge myself under the surface and feel the first glimmer of hope in gods know how long — the promise of once and for all being lulled into nothingness.

***

It breaks the calming monotony and makes adrenaline surge through my body, when I feel something slide under my right arm and wrap itself around my waist. An arm. My eyes fly open, but before I can react, the grip becomes more aggressive, and the next thing I know, my body is lifting off the riverbed and my head is breaking through the surface of the water. My mouth opens in a desperate gasp for air, and I realize someone is dragging me out of the river, a man whose chest my back is pressed into.

There’s the lizard brain exploding with joy, greedy for life, but the pain and guilt are so devastatingly overwhelming, even more so now that I’ve finally figured out how to make them stop, once and for all.

Just as the man reaches the shallow with his arm still tight around my waist — in the hopes of breaking myself free and diving back into the promise of nothingness, I start thrashing with my upper body, my legs kicking and my fingers clawing at the arm.

I hear a sharp “No—” broken off by a groan filled with frustrated anger. The arm loosens a little, but only for a split second. When it tightens again, its grip is ironclad. I can’t move my upper body at all.

There’s the voice ringing in my head, so unbearably familiar, but I don’t let myself linger on it, because he’s managed to drag me all the way out, my legs flailing in the air above the hard ground of the river shore.

When he puts me down and pulls the arm away, I waste no time. My legs refusing to obey, I throw myself on all fours and start furiously crawling back into the water.

A muffled curse reaches me. The very next moment, his body is blocking my way, his hands mercilessly pulling me up. “Will you stop that?” I hear the voice — pissed-off and choked-up, as he forces me to stand straight.

Practically blind with tears and river water, I don’t let the voice get to me. I try to walk around him only to bump into his chest, hard. I try to run around him. Once. Twice. I can’t seem to fucking escape him.

The third time I try, he grabs me by the upper arms, holding me so tight, I can’t move an inch. “Stop, goddamnit,” he spits out, his anger only seeming to grow. “Focus on my voice.”

I don’t even want to look at him. If I look at him, let alone listen to him, I might never get back into the water. Then when will all this stop?

I let out an angry, dragged-out groan, putting all my strength into getting his hands off me and hitting him in the chest with both my palms to push him away.

Remaining as still as a rock, he snatches my wrists and gets in my face, making me turn my head to the side. “I said focus on my voice,” he orders with a roughness that instantly makes all my muscles go limp.

Just like that.

I turn my head to look at him, blinking my tears away. It’s him for sure, but it makes my breath catch, this soft, warm glow radiating off his skin.

“Good,” he says, a little less pissed off. Slowly and with narrowed eyes — as if he’s expecting me to make a run for it, he lets go of my wrists. “Now breathe.”

I listen, trying to drag as much air into my lungs as possible, but only managing short, staggered breaths. It’s only then that I become aware of it. My entire body is shaking. Violently. Have I been shaking like this the entire time?

“Deeper,” he orders.

But the shaking just won’t die down.

Unceremoniously, he peels my soaking wet jacket off and drops it to the ground. It surprises me, that I don’t even flinch, let alone try to stop him. But it does make me frown, when he takes his own jacket off and slings it over my shoulders. Leather, only wet on the outside. Almost instantly, it makes the shaking start subsiding — its warmth against my skin and his scent filling my nostrils.

It takes me a second to fight off the urge to bury my nose in it.

“What’re you,” I start in a rough voice, breaking off to take a shaky lungful of air, “doing here?”

He studies me for a second, then lets out a pent-up breath and takes a small, cautious step back without taking his eyes off me. It’s in a serious, but much less pissed-off voice that he says, “I’m a shifter, Novak. I like to spend time in the Lycan Forest.” Then, through gritted teeth but strangely softly, “What were you doing?”

I barely register the words. I’m so cold and shaken up, and his voice and that glow radiating off his skin — they’re making me want to get closer, promising warmth and safety unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.

“Answer the question,” comes a patient demand.

I don’t hesitate. I just blurt out, “Scorpio.”

“Scorpio?” he echoes. I’m almost squirming with the need to get closer to him, but my answer is making him frown again. “Don’t you know how dangerous that is? Huh?”

It jolts me back to focus, the disapproval in his voice. I press my lips tight and I tear my eyes away from him, suddenly aware of how stupid, childish and pathetic I must seem. Still, I find myself whispering, more to myself than him, “I need to do this.”

With the corner of my eye, I see him run his hand down his face and hear him mumble something to himself, making out only “stubborn” and “death of me.”

Feeling a sob coming on, I clench my jaw and move to walk away, planning on taking a walk and returning when he's gone.

He flinches, but doesn’t try to stop me. “When’s your next opportunity?” I hear him ask.

I stop midstep. I frown. “Two weeks,” I say in a low, joyless voice.

He lets out a sigh. “Fine. You can forget about special classes, but in two weeks, you’re meeting me here and you’re doing the ritual under my supervision.”

I turn to look at him again, defiance in my eyes. “I can still—”

“No,” he forcefully cuts me off, getting in my face again. “Right now,” he commands as he gestures at the Lycan Tower, “you’re getting your ass back inside the tower, you’re changing out of those wet clothes and you’re going straight to bed.”

His tone transfixing instead of angering me, I just give him a nod.

For a moment, he seems to hesitate, the anticipation making me swallow roughly.

Then he moves to walk away, my stomach dropping at the very thought of the growing distance.

It sends a flutter through my chest, when he stops mid step and turns to look at me again, as if he’s remembered something. “I’ll be sending someone to check,” he says with eyes narrowing at me, “so don’t even think about disobeying me. Understood?”

I stare into his eyes for a second. “Understood,” I finally say.

He turns on his heel and starts marching out of the woods, leaving me standing there in growing confusion, soaking wet with his jacket as the only source of actual warmth.

Chapter 18

The two weeks go by in agony. I’m sitting in the Library, behind the Service Desk, and I’m supposed to be using this time to study, but I just can’t seem to stop wasting it. I’m either obsessing about tonight’s ritual or the fact I still haven't apologized to Raven.

I glance at my phone, finding no new messages. I let out a sigh. It occurs to me that I could just go do it right this instance, but then that worry starts gnawing at me — that she'll say something about what transpired between us that day in the Junkyard, that questions will ensue and that things will become even more complicated than they were.

That look that Alaric threw me echoes through my mind again, making me shake my head in an effort to get it out.

It draws my attention, when another group of students walks into the Library, talking in hushed, excited voices.

“Now they’re saying it was Nature Magic,” one of the guys says.

I don’t even have to guess what they’re talking about. It’s what everyone seems to be talking about these days — the three dead bodies found a week ago, no bite marks or puncture wounds to be found, yet completely drained of blood. It seems to be the stuff of great mystery.

“I don’t know,” one of the girls replies. “I find it suspicious, how the Authority can’t seem to make up their minds.”

They walk past me, leaving this hollow feeling in my gut. That’s how it always goes with people. Either you hurt them or they hurt you. Raven and Alaric are better off without me anyway.

Alright, I tell myself, back to studying.

I take a deep breath and force myself to fix my eyes on the text in front of me.

Types of magic, that’s the section I’m currently on. I know most of this shit already, but I really need to brush up on my knowledge of Divine.

The next thing I know, I’m typing ‘Jericho Bane’ into the browser on my phone, clicking on every result that pops up, none of which are new to me and none of which say anything about the man himself. There are so many things I feel I just need to know.

What kind of magic is it, that’s allowing him to shift his eyes like that?

How can he be so familiar and so opaque to me all at once?

Or, more importantly… Why oh why am I letting this spin out of control like this?

Letting out a groan, I close the tab and try to go back to my book.

Now those words are ringing in my head again. “I said focus on my voice.” I keep replaying them, basking in their echoes like some love-sick little puppy.

Gross.

Normally, when I take a step back to see what I’m doing, it’s enough to make me stop. This time, I can’t seem to stop the memories from flooding my senses — seemingly countless stored images of his muscles flexing, of him lifting that guy off the ground, of the ironclad grip of his arm around my waist.

It leaves me breathless and makes this frustrating longing tug at my navel, whenever I think about how easily he could toss me around regardless of my weight. I feel myself slipping into playing out yet another fantasy.

It all scares me, probably because I know I’ll be seeing him tonight, but the fact that it scares me makes me angry.

I use the anger. I tell myself I seem to be very far from his type. And even if I weren't, I tell myself he’d be terrible in bed, an asshole such as himself. Not just because he’s selfish, but because he’s so hot — guys like him have a tendency of not thinking they have to work for it.

I tell myself it’s because of these changes I’m experiencing that I have these feelings in the first place. The facts only seem to prove my point. I mean, I don’t even like the guy. Then I start making breakthroughs with my powers, he happens to be there and, all of a sudden, I’m sleeping curled up in his jacket, craving his scent even while still inhaling it?

Going from human to shifter — if that’s not something that’ll mess with your head, I don’t know what is.

I just need to show up tonight, make sure I’m aware of how messed-up all this can be, and get the ritual over with. I need to. If I don’t, then I really don’t stand a chance of passing the first-term exam. With that, I’m guaranteeing an entire year of my life going down the drain.

Thank my lucky stars it’s advised that you do these rituals in silence. Maybe I won’t even have to look at the guy.

***

As soon as I start approaching the spot where he found me last time, I see there’s something off. It’s too bright considering it’s dusk out here. But even before I make my way through the trees and onto the little clearing in front of the river, I hear the crackling.

Fire. He’s lit a fire.

I spot him lying on the ground near the fire, propped on his elbow and typing away on his phone. He looks up at me without lifting his head and motions for me to get settled in.

I nod, my lips curling into a smile. Silence. We actually will be doing this in silence. It’s so hot, the way he has one leg bent at the knee and the way his jacket is straining over his muscles, but at least I won’t have his voice to worry about.

I take a seat to his right, making sure to put some distance between us, and I start preparing the stuff for the ritual.

I stop hearing the typing. There’s a long moment of silence before this soft clicking sound makes me throw a glance at him only to see he’s playing with some silver lighter I’ve never seen him with before.

Focus, Anna.

I get the bowl out of my bag and fill it with water. It’s only when I reach for the candles that I realize I won’t be needing them.

He’s actually prepared for this. Not only do I have the stars reflecting off the water, I have the roaring fire casting its light.

Good, this should be good.

Just as I get myself comfortable and fix my eyes on the water, the soft clicking of the lighter stops and I feel something small hit my shoulder.

I frown, glancing up and down to realize he’s thrown a pebble at me.

Almost forgetting myself, I open my mouth to ask what he’s doing, but he just motions at a little bottle in front of the fire.

I quirk my eyebrow at him.

Letting out a sigh, he just motions at it again and sits straight, preparing for his watch over me.

I take the bottle and I down the liquid that tastes like metal. I did read about shifters using special concoctions to facilitate these kinds of rituals. I’m actually glad he’s brought some with him, even though I can’t feel the effect, at least not yet.

In complete silence, except for the crackling of the fire, I turn my focus back onto the surface of the water in the bowl in front of me, feeling his eyes on me.

I keep sitting there for what seems like an eternity, absolutely nothing happening.

He throws another pebble at me. When I glance up at him, the look he’s giving me makes me feel as if he can hear the wheels spinning in my head. He thinks I should just make them stop.

Easier said than done. Still, I nod and try to do as he says.

There’s another moment of silence before I hear another soft click of the lighter, the sound igniting something in me.

But I only hear the one, as if he’s forgotten himself just for a second.

I throw him a look, trying to communicate that I’d like for him to keep playing with it.

He does. Every time the lid clicks open and I hear the soft sound of the fire igniting, it seems to take me farther away to some strange yet familiar place.

My vision blurs and my head starts swimming.

Soon it becomes so nauseating, I close my eyes and start rocking back and forth to try to make it stop.

It doesn’t help.

Until I feel the touch of a hand on my left shoulder, so warm and solid, it almost instantly grounds me.

I feel him pull his hand away and retreat back to his spot, but the nausea stops, and so does the rocking.

I open my eyes, fixing them on the bowl again.

On the other side of the surface of the water, there’s the entire universe, made up of all the people I’ve ever known, all the people I’ll never get to meet, all the things I’ve seen and all the ones that have left their mark.

The book.

The eyes.

The symbol.

A shiver runs down my spine. The goddamn symbol. Why do I have a feeling something starts awakening in me every time I recall the symbol?

I don’t know why, but I get up.

At that very moment, the universe in front of me seems to get sucked into a hole, I dig my feet firmer into the ground, opening my mouth to call for help, but then…

Then there’s nothing.

***

I’m standing on my own two feet and still, it feels like floating. There’s darkness all around me, but I can feel something in its depths — breathing, watching, waiting.

For one long, long moment, there’s only silence.

Then that deep, ethereal female voice booms from everywhere around me. You need to leave this place, it says. The underlying threat shakes me to my very core.

I gulp, deciding not to do as it says. Not now, when I’m closer than I’ve ever been. Nervously, I peer deeper into the darkness, but find nothing there.

And I know it won’t answer — it never answers, but still I say, my voice coming out all choked-up, “Alright, I’ll leave.” I pause before I add, “Just show yourself first.”

I’m not talking to you, she says coldly.

For a second, it renders me speechless, that I actually got an answer. Then I find myself taking a few hesitant steps forward. There’s this growl that booms from the darkness, but I keep walking until I see these barely visible shapes.

Bars.

It feels like a punch in the gut that knocks the air out of my lungs. I stop, and something nudges me to glance down and then up. There’s no visible end to them, as if I’ve found myself in boundless space.

The growling turns louder and more menacing, making me snap out of it. I take a deep breath before I do it. “Why won’t you talk to me?” I ask with determination in my voice, making her go quiet.

To my surprise, she lets out a low, mocking laugh. Why won’t I talk to you, she echoes. Alright. Let’s talk.

Fuck yes.

Tell me, she says before I can even open my mouth. Who are you?

The question makes me frown. “Anna.”

The silence makes it clear to me I haven’t gotten the answer right. “Um, Librarian at Grimm Academy.”

I only get more silence. “A shifter?”

She laughs again. No, you’re not.

The words make me grit my teeth and I find myself trying to get closer to the bars, but they just recede further into the darkness. “Well,” I say with angry exasperation, “I won’t be until you choose to stop this charade and show me your face.”

I can show you my face, she says simply, and it knocks the air out of my lungs all over again, when I see the bars get closer and a silhouette becomes visible behind them. In silent wonder, I watch the animal appear, having to look way way up to meet its glowing, narrowed eyes. The largest, most dangerous looking wolf I’ve ever seen, with eyes of burning ice and a smirk on its face.

Showing my face to you won’t help, she says mockingly, because you want to stay blind. You’re not ready for any of the things that will happen to you. And I’m way too old to be into chit-chat. I suggest you leave me alone.

She turns to saunter back into the shadows, leaving me fuming. “You know,” I yell after her, “I think I preferred it when you didn’t talk to me.”

She lets out a low chuckle. Your wish is my command. This, she says as she stops for a second, not turning back to look at me, is so you’ll learn your place.

“What is?” I demand, fear worming its way into my voice.

Everything turns pitch black and I remain standing there, the darkness turning more and more unsettling with each second.

I start looking around and seeing more nothing.

“Hey,” I yell out, my fear only growing when I hear the desperation in my voice, “let me out.”

Nothing happens. Except, I could fucking swear that the darkness grew even more absolute.

There’s this tightness in my chest as my mind starts buzzing like crazy. Am I stuck here?

No no no.

The tightness intensifies. It travels up to my throat.

My eyes rounding in fear, I start gasping for air, one hand flying to my neck and one blindly trying to find something to grab onto.

***

What makes me come to, it’s like a shock that goes through my entire body.

“Novak,” I hear a voice boom with an urgency that almost snaps me out of it.

But there’s this surge of power, sparking like electricity, that’s rushing through my veins and keeping me standing on my feet, looking high up at the sky even though all my muscles are limp.

The starry night sky, that’s what I’m staring at, with rounded eyes and pounding heart, as I let the violent current keep going through me.

I can do nothing but keep staring, my mind buzzing trying to figure out whether this is what it could feel like, a moment before you die.

It feels like an eternity and I wonder if it’ll ever stop because it hurts, but then the current slows down, and I start to breathe again — heavily, my muscles tensing as my body starts slumping to the ground.

Two strong hands catch me midfall, hooking themselves under my armpits as my head falls to my chest. Slowly, they start lowering me onto the ground. I let my wobbly legs bend in the knees until I’m kneeling, this strange sensation drawing my eyes to the palms I’ve pressed against the ground at my sides.

There are sparks shooting off the tips of my fingers.

My eyes rounding, I move to get up, but my body won’t let me. I’m tense and aching all over.

Just a moment ago, there was such fear coursing through my body. Now, I’m in the strangest haze ever.

I lift my palms to my thighs, slowly flexing my fingers and feeling the current rushing through them.

“Come on,” the voice urges me just as a hand holding a bottle of water appears in my line of sight. “There’ll be time for that later.”

I stop flexing my fingers, but I don’t reach for the bottle. I don’t even look up. I just lazily shake my head, transfixed by the sparks.

I know it in a way that requires no thinking. My animal rejected me. Scorpio didn’t.

Still… This is what I get?

Angrily, I try to make the sparks bigger, but they stay just as they were.

I try again, gritting my teeth and balling my hands into fists when I fail.

“Careful, Novak,” I hear the voice warn me. “It’s a gift from the constellations. You don’t want to appear ungrateful.”

The voice helps me tear my eyes away from my hands, finding him crouching close by, looking at me intently with his forearms resting on his knees and that glow radiating off his skin again.

For a moment, I just stare at him — forgetting all about the sparks, not thinking at all, just… feeling.

It’s so hard at first, to untangle what I feel. That’s how all-encompassing it is.

As I keep looking, it all narrows down into a single thought.

This man is mine.

And what I need more than anything else right now is to show him that he is.

Without a conscious decision, I lower my palms to the ground and start slowly crawling over to him, watching his eyes narrow at me.

Until I get really close and see them round, his hand flying back to maintain balance as he lowers himself to the ground so he’s propped on his elbows. I feel his body tense up as I come to straddle him and wrap my arms around his torso, resting my cheek on his to whisper, “What is this, what I’m feeling?”

It makes me frown, when he doesn’t relax. But he doesn’t try to get me off either. A long moment goes by before his low, tense mumbling reaches me. “A lot of power. Bottled up for too long. It’ll pass.”

The mumbling makes my frown grow deeper, but the voice still soothes me like I knew it would. He’s so hot and hard under me, it makes the coil in the pit of my stomach tighten with a growing need. I dip my head to catch a whiff of his neck, that intoxicating scent of his making me close my eyes.

I drag my nose up his skin and give the spot right under his earlobe a slow lick.

His muscles clenching even harder, he grits out a low grumble.

He doesn’t move to stop me and now there’s wet heat pooling between my legs. I start trailing the length of his jawline with soft little bites.

The next thing I know, his arm is clamping around my back and I’m being flipped over, finding myself lying on the ground. He’s braced on his forearms, his hips nestling between my legs and his hands pinning my wrists to my sides.

There’s a violent flutter in my stomach when I look into the eyes hovering above mine. “You don’t know what you’re doing,” he warns as he moves to pull away.

I wrap my legs around him to stop him.

He stills, the scowl on his face making me let out a muffled, playful laugh. I drag my teeth over my bottom lip, his eyes darting to my mouth and fixing there.

“Novak,” he grumbles in yet another warning, but his eyes don’t leave my lips.

I don’t say anything. I just arch my spine and buck my hips, my breath catching when I rub against him and feel how hard he is.

I hear him let out a groan before he buries his face in my neck, inhaling deeply.

Then, abruptly, his grip on my wrists loosens and he starts pulling back. It makes me frown, but the very next second, I feel his hands grab onto my waist as he lowers his nose to my neck again, hungrily dragging it down my body.

I close my eyes, my lips parting and my fingers digging into the ground as the heat between my legs intensifies. He only stops when he reaches my stomach, taking the flesh between his teeth and pulling at it in a way that makes me let out a shaky breath, the coil in my stomach winding unbearably tight.

I grumble.

Then there’s this sharp, impatient tugging at both sides of my hips, followed by fabric gliding down my legs. The next thing I know, the cold winter air is nipping at my skin, his arms are wrapping around my legs and I’m feeling those same bites on my inner thighs, one then the other. They travel higher and higher, making the anticipation grow until my core is throbbing with helpless desire.

My hands fly to his head, my fingers threading through his hair and guiding him where I need him most.

It makes me let out a loud moan, when I finally feel his mouth on me. He groans, his fingers digging into my thighs as his tongue buries into my aching flesh.

The pressure is too much. I lift my head off the ground, I squirm and I grumble, and he almost instantly eases it, the movements of his tongue becoming more languid.

Content, I throw my head back and look up at the stars, my moaning and the grinding of my core against his face quickly becoming more and more desperate, until I feel I can no longer bear the torture.

Just as I move to pull him up, needing him inside me, he grips me tighter and does this thing with his mouth that makes me cry out, all my muscles clenching just before the coil within me finally snaps, sending shocks of pleasure through my body as the stars explode high above me.

I keep lying on the ground, breathless, pounding and tingling, feeling all the tension inside me dispersing, until I sense him pulling back and I grab onto his waistband, needing more of him.

He just removes my hand, pushes himself off the ground, turns his back to me and says, almost too quietly for me to hear, “Now get dressed.”

Still in a haze, I get up and do as he says, watching him wipe his mouth with his hand with this tension in his entire body.

It makes my eyebrows pull down, when he turns to face me again without looking me in the eye. It takes me even more by surprise, when he bends, wraps an arm around my waist and hoists me off the ground in one determined move.

“Hey,” I protest, starting to finally come back to my senses when he starts walking with me thrown over his shoulder. “What do you think you’re doing?” I demand as I start struggling to get down.

I don’t just fail. I don’t even manage to mess with his steady, determined pace. “You’ve completed your first ritual,” he says in a tense voice, “you’re worn out and you need sleep.”

“Let me down,” I order.

“Will not,” comes the reply.

It’s when the humiliation really kicks in that I get fuming. I muster all my strength, throw my leg back and slam my knee into his chest. Though it doesn’t seem to hurt him, this does surprise him enough to drop me.

I stumble back, but I keep myself on my feet, seeing him throw me a scowl. He takes a step closer, but I lift a warning finger.

“Just… Get away from me,” I tell him, I turn on my heel and run away.

Chapter 19

In this haze, I go to my room and sit on my bed with my knees pulled up. First, I make the sparks appear again only to convince myself of how useless they are. Then, slowly and in great detail, I relive how thinking about the symbol seemed to jumpstart things. I relive my conversation with my wolf and the little lesson she tried to teach me. I relive the moment I was gifted with my first power by the Scorpio.

My mind wants to rush to what happened with Bane, but I don’t let it.

It’s the symbol and my powers I need to be thinking about, I tell myself. What the hell does the symbol have to do with anything? And what do the sparks mean? Can they even mean anything else but being able to control electricity?

Or thunder, as they’d say in the olden days.

What do you think, I ask my wolf.

There’s the image of her flickering before me and there’s the presence telling me she’s here with me, but she’s not saying anything.

She’s sticking with her decision of making everything so much more difficult for me by not even talking to me, let alone helping me.

Fine. Then I guess I’m on my own in this.

But her silence only makes it impossible for me to keep pushing Bane out of my head.

I just can’t help it, because this — everything that happened tonight — feels so strange, I can’t even begin wrapping my head around it. I pull my knees tighter to myself, I press my lips and I crane my neck to look out the window.

It feels so strange, in fact, that I find myself wondering if it even happened.

I let him go down on me? Or even better, I initiated it? Or better still, I fucking crawled on top of him?

I can’t seem to help it, but it’s proving to be incredibly tough just thinking about it, for two main reasons.

One, because of how weirdly possessive I felt of him. I never get possessive of people.

Two, because of how he behaved. Tonight has made the man even more opaque to me. I mean, I thought I'd already figured him out. And then, well…

I let out a groan. It’s making me cringe even thinking about it, but did he go down on me because he wanted to or…? I don’t even know what other motive he’d have, but there’s one thing I do know — he not only did not try to get some himself, he downright stopped me from giving it to him.

I press my palms into my face, trying to find comfort in complete darkness. Here I thought I had a problem when I was still only starting to fantasize about him.

Outside, the sky is growing lighter, the birds are chirping and I’m even starting to hear the students’ chatter.

The pit of despair in my chest only grows deeper, when the following question manages to grab my attention — why and how did being with him like that feel better than anything I’ve ever experienced before?

Gods, I’ve never felt desire so powerful, deeper than just physical.

That’s probably just what it’s like for a shifter, right?

Of course it is. Why would it be different for me than it is for anyone else?

Just the possibility that I’m developing actual feelings for this man, it keeps me alert well after the sun rises.

It’s only once my stomach starts rumbling that I get up. Enough is enough, I tell myself.

As if waking from a dream, I come to stand in front of the window. I definitely need to figure out what happened to me with Bane tonight, but I’ve managed to mess everything else up as well.

I’ve had enough of all my crap.

First, I need to go back to being a decent living being and find Raven so I can give her the apology that I’ve owed her for the last two weeks.

***

It’s in the cafeteria that I find the two of them. I stop as soon as I spot them, but I don’t let myself linger on the shame.

I take a deep breath and walk right over to them. It throws me off a little, when Alaric stops talking, Raven puts her spoon down and they both look up to stare at me.

I let out an awkward laugh. “I just thought you looked too happy and needed to see someone you hate, you know, to balance things out.”

I want to slap myself for being such an idiot, but then I see Raven turn to Alaric with confusion on her face. “Is this sarcasm, Alaric?”

Alaric just presses his lips tight, throws daggers at me and says, “I don’t think I care what it is, not after what she did to you.”

I open my mouth to say I understand, only to have Raven beat me to it. “Alaric,” she tells him with a frown, “I think I already told you that she didn’t mean to hurt me.”

It all throws me off. It’s so subtle, just like she is, but this is the angriest I’ve ever seen her.

“In fact,” she continues as she throws a hesitant glance at me, “it could be said she was protecting herself from me.”

“What do you mean?” Alaric demands.

There’s a moment of silence during which Alaric just frowns at the two of us and my mind buzzes in fear that she’ll be going into more detail about what happened.

She doesn’t. “It doesn’t matter,” she says in a firm voice. “I think we should all just move on.”

Alaric doesn't seem to agree, at least judging by the way he looks at me. Neither do I for that matter.

I throw myself into the chair opposite to them and I let everything pour out of me. “Look,” I start, fixing my eyes on Raven and not letting her look away, “I’m sorry. Whatever happened back there, Raven, I still ended up hurting you. I honestly don’t know what’s going on with me, but whatever it is, it’s no excuse for any of my actions. I’ve already started working on fixing it and I’ll keep working on it until I’m no longer a threat to anyone around me. So if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I’d be eternally grateful to you.”

I let out a heavy breath and lean back in the chair, waiting for the reaction.

“Of course I forgive you, Anna,” Raven says in a soft voice.

It makes me warm around the heart, the look she’s throwing me. “Thanks,” I force myself to articulate it. “You don’t know how much that means to me.” I get up. “I'll be leaving you to it,” I say as I give them both a smile.

I'm already turning around when I hear Alaric start, “I mean…”

I turn to look at him, seeing his features softened a little.

“You don't have to leave.”

Raven nods. “Stay, Anna.” She pauses a little before she says, “Unless you don't want to hang out with us.”

“Of course I do,” I reply with a frown. “Why would you say that?”

Alaric lets out a laugh. “It's not like you ever share anything with us.”

I frown. “What the hell are you talking about? I share plenty with you.”

“Yeah,” Alaric mumbles with an awkward shake of his head, “we don’t know a single thing about you.”

“Well,” I reply with a frown, “there’s a lot I don’t know about you, either.”

“Like what?” he asks.

I look at him incredulously, then take a seat. “Well, it was only last time I saw you that I found out you weren't powerless.”

“You never asked,” he says simply. “That's another thing. You never ask anything but the most superficial stuff.”

Well, maybe I don't want to be asked anything but the most superficial stuff. This, however, I keep to myself. “Doesn't mean I don't want to know,” I say with a sorry look in my eyes. “Would you tell me? Why you choose not to use your powers.”

To my surprise, he looks at me for a second then blows a soft laugh through his nose. “I mean, we’ve got so much power and look how we use it.”

“How?”

He hesitates for a moment. “Look, Anna,” he starts with this seriousness in his voice that I’ve never heard before. “Biologically, I’m twenty six years old, but it was in 1921 that I was born.”

What the… I glance at Raven, but she already seems to know all this.

“My family, the Siegers,” Alaric keeps going, visibly ashamed, “they were at the height of their power during the Second World War.” The way he says it makes it very clear to me which side they were on. Not the good one. “And they did horrible things, Anna.”

I throw him a sympathetic look. “I understand that that would make you cynical,” I say quietly.

He lets out a bitter laugh. “Not even family meant anything to those people. When the war ended and it was clear they’d lose everything, they went into hibernation and forced me into one as well.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Damn.”

“We only woke up a couple of years ago, and now they’re rotting in prison, as they should be, but it doesn’t make it any better, you know?”

“I know,” I whisper, trying to communicate with my eyes exactly how much I’m sorry for all that he’s been through.

“And that’s why I choose not to use my magic.” He shifts in his seat awkwardly and it makes me realize he’s had enough of vulnerability for one day, so I choose to lighten things up for him a little.

“Alright. You said you knew nothing about me,” I start with a smile. It encourages me when both him and Raven lean a little forward with interest in their eyes. “Well, my favorite color is green, my favorite food nachos, I hate people who scribble their shit in books they don’t own, but I also kind of like it…”

Raven just blinks at me, but Alaric laughs. “Ooh,” he cuts in with a spark in his eyes as he slides his forearms down the table. “I’ve got a question for you. Would you rather be forced to eat a gerbil plant,” he starts in a low, excited voice, “or have someone spike your drink with blood gin…” He pauses, building tension as his eyes sweep over the two of us. “Just as you’re about to have a chat with the Pied Piper?”

“What kind of non-question is that?” I protest with a laugh. “I’d eat a dozen gerbil plants voluntarily and risk all the grueling consequences before ever embarrassing myself in front of Johanna de Groot.”

As the two of us laugh our asses off, I notice Raven still has a serious look on her face.

It’s sobering. I clear my throat. “Actually, you two,” I start in a somber voice, making Alaric’s smile slide off as well, “there is something I’d like to talk to you about.”

I decide to just tell them about everything that happened. Not everything, obviously, but everything except the vision and the incident between me and Bane.

***

“What do you think?” I ask when I finish recapping my experiences. I don’t say it, of course, but I’m first and foremost thinking of the matter of my feelings for Bane. “It’s not supposed to be this hard and definitely not this weird, right?”

Raven blinks and Alaric leans back in his chair, thinking. “It is strange,” he says. “I mean, for you to complete a ritual before ever having shifted…” He scratches his beard, frowning.

I turn to Raven. “Raven?”

She shakes her head. “I am sorry, Anna. I just never had the need to do rituals. I am simply… connected with the constellations as is.”

“Do you think there’s something wrong with me?” I insist. “I mean, there has to be. Right?”

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much,” Alaric replies with a wave of dismissal. “These things, they’re so individual…”

Then it occurs to me. “There was this thing Bane made me drink before we started. Could that be to blame for all the weirdness?”

“Did it have a metallic taste?” Raven asks.

“Yes,” I answer with hope in my voice.

She shakes her head. “That is what shifters routinely take to help them establish a connection with the stars.”

“What about him being an alpha?” I keep insisting. “Could that have messed with my brain somehow?”

“Why are you hung up on it being about him?” Alaric cuts in.

I just shake my head at him, eager to turn my focus back onto Raven.

She takes a moment to think before she says, “I suppose the possibility of him having influenced you into pushing too hard can’t be dismissed.”

My lips curl into a smile.

“I think you should get some more sleep, Anna,” I hear Alaric say, “and think about it tomorrow.”

I nod, but I’m busy being flooded with relief. It was his influence and not any actual feelings of mine after all. Everything’s okay with me.

And it’ll stay that way. I’ll make sure not to have any contact with Bane from now on, I’ll keep working at the Library and I’ll do everything in my power to pass the first-term exam.

Chapter 20

We all gather in the Main Hall. They’ve cleared it out for the exam, probably because no other hall in the castle can hold all first-year shifter students.

Everyone seems to be chatting as if this is yet another class we’ll be having. But there’s an obstacle course stretching from the entrance all the way to the back. We’re standing in two lines, one on each side of the course. On my side, the line is broken by the desk where Professor Ahearn will be sitting, observing us as we take the exam.

I keep waiting, barely registering the chatter all around me. What have I done with my time since completing the ritual? I’m more fit because I’ve been hitting the gym a lot. I feel much stronger, physically at least. My senses are now consistently slightly sharper. I can make little sparks start shooting out of my fingers.

But that’s about it. I still have no actual, usable powers. Being able to talk to my wolf has gotten me no closer to shifting, that’s for sure.

Laughter drifts up to me, and I don’t turn to look at the students making the noise, but I do listen to them cracking jokes about their professors.

So carefree, at least that’s what they seem from my perspective. To most of them, passing this exam will be a piece of cake.

But I can’t let myself get defeated before I’ve even tried.

I throw a glance at Raven, who’s all the way on the other side of the hall. My sight having gotten better, I can clearly see her giving me a smile.

I smile back, hyping myself up.

The hall goes silent and I turn to look in the direction of the archway, seeing none other than Bane saunter in.

I frown, my heart starting to race merely from looking at him. Where’s Professor Ahearn?

“Morning, everyone,” his voice booms across the hall as he makes his way to the desk where she’s supposed to be sitting. “Your Professor Ahearn’s been detained,” he explains, “so I’ll be the one conducting the exam today.”

Damn it, I think as the other students start cheering. I don’t think he’ll necessarily be making this any harder for me on purpose. After all, he did help me get my first gift.

However, I no longer know how to behave around him, and it’s with more than good reason that I’ve been avoiding him for the past week.

What am I supposed to do now?

I watch him take a seat with a smirk on his face, his eyes sweeping the room.

They never land on mine.

I tear my gaze away from him, confused and only partly relieved.

“Why don’t we get started?” his voice booms once again, the way it seems to echo through me making me grit my teeth in annoyance.

***

I take deep breaths until I no longer feel so annoyed. But I’m watching the other students go through the obstacle course, Bane chatting with Professor Ahearn’s assistant and lifting green cards whenever someone passes. They’re all so good, only one person gets a red one. So I’m finding it hard to hype myself up for a win.

When it’s my turn, and I walk up to the first obstacle — the wall with the hidden spikes…

I can’t force myself to stop staring at it and fucking move.

“Yes, Miss Novak?” I hear Bane’s smirking voice boom from behind me. “Need a pep talk or what?”

I grit my teeth, but I finally get moving.

Here we go — the moment that will decide my future for the next year and a half. I take a deep breath and I move to start climbing, all my muscles tense in anticipation of the first spike to shoot out.

It surprises me, how easily I push myself up. There’s such strength in my arms, and my reflexes are better than ever before, so when the wall finally fires the first spike, I just let go of one of the hand holds, avoiding the impact as my core muscles keep me hanging with ease.

I breathe a sigh of relief, my lips curling into a smile. With just as little effort, I grab onto the hand hold again and keep climbing.

I avoid another spike. And another one. And another one.

It’s making me feel uncomfortable, the thought that he can see me doing this, but before I know it, I’m over the first obstacle and onto the next, this thrill coursing through me as I notice the absence of sniggers around me.

I pass the second obstacle and move on to the third — a pit filled with spikes pointing upwards.

Holy shit, am I actually going to pass this exam, I think as I prepare to jump.

Then I hear Bane let out a laugh and say, “Well well, aren’t you a clever one, Ingrid?”

It throws me off.

Just shrug it off, I tell myself. I take a deep breath and move to jump over the pit, but the second I lunge into the air, I feel my strength abandon me and I start falling.

Instinct kicks in and I spread my arms and legs so I catch onto the edges of the pit.

But now, I’m barely holding on and I can feel one of the spikes digging into my skin just above my belly button. It’s so hard keeping myself from falling. I feel the presence of my wolf, but she doesn’t do anything.

No, I won’t be begging. I have the worst fucking animal ever.

Somehow, clenching all my muscles, I push myself up and back, falling onto the ground on my ass. I’m panting, my skin covered in sweat.

I push myself to my feet and ball my hands into fists. I move to try to get over the pit again.

I will not be doing this again next year.

Before I can lunge over the pit, a blinding light that comes from my own body makes me close my eyes shut and I feel myself being flung backwards, my ears ringing with a sudden, violent sound of things exploding all around me.

When I come to, my ears still ringing and my teeth gritting, I’m lying on the ground and I have to push myself up on my elbows to take a look around.

What the…

There’s silence in the Main Hall, everyone staring at the wasteland that until a second ago was the obstacle course. There’s rubble all around me, and a circle of burnt ground stretching from where I’m lying.

My eyes dart to Bane, who’s watching me intently.

Now everyone else is, too, neither moving a muscle nor making a sound.

The very next second, I hear people starting to shout, argue and talk over each other from all around me.

“What did she just do?” one of the voices rises above the surface.

“Calm,” Bane’s voice booms, silencing them all. “The fuck. Down.”

I push myself up, watching him stare everyone down and feeling on the verge of throwing up.

What’s really worrying me is the feeling of something swelling inside me. Something that’s about to burst.

Before I even realize what I’m doing, I start rushing out of the Main Hall.

“Miss Novak,” I hear Bane call out at the same time I feel Raven trying to catch up with me.

I don’t stop moving, I just wave my arm to make them stop focusing on me.

“What’re the rest of us supposed to do now?” I hear someone demand of the professor.

“I’m moving you to a different location,” he says in a controlled but pissed-off voice, “that’s what we’re doing.”

I don’t hear anything else. I’m out in the Entrance Hall, doing my best to get back to my room as quickly as humanly possible.

Before I even reach the Elevator, just as I’m walking past the Brothers Grimm statue, it grabs ahold of me. I stop, grabbing onto the top step of the pedestal, getting down on my knees and resting my forehead on the cool, smooth stone of the statue itself.

That ‘something’ in me bursts.

The next thing I know, the world around me falls silent, and I hear the knock.

***

There’s a sharp smell of spring in the air, and I’m walking through a blur of people, all looking up at me with smiles on their faces. Their clothes are festive, and there are flowers being tossed into the air, and up ahead, at the end of the path I already see my mother and my father sitting in their chairs, their warm, smiling eyes following me closely.

All the while, the sky above us is growing heavy with clouds, and among the smiling faces around me, there are pairs of eyes throwing me sneaky looks, cold like edges of blades.

I start running, my mother and father’s faces getting lost in the crowd. Now they’re lifting me up, and I’m looking down from high above and I see all the little altars, the metal bowls, the lit candles.

It makes my breath turn shallow, when I realize there’s something missing. There’s not a single spindle anywhere around me.

When I look down, there’s blood on my hands, and the arms are starting to drop me, and I’m falling and falling, hearing a deep, echoing laugh boom from somewhere behind me.

Chapter 21

What is going on with me? I keep glancing at my watch, sitting in my room and letting the hours pass, the bright winter day outside slowly turning into night.

I don’t know if it’s a good idea for me to be around others right now, but I’m feeling stranger than I’ve ever felt — the echoes of my own magic still coursing through me as if they weren’t my own, and it’s all making me so scared, I just can’t stop myself.

I shoot Raven a text for her and Alaric to meet me in the Junkyard. I peel my ass off my bed and I get moving.

I feel palpable feverishness in the air as soon as I step out of my room. Everyone seems to be getting ready for the Ball, but I go straight to the Junkyard, breathing a sigh of relief when I see there’s no one there.

It doesn’t take Raven and Alaric long to show up. They walk into the Junkyard, making me raise my eyebrows when I see them all dressed up.

Damn it, this is supposed to be a fun night for them. I force myself to throw on a smile. “You look amazing, the both of you,” I say with warmth in my voice as they come to stand in front of me.

Raven tilts her head at me. “Amazing?” She turns to throw a confused look at Alaric. “I look exactly the same, don’t I, Alaric?”

He gives her a tender, slightly awkward smile as he runs his hand through his hair. “Yes and no.” Then he turns to me. “Look, Anna, Raven told me all about what happened at the exam.”

The smile slides off my face.

“And you passed?” He shakes his head as if he’s impressed. “They’re saying the professors have decided that destroying the course equals passing it. Wow.”

I myself can’t feel happy about that part. It doesn’t seem fair, that they did let me pass.

“How did you do it, Anna?” Raven asks.

“Sorry to disappoint, I’ve no idea what that was.” Maybe it was a bad idea, to make them come here and to sour the mood for them.

Raven comes to pat me on the shoulder. It’s so awkward, the way she does it, but at the same time, so sincere. It makes me throw her a sad smile. I look away, saying, “I don’t know what’s going on with me, Raven.”

She stays silent for a second. “From what I can gather,” she replies in a voice that’s barely above a whisper, “no one ever does, at least not in the moment.”

“Yeah, but…” And I break off, not knowing how to put it into words, what’s really going on with me.

Raven shifts a little. “I don’t know if this is the right time for me to tell you, Anna…”

It makes me frown. I turn to look at her. “What? Tell me.”

She throws a glance at Alaric. “When you injured me that time, the tattoos that appeared on you looked less complete than the ones that appeared today.”

I frown, opening my mouth.

Alaric beats me to it. “Tattoos? You mean shifter marks?”

Raven shakes her head. “Different. Repeating pattern, all circles and lines.”

That’s strange. Should I tell them about the things I’ve seen ever since I touched the Lexarcanum book?

Alaric seems to be thinking, too, reaching his hand into his bag to rummage pensively.

There’s this guilt washing over me that I can’t quite explain, the same as that night I found myself wading into the river. It's as if I did something wrong and if I told anyone about it, I’d only be opening up a can of worms I’d rather stay closed. I decide not to say anything after all.

It snaps me out of it, when Alaric gets a book out and opens it right in front of my face. My eyebrows shoot up when I see it’s that book he found in the Junkyard that day. The history of Pull Chambers.

On the page he has it open on, there is an ancient-looking drawing. A circle of symbols done in dark brown ink, revolving around the one at the center.

My eyes round when I see it.

The symbol.

I’m in even bigger shock when I spot the background. Faint pattern of circles and lines.

I look up at him with my eyebrows raised.

“Raven,” he starts just as she leans in to take a look as well. ”Are these her tattoos?”

Raven nods.

What the… “What does this mean?” I ask as I look up at them.

“I don’t know,” Alaric says simply. No jokes, no sarcasm. Just plain ‘I don’t know’.

It makes me more afraid than the thing itself. I grab the book and start leafing it, but it doesn’t seem like the rest has anything to do with the drawing.

I lean to take a whiff of it. It’s by some kind of magic it’s been put here.

I shake my head and take a deep breath. “It’s fine,” I tell the two of them when I look up and see the concern in their eyes. “Just leave this with me and go have fun, please.” Leave and preferably forget all about me, I think to myself.

“No,” Raven says with determination in her voice, “we’re not doing that, Anna.”

“I think you need to have some fun, too,” Alaric chimes in.

“Should we play a game?” Raven asks.

“No, silly,” he replies with a laugh. “It’s the Ball I’m talking about.”

“The Ball?” I ask, frowning. But the very thought is so absurd, at least it bursts the self-pity bubble a little. “Are you kidding me? It’s the last thing I want to do right now." Smiling, I roll my eyes. "Go to the Ball.”

“Anna, you’re coming to the Ball with us,” Raven says firmly. Alaric nudges her to add, “And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

For a second, I just look at her. It's already decided, though. She’s never asked anything of me and I’m not going to say no to her. “Alright,” I concede with a smile. “Let’s go.”

I get up and move to lead the way to the Main Hall.

“Oh you’re not coming dressed like that,” Alaric stops me, dragging his eyes down my outfit.

“I need to lay low, Alaric,” I tell him. “This is the way I dress and I can’t be attracting any attention after everything that happened today.”

He winces. “We’re about to enter a hall crammed with people in suits and gowns. I think it’s your hoodie that will be attracting attention.”

As much as I want to protest, he’s got a point. “Fine,” I say with a sigh. “Give me ten minutes and meet me in the Entrance Hall.”

Raven nods contently, while Alaric throws me the biggest grin. “Party,” he bellows.

***

The Main Hall looks like a crystal forest with the icicles hanging from the ceilings and the snow covering the floor. There are bars and booths lining the walls to our left and right, a stage with the musicians across from us and the dance floor taking up the rest of the space, interspersed with high tables designed to look like crystal trees.

As soon as we step in, I see that Alaric was right. Even in my little black dress and high-heel boots, the people gathered here are all more dressed up than I am.

Unfortunately, the outfit doesn’t make me blend in more than my hoodie would have.

My stomach drops when I notice the glances that some of the people are throwing me, followed by rushed whispers.

I guess this is about the incident at the exam.

“Word sure spreads quickly,” I tell my friends as I nudge them to keep walking.

Trying to shrug it off doesn’t seem to help. Now the crowd seems to be parting around me, the glances and the whispers even more insistent.

What really rubs me the wrong way is my friends looking at me with sad eyes.

I just can’t bear to be the recipient of such looks, or let myself become the reason they end up not having fun.

“Why don’t the two of you have a dance?” I ask them, motioning at the dancing floor.

They look at each other, and I see the hesitation in their eyes.

“Go on,” I urge them, forcing myself to smile, “it’ll cheer me up, seeing you have fun.”

“Dance we shall then,” Alaric says. Raven gives him her hand and they walk away, blending in with the other dancers.

I grab a shot glass off a waiter’s tray and I come a little closer, ignoring the movement of the people around me.

This is nothing you haven’t suffered through before, I tell myself.

Still, all my muscles tense up, when I see Serra and Lorcan standing in a small group of professors just outside the dancing floor, staring at me. They both look tense, Serra even sicklier than usual, an entire strand of gray hair now swept off her face.

As soon as our eyes meet, they look away, but it’s so obvious it was me they were talking about.

Suddenly feeling too exposed for my tastes, I toss the shot back and get moving, not knowing exactly where I’m going, just eager to get out of their line of sight.

My phone vibrates and I check my messages, only to see it’s one of those automated emails from the main Academy account, which I’m still receiving simply because no one remembered to remove me from the list.

It makes me frown, when I see which type of email it is. Someone’s been granted the permission to use the Pull. Tonight at 2AM.

That’s unusual. These emails we get only when it’s neither the faculty nor one of the students asking for permission. And everyone outside the Academy who’s supposed to be here, they’ll be leaving way before 2AM.

It snaps me out of my ruminations, when I hear a voice that instantly makes my heart start racing. His voice. I see I’m headed straight for a large group of people all gathered around him. I slow down. It’s not just students and professors this time. He seems to be attracting all the political and social elite that’s been invited, looking hot as hell in a dark suit without a tie.

“Isn’t that—” I hear some woman on the margins of the group say just as I lock eyes with her.

She instantly zips it, only confirming the hunch that she really was pointing at me.

I don’t care, but what actually does sting a little is that I see some people I do know in that group. None of them even acknowledge me.

I turn around and start in the opposite direction. I’m loathing the attention, but there’s one upside to this at least — no elbowing through crowds.

Gods, why is everything in my life so complicated that — for whatever reasons — I need to avoid literally everyone I know?

Sadness floods me again, only punctuated by the yearning to forget everything that’s happened to me these past months. Oblivion, I’m in dire need of oblivion, I think as I grab another shot off a passing waiter’s tray. But when you don’t have it in you to have fun, drinking only makes the sadness worse.

Just as I start contemplating going back to my room, I feel a need to look over my shoulder and my eyes land on Bane’s as he makes his way through the dancers.

Straight towards the empty circle around me.

Goddamnit.

I fix my eyes back ahead and pick up my pace, looking around for someplace to hide.

The fact that he’s looking for me right now — it can only mean one thing. He’ll want to have some super intense discussion about the incident at the exam, demanding explanations that I just cannot give. Even if I could, I just don’t have it in me to give them.

“Oh come on,” I hear him tease even before he comes to block my way, “literally running away from me?”

Great.

“Desperate times,” I say with a cordial smile.

“You don’t look like you couldn’t spare a minute,” he replies as he points at the shot in my hand.

I glance around nervously, catching a couple of stares from the group he’s just left. Ugh. I really can’t do this today. “Maybe later.”

He squints at me, craning his neck to follow my gaze. Then there’s that already familiar spark in his eyes. A smile tugs at his lips. “You know,” he starts, raising his voice quite a bit and already turning even more heads, “you shouldn’t beat yourself up about it so much, Miss Novak.”

It’s like he’s in my damn head.

“Look,” I reply amicably, determined to cut this as short as possible, “I really don’t know what happened today, so...”

His eyebrows shoot up. “Is that really what you’re so worked up about?” To my surprise, he shrugs. “So you blew up some gym equipment. I think we’ll all find it in ourselves to move on.”

I throw him a suspicious look.

He laughs. “Come on, show me where I can get one of those,” he says, pointing at the glass in my hand again. “Or better yet, help me find some good scotch.”

Now it’s making me angry, that he’s choosing to be so casual with me after everything.

“Let me rephrase,” I start in a noticeably colder voice, “it doesn’t matter why you came to talk to me.” My jaw clenches remembering the way he threw me over his shoulder. “I don’t want to talk to you, period.”

He quirks an eyebrow at me. “And with so much passion at that. I can be nothing but flattered.”

I just stare at him, gritting my teeth.

“What?” he asks.

I let out a scoff. “Don’t play dumb,” I tell him. I stop myself before saying anything too specific. “You’re my professor, you’re an alpha, and you took advantage of my moment of vulnerability.”

Something flashes through his eyes. “You know,” he says as he takes a step closer, “I’d definitely get seriously offended… if it weren’t for the fact you don’t even believe that yourself.”

For a second, I just stare at him. Then I fold my arms and say, “You have no insight whatsoever into what I do or don’t believe. You don’t know me.”

“Come on,” he sneers as he throws a glance around the hall, “I’m barely two years older than you, I’m as much an authority figure to you as you are to fucking MacArthur, and I think it’s pretty obvious by now — alpha or not — I couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to even if I tried.” His eyes narrow. “But I do know what this is about.”

“What?” I ask with a roll of my eyes, surprised that I’m secretly fearing he’ll accuse me of having feelings for him.

He gets in my face, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You just can’t stand that you’re attracted to me.”

I blow out a laugh. “You can say that again.”

“So you admit that you are,” he insists, his voice low and his eyes diving into mine in that way that makes me feel completely naked.

But this, I could’ve admitted this on day one, no problem. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” I snap. “Oh…” My lips tug into a smile. “Because my having a hard time admitting that, it would mean I’m playing hard to get or something, right? When in fact…” I lean a little forward, the smile sliding off my face. “I just see you.”

There’s a split second during which he stays serious. Then he lets out a laugh. “Yeah yeah,” he says with a dismissive wave of his hand. “And you don’t like what you see, you’ve made that abundantly clear, Novak.”

It all makes me frown, but he goes and takes me even more by surprise, a spark in his eyes as he says, “But that doesn’t mean you can’t ditch this stuffy party with me.”

Frowning, I let out a scoff. “Ditch the second biggest event of the year to spend time with the number one asshole?” I pretend to consider it, but it’s in an obviously mocking voice that I say, “Let me get back to you on that.”

“Sorry,” he starts before I can push past him, throwing me a grin, “I stopped listening after you said ‘number one’.”

“The only shocking thing about that is you saying ‘sorry’.”

He blows a laugh and leans to whisper in my ear, “But it does seem to be a unique moment, don’t you think? Everyone at the Academy is gathered in a single place, right?”

“Right,” I say a little breathlessly as his proximity keeps me pinned in place.

When he pulls away to look at me, there’s that spark in his eyes and this contagious mysteriousness in his voice that I’ve never heard before. “Which means there’s probably not a soul on the entire grounds.”

When I just keep looking at him, feeling torn because I actually want to go… “Come on, help the asshole out,” he says with a grin. “No one’s ever given me an actual tour.”

My eyebrows pull down, but I find myself unable to resist. “Alright,” I say, “but we’re going out separately.”

***

By the time I’ve shown Bane everything I find interesting in the gardens, we’re stopping near the Dame Gothel statue and I’m finding the whole thing — spending time with him in a way that’s a little strained but definitely pleasant — so strange that it’s keeping me feeling disoriented.

“I knew you were a giant nerd, Novak,” he snaps me out of it, “but how exactly have you come to know this much about the Academy?”

He’s looking at me with a teasing smile, only making my confusion grow. But I guess it would be a good time to say bye and go back to the party. I smile back and say, “Sorry to disappoint, but the nerd’s not taking any more questions. The tour is drawing to an end.”

“Very unhelpful,” he quips with a shake of his head. “I’ll leave you a scalding review.”

“I’ll take my chances,” I reply, glancing first at my watch and then in the direction of the castle. “Don’t want my friends to worry.”

I move to start getting back, but he comes to block my way, squinting. “I’m sure Sieger and Raven will live,” he says, my eyebrows pulling down at the fact that he knows their names. “Besides…” His eyes sweep over the grounds with that spark in them, lingering on the Wall stretching in the distance before he turns his focus back onto me. “This tour of yours was a tad limited for my tastes. But if we went for a run…”

I feel a sudden, violent flutter of excitement at those words. “A run?” I echo. I’m frowning, but the thought is so unambiguously appealing, especially to my wolf, that I’m already on the verge of saying yes, despite the party, my high heels, who I’d be going on a run with...

But then he says, “Yeah, you can ride my fox so we can both explore the borders.”

What the... The flutters in my stomach appear again, but now they’re flutters of sheer terror.

“Who knows?” he keeps going, but I’m busy processing what he’s actually suggesting. “It might even help your dismal progress with shifting.”

Now, for a host of reasons I’m not even fully aware of, I’m feeling such burning discomfort at the very thought. “I don’t see how it would.”

“Come on, you think I didn’t see that spark in your eyes, Novak,” he insists. “You know, part of being a shifter is taking what you want in the moment.”

“Yeah, that’s a hard no,” I rush to say, one scenario in particular haunting me — me falling on my ass somewhere and him seeing the granny panties I’ve made the mistake of wearing tonight.

“What, scared you’d see me naked?” he asks as he flips the lapel of his jacket inside out, showing me that it’s Second Skin, enchanted to stay on his human form even when he shifts.

“I couldn’t care less,” I reply, a touch of aggression in my voice, “I just think I’ve been out long enough.”

I move to push past him.

He doesn’t let me. “Why so defensive?”

“I’m not.”

He squints at me, this smile tugging at his lips. “You know, this could be as simple as you telling me what you’d need to be comfortable.”

With an exaggerated roll of my eyes and a helpless sweep of my hands, I glance down at my outfit.

He laughs. “How about this?” he asks as he drags his eyes down my body, making blood rush to my face. “Ditch the heels, you yourself won’t be doing any actual running anyway. As for the dress…” He looks up to lock eyes with me. “If it comes to it, I promise I won’t look. Anything else?”

“No,” I find myself saying, feeling reassured albeit still a little hesitant.

“Alright,” he replies with a smile that’s making me think he didn’t really expect me to say yes.

Then he just looks at me for a second, thinking. “Um,” he starts, running a hand through his hair, “just to give you a heads up.” And he looks away, hesitating a little.

I frown. Is he being… awkward?

“My fox, um,” he continues as he turns his eyes back onto me, “he’ll want to smell you.” Gods, he is being awkward. “You know how it goes, but if you think there’s a chance you’d get scared or something—”

“No,” I cut him off with a reassuring smile, feeling strangely endeared. “That’s fine.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright then,” he concludes with a grin.

Before I have time to process what I’ve just agreed to do, I find myself watching him take long strides backwards. Then he stops, making my breath catch in anticipation when I see his body tense up.

The next thing I know, there’s a giant monster fox landing on all fours in front me, pinning me in place with those pitch-black, burning eyes.

Gods.

He really did need to put that much distance between us to safely shift. It’s easily the largest animal I’ve ever seen, its fur a deep, burning red, its muscles stiff but visible underneath and its lush tail wagging languidly.

Instantly, my wolf rises to the surface, silent as usual, but more focused than ever. She seems to love the look of him.

Still, it startles me a little — making me shove my animal down — when it gets closer, staring into my eyes for one long moment before taking a series of quick, deep whiffs of me, its nose as big as my head.

I wait, closing my eyes so as not to imagine the maw closing around my neck. I sense it circle me a few times, never stopping with the sniffing.

Then it does.

I feel a soft nudge against my stomach.

I open my eyes, finding the fox bowing its head, offering its neck to me. With surprisingly little hesitation, I kick my heels off, grab onto its fur and throw my leg over, getting comfortable.

The next thing I know, its muscles are tensing up and I’m being lifted off the ground, my stomach doing a flip even before the animal breaks into a sprint, headed straight for the Lycan Forest.

Leaning forward and grabbing on more tightly, I feel the wolf inside me rise to the surface again.

It’s intoxicating, watching the gardens disappear in a blur and darting into the forest with all the scents, sounds and sights around me — the soft shifting of pine needles covering the ground, the age-old trees whizzing past me, the blood pumping through the scurrying animals’ veins.

Before I know it, there’s the north stretch of the Wall appearing through the trees before us — ancient and covered in moss — and it makes my stomach tighten with panic, for the brief second that I think we’ll be crashing straight into it.

Then we go up, up and onto the wall itself, my lungs filling with air and the expanse of the night sky exploding all around me.

Whenever I dare to look down, I see the Academy grounds from a perspective that’s been completely inaccessible to me before now. I want to inspect every last bit of it, but the next thing I know, we’ve made a full circle and the fox is jumping off the Wall and straight onto the barren top of Graf Hill.

Slowly, it comes to a full stop. Catching my breath, I get off and watch Bane shift back with a grin on his face, his skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He walks up to me, still smiling, undoing the top few buttons of his shirt and tugging it loose a little. I’m still a little breathless and under the impression of all that I’ve seen and felt, so I fail to stop my eyes from lingering on the delicious lines of his collarbone.

I return the smile, but I quickly turn my back to him and stroll over to the edge of the cliff, the view once again taking my breath away — the night sky above, the Wall all around and the grounds below, with the Towers and the forest and the shimmering lake.

“You know,” I say with a persistent smile on my face as I sense him come to stand next to me, “the only reason students ever come here is to mess with each other.”

“Mess with each other how?”

I shrug. “They’ll tie some poor freshman up and leave him overnight, pretending they’ll never come back for him. Stuff like that.”

He laughs. “That’s pretty tame.”

“I guess it is,” I reply, turning a little pensive. “Still, a shame, because it really is beautiful.”

I feel his eyes on my profile. “I don’t think ‘beautiful’ is a strong enough word.”

I turn to give his shoulder a shove with my fist. “Look at you, getting all sappy.”

His phone starts ringing, and it’s such an out-of-place sound that it makes me snap out of it.

He takes it out of his pocket, glances at the screen and puts it back.

“Go ahead,” I insist, “take it. It’s getting late anyway.” And I move to walk away, stopping midstep when I realize what I’m doing.

His eyes still catch the movement. He lets out a laugh. “Are you so eager to get away from me that you’re prepared to fling yourself off a cliff?”

I smile from ear to ear. “Maybe not that eager.”

“Come on, let’s go,” he says, his eyes wandering over to the grounds below us. “That lake, with all its shimmering, it needs to have rocks thrown into it.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “Needs to, really?”

“What?” he asks with a defensive shrug. “I’m a fox shifter. Sometimes, what I need to do is punish water for being the way it is.”

“And what is that?” I demand with a growing smile.

He turns to squint at the lake. “Don’t know. Can’t explain. But infuriating for sure.”

Laughter bubbles up my throat, and the next thing I know, he’s throwing me a playful scowl and shifting, his fox coming to bow its head so I can get on top.

***

The drooping branches of the willows behind my back are slowly swaying in the cold night breeze. We’re sitting on the plateau stretching along the Sobbing Lake, our legs hanging off the edge of the weathered, musty wooden boards, Bane skipping rocks over the glimmering surface of the water.

I guess it wasn’t strange enough that I had fun talking to him. Now we’re sitting in silence that’s not awkward in the slightest. This night is getting weirder by the second.

Leave, now, I urge myself, before it turns sour somehow. But I don’t want to. I want to keep talking to him. There’s something in particular that I want to talk about.

“So,” he starts with another flick of his wrist in the direction of the water, followed by the rock hopping over its surface. “Any curious little facts about the lake?”

“It’s a wolf,” I say before I even give it a second thought.

“Ah, the lake is a wolf?” he says with a pensive nod. “Well, you learn something new every day, I guess.”

I blow a laugh through my nose. “My animal, she’s a wolf.”

“Yeah, I know,” he says, turning to me with a smile, putting the rocks in his hand down.

I frown. “How?”

“It’ll start happening for you too, at some point, but I don’t need to see other shifters in their shifted form to be able to tell,” he explains. “You were the exception, probably because you had practically no connection with your animal. Until that night in the forest at least.” There’s a moment of tense silence before he rushes to add in a teasing voice, “Very predictable of you, by the way, to turn out to be a wolf.”

I laugh.

“But,” he continues, with this caution in his voice, “to be fair, what I saw today at the gym…”

“I thought you said ‘you’d all find it in yourselves to move on,’” I protest.

He shrugs. “I did.” He pauses for a second before he says, “Doesn’t mean it’s not a problem for you. Especially since those weren’t exactly your typical shifter marks.”

I hesitate a little. “It’s…” I shake my head. “I don’t know what happened. I guess I lost control.”

“You did,” he says with a nod. “Spectacularly, if I might add.”

It makes the sting of guilt rise to the surface. “Being a shifter,” I start as I fix my eyes on the lake. “It’s hard for me, but not because I’m generally stuck up,” I say, referring to what he told me that one time. “I have a problem with anger in particular. I don’t seem to want to let myself feel it. It’s such an ugly emotion.”

There’s a moment of silence before he says, “You know, you can’t pick and choose.” He pauses before he adds, “At the risk of sounding preachy… to gain control, you first need to lose control.”

I let out a scoff. “Yeah, in this case at least, I don’t think I’ll be taking any advice from someone like you.”

“Someone like me,” he echoes. He turns at the waist, lifting his leg and laying it flat on the plateau to face me, his eyes fixing me in place. “Alright, smartass, let me have it. Let it all out.”

I squint at him. Then I shrug. “You’re the embodiment of everything that’s wrong with this world,” I say flatly.

“Wow,” he drawls, his eyebrows raising. “Please don’t feel like you have to be gentle with me.”

“You started it,” I protest.

He just looks at me for a second. “And I guess I’ll be a big enough masochist to ask you to finish it,” he replies with a laugh. “Please, how can a single person even be what you’re making me out to be?”

“Let’s see,” I mutter, tapping a finger on my chin. “You’re an alpha without a pack—”

“So you’d be fine with someone forcing you into a life you don’t want for yourself?”

“Alright,” I concede, but that only brings me to my second point. “You’re a professor who’s not even trying to teach the kids, let alone be a good role model—”

He cuts me off with a scoff. “Well sorry for not wanting to play at kindergarten with a bunch of sheltered, privileged little pricks.”

“If that’s what you think of all this,” I demand with a frown, “then why are you even here?”

“Maybe I needed a change of scenery,” he starts reciting with a shrug, “maybe running a business has become less challenging, maybe there were certain external pressures…” He leans a little forward, his eyes narrowing at me. “Or maybe I was just in need of a smartass grilling me about my life choices.”

“Cute,” I say flatly. “But I’m not done. Because you’re not just a packless alpha or a shitty professor. Your little gambling enterprise is literally based on exploiting people’s weaknesses. As you yourself once said, ‘if we’re not targeting vulnerable individuals, what are we even doing?’”

“You remember that?” he asks with a smirk.

“I have an outstanding memory, so if you don't want me to remember you saying something…” I give him a flat glare. “I suggest you don't say it.”

He blows a laugh, then shakes his head. “How naive are you, Novak?” he asks with a smile. “Exploiting people’s weaknesses, that’s what all business is. Mine’s far from the worst. At least it’s not selling candy-shaped poison to kids or pricey snake oil to sick people. It’s selling a real possibility of getting rich to adults who know exactly what they’re getting into.”

I don’t like it, how his words are getting to me. “Yeah… even if that were true, your selfishness goes much beyond that.”

“Careful, you’ll make me feel special.”

I let out a scoff, lifting a hand to start counting. “Looks, strength, dominance, connections, money,” I say forcefully. “It’s basically every type of power a person can even have. Unlike the vast majority of people, you don’t just have one or a few, you have them all. And what do you do with them? The world is practically going up in flames all around you and you, you busy yourself amassing a kind of wealth no single person would ever even have a need for.”

When he only keeps looking at me with this unperturbed curiosity in his eyes, I stare him down, gritting out, “So yeah, as I said, you’re the very embodiment of this world’s casual immorality.”

To my surprise, he lets out a laugh.

“What?” I demand.

“I’m just happy to finally see you get caught in that little trap of yours,” he says with a smirk, leaning in to explain, “This is not an i-mmoral world, Novak, it’s an a-moral one, entirely indifferent to anything we do. Which is why it doesn’t matter what you do, good or bad, when in the end, all it ever comes down to is survival.”

The words make my own doubts rise to the surface, but I shrug them off. “That’s a ridiculous way of seeing things.”

“Is it?” he groans.

“Yeah,” I insist. “It’s one of those things that sound cool, deep and true, when in fact they’re just a cowardly cover-up for avoiding responsibility. That’s the main difference between us, why we’ll never be able to see eye to eye. So we can just drop it.”

Now, for some reason, that last bit makes anger flash through his eyes.

He just stares at me for a second.

“You know,” he starts, his tone rigid, “there was this guy I used to know.”

Anticipation takes my breath away, when I realize he’s about to give me a glimpse, however marginal, into his life.

“He was an actual bad guy,” he keeps saying forcefully, not taking his eyes off me. “Part of one of the more infamous còmhlans, which is basically what they call shifter gangs back where I grew up. He did godawful things for the leader of his còmhlan and she showered him with money in return.”

It makes me frown, how far this is from what I’d expected him to talk about.

He shakes his head. “He could buy anything he wanted, but he couldn’t stop letting his addictions ruin his life. There was this violent sadness and self-destructiveness in him that just wouldn’t let up.” His eyes narrow at me. “You’d probably say he was miserable because he wasn’t exactly a good man and it was forever catching up with him.”

Pausing for a second, he continues in a deceptively merry voice. “Then, one day, he left the còmhlan— he needed a lot of help to do it, but he got it. He started living this virtuous life, and three years later, he was found dead in his new shithole of an apartment, killed for escaping the life, along with dozens of people who served as a warning. Now, where’s the moral in that, huh?”

I don’t say anything — it’s obvious he’s not being logical but emotional right now. I just keep looking at him, swallowing around a lump in my throat with this sadness burrowing deep into me at the first ever glimpse into his pain. It’s dark, murky, and so layered, I can’t make anything out.

There’s this overwhelming urge to take it away, making me remember what happened that time Raven touched me. Without really knowing what I’m doing, I find myself lifting my hand to his upper arm.

I see his eyebrows pull down. Still, he lets me touch him. It startles me, when I actually start drawing it all out and into my body. Surprise flashes through his eyes, but he doesn’t pull back.

Until the first slithers of pain flood me, making me have to fight not to wince.

Abruptly, he frowns and grabs my wrist, asking in a low, surprised voice, “What’re you doing?”

My eyes round and my entire body stiffens.

No no no.

***

It comes as such a shock — how naked it makes me feel — that for one long, breathless moment, I just keep looking at him like a deer in headlights, before I break my wrist free and scramble to my feet, moving to start running back to the castle.

He appears in front of me, making me bump into his chest. “I asked what you were doing just now, Novak,” he demands in a low voice as I double back.

No no no, that’s all that’s going through my head. “Nothing,” I breathe out, taking a step back and hoping against all reason that he’ll just forget about this. Right now.

He mirrors me by taking a step forward, his eyes narrowing. “You were hurting yourself.”

I slink back some more. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say, still breathless with surprise.

That only makes him follow me again, shifting his eyes just before he demands, “You changed your name, didn’t you? That’s why I can’t find anything about you.”

I can do nothing but stare at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

It’s harder to lie, now that I’m being pinned in place by his burning gaze. “You’re ruining it,” I say in a despicably small voice.

“Ruining what?”

I let the silence stretch, slowly realizing I was letting myself get carried away with this guy once again. But at least it helps me finally shake off my little deer-in-headlights moment.

I don’t say anything, but I tip my chin up in defiance, pressing my lips tight.

I see a muscle in his jaw jump, but it still startles me, when he grabs me by the wrist and gets in my face. “You need to tell me your real name,” he orders through gritted teeth.

The voice and the eyes, they make the wolf inside me stir and heat settle low in my core, but I keep my cool.

“Sure,” I purr with a smirk curling my lips. “It’s smartass.”

For one long moment, he just stares at me, his jaw still clenching and his nostrils starting to flare.

Then, as if something snaps, he grabs me by the waist and moves for my neck. My breath hitching, I find myself stumbling around the plateau with him, my hands blindly searching his body as his mouth showers these hungry bites on my neck, my shoulders, my collarbone.

My wolf revels in this. Each bite makes the heat in the pit of my stomach grow more frustrating and — still blundering around with him — I start trying to work my hands under his arms so I can take his shirt off and feel his skin against mine.

But he’s pressing himself too tightly to me. My frustration building, I dig my feet into the ground, making him stop moving with me and pushing into his shoulders with my hands to get him to pull away. Grumbling, he gets his nose off my neck and chooses not to waste time with buttons. He just rips his shirt open and moves to grab me again just as my eyes fix on his chest.

I slap his hands away. Gods.

I start touching, sliding my palms up and down the hot skin and the hard muscles tensing underneath, my eyes dropping to the sharp V disappearing under his belt and making my mind go blank.

It’s at that moment that his patience wears off. He grabs my hands, walks me backwards until I’m pressed against a tree and pulls both my wrist over my head, taking them in one hand and pinning them in place.

He buries his face in my neck again, inhaling and biting as his free hand starts squeezing me all over, making the heat between my legs turn wet.

And what I really want is to pay him back for what he’d done to me last time, but I can’t even move my arms, let alone slide my hand into his pants like I want to, that’s how tight he’s holding me.

When he pulls away a little to abuse the other side of my neck, I grab the opportunity to catch his bottom lip between my teeth.

He stiffens and I instantly get what I want, because the next thing I know, he’s letting out a groan, releasing my wrists and grabbing onto my waist as I tug at his lip.

Then, abruptly, his mouth closes over mine, his tongue forcing its way inside. When it touches mine, that first contact sends a violent rush of thrill down my spine, making my arms fly to wrap around his shoulders.

Hungrily, he explores my mouth, stroking and chasing my tongue with his as his hands relentlessly map my body.

For a moment, it all makes me forget about my own agenda. Then, with his tongue still deep in my mouth, I grab onto his shoulder with one hand and slide the other down his crotch, feeling how rock-hard he is as his entire body goes rigid at my touch.

It surprises me, when he breaks the kiss and yanks my hand away, his mouth coming to hover next to my lips. “And what do you think you’re doing?” he asks in a husky voice.

I let out a little laugh. “It’s an intro into getting your pants off,” I whisper into his ear.

“That you have to earn,” he whispers back.

“Earn?” I echo teasingly. “Thought I was just supposed to take what I wanted.”

“Oh you’ll be taking it, smartass,” he says as he lets go of my hand, threads his fingers through my hair and tugs my head back so I’m looking straight into his glazed eyes, “when I say so.”

Draping my arms over his shoulders, I throw him a smirk. “And you are… what exactly? Sir, master?” I quirk an eyebrow suggestively, rubbing myself against him. “Or do you prefer professor?”

His eyes narrow at me. “The longer you use that mouth to talk back,” he warns in a smoldering voice, “the greater your punishment.”

Laughter bubbles up my throat. “Yes,” I snicker, “punish me.”

“Yeah?” he snarls through gritted teeth as he lets go of my hair, one hand still on my waist. It makes my breath catch, when he uses the other one to mercilessly tug the neckline of my dress down, exposing my breast to the cold winter air.

His eyes dart down and I see hunger flash in them, but he quickly collects himself, gripping my waist and locking eyes with me again as he starts lowering his head. “Let’s see how long you keep that smug smile on your face.”

Without breaking eye contact, he opens his mouth and closes it around the already hard nipple, his tongue lightly flicking over. I struggle to keep my smirk on, failing as soon as he starts circling it languidly, one hand tightening around my waist and the other finding its way under my dress and between my legs.

His fingers hook under my panties and yank them to the side, his thumb doing a few slow circles around my clit before the fingers slide into the wetness between my legs and start working. I bite back a moan, but my eyes flutter shut and my fingers dig into the hard muscles of his shoulders.

Gods, there's something about his attention that's so intense, it's making me feel as if I've never been touched before.

He releases my nipple with a wet pop and I feel his breath on my face. “I guess not long after all,” I hear him say in a ragged voice, but I no longer know what he’s talking about. The way his fingers keep pushing in and out of me is rapidly making my mind go blank.

Still, I know it’s some little stab or other so I breathe out, “Asshole.”

I hear a low, hoarse chuckle before he comes to hum into my neck, “Music to my ears.” His fingers up the tempo unbearably, making me start grinding into the heel of his palm, desperate for friction.

When he curls them inside me, putting pressure on that sweet spot and meeting it with his thumb from the other side, it takes mere seconds for me to fall apart in his arms, burying my face in his neck to muffle my cries.

Panting heavily, I only open my eyes when he pulls his hand out. I still have my arms around him and he’s still pressed close to me, but there’s this hungry look in his eyes and a smug smile on his lips as he lifts his fingers to his face to lick them clean.

My wolf loves this, but the smile gets me fuming. Without a second of hesitation, I slide one arm off his shoulder and work the hand between his legs again. But this time, before he can stop me, I’m already stroking the hard bulge under his pants, making him let out a low, pained groan. His mouth searches for mine again as his hands clamp around my waist, his chest heaving.

It’s more languid, the way he’s kissing me now.

But when I unbuckle his belt, give his pants a sharp tug and wrap my fingers around him, starting to slide them up and down the hard length… One of his hands flies off my waist and grabs onto the tree, while his mouth turns brutal on mine, kisses turning into bites and stroking into aggressive suckling of my tongue into his mouth.

Both sides of me — human and animal — revel in it.

Then he’s breaking the kiss, and there’s this low, rushed mumbling against my cheek. I feel his hands grab the backs of my thighs, my hand unwrapping from him as he hoists me up in one quick movement until I have my legs around his hips. He presses me tighter against the tree, locks me in with an arm around my waist and uses the other hand to line himself against me, the contact making me suck in a sharp breath, my spine arching with the now urgent need for him to get inside me.

“This what you wanted, huh?” he grits out.

I nod against his cheek.

“Yeah? I didn’t hear you say please,” he says in a rough, breathless voice, dragging the hot, hard tip up and down my slick, throbbing flesh.

“Please,” I hear myself say, the word turning into a shaky moan when he finally pushes himself inside me, burying his face into my neck on a loud, dragged-out groan.

It feels so good, having him inside me, better than I ever thought it could.

He starts thrusting, feeling the pace out with his entire body tensing up against me, but I’m so heavy with need and I want to make him suffer like he made me suffer, so I start stroking his back, kissing his neck and using my hips to meet his thrusts, until he’s slamming himself inside me, both his breaths and his movements turning more erratic with each moan that escapes my lips.

Just as he starts tensing up as if he’s going to come, he tries to pull out, but I don’t let him. I wrap my legs tighter around him, grind myself against him and take a bite out of his neck.

He lets out a loud grumble, but it’s too late. He’s already coming, a violent shudder coursing through his body and a string of muffled curses leaving his lips. I’m still throbbing with need, but I hum with pleasure when he presses his face into my neck, his chest heaving.

When he pulls out and straightens so he’s towering over me again, there’s a pissed-off look on his face that makes me blink at him with a confused smile curling my lips. He lowers my feet back onto the ground and he stays pressed against me, but he grits out, “Turn around and spread your legs.”

It’s then that I hear something, in the distance, something that makes my ears strain and all my muscles tense up.

The snapping of branches under someone’s feet. My head turns in the direction of the castle.

“Hey,” I hear him demand as he takes my chin in his hand, “eyes on me.”

I push his hand away. “There’s someone there,” I whisper, my eyes searching.

“It’s just some drunk student.” His breath tickles my ear. “And we’re not done here.”

“It doesn’t matter who it is,” I say as I start struggling with getting my dress in order, turning to throw him a scowl. “Don’t be an asshole,” I order, tugging my hem down.

His face turning expressionless, he zips his pants up and goes to grab his jacket off the floor so he can put it over his ripped shirt.

The very next second, I’m turning in the direction of the castle, seeing a figure appear in the darkness before us.

Serra?

She approaches the plateau and stops right in front of it, looking up at the two of us just as Bane comes to stand beside me. There’s this grave look on her face that makes blood curdle in my veins. “Professor Bane, Miss Novak.”

I open my mouth to greet her, already coming up with an excuse for being here with said professor, but she doesn’t wait for a reaction. “If you’d come with me, please,” she says in the most official voice I’ve ever heard her use.

Chapter 22

“Let’s wait until we’re in the Lounge.” That’s what she said when Bane demanded to know what this was all about.

The first look we exchanged after that made me feel as if we had the same thing going through our minds — the incident at the gym earlier today.

With my eyes fixed on her back and in tense silence, I keep following Serra up the stairs with him walking by my side. His entire body seems to be radiating the harsh focus of an alpha, but whenever I throw a glance at him, failing to stop myself from bombarding him with silent questions… I find this calmness in his eyes. It helps ease the worry gnawing at me, the way they seem to be saying it’s too early to get myself this worked up.

The last look I give him is grateful, at least that’s how I hope it comes across.

Just as I do, we enter the Lounge and I see the clock on the wall across from us showing 01:58. My mind rushes to the Pull request and I frown. But the second I see there’s only Lorcan waiting for us here, it all slips my mind.

I come to a stop, turning to look at Serra again. “Now will you tell us what’s going on?”

“Patience, Miss Novak,” she says as she goes to take her own seat at the table. “Have a seat, you two.”

We listen, and the moment we do, there’s this sound followed by so many footsteps echoing against the seventh-floor landing outside.

Then people start filing inside, people I’ve never seen, all looking larger than life. A fae-blooded woman with dark skin and silver dreadlocks, a vampire man in a suit fit for a royal, a shifter man with a skull across half his face, and a dozen more trailing after them, but the rest look more like they’re some kind of assistants.

They’re all wearing the same symbol around their necks. An eye with sun rays shooting out of it. Lorcan’s wearing one, I notice. Even Serra.

In fact, Bane and I are the only ones who aren’t. Frowning, I turn to ask him, “Who are these people?”

“I don’t know,” he replies, obviously not pleased at the fact. It makes me more unsettled than anything else, how grave his voice is and how he’s barely looked at me while saying the words.

All in silence, the people take their seats around the table, the fae-blooded woman taking the one at the front.

She wastes no time on greetings. She clears her throat, takes a stack of photos out of her robe and starts passing it around, saying, “On December 7th, in an abandoned house in Harald, Norway, three people were found dead, killed using an unfamiliar type of magic.”

My eyebrows pull down. It’s that incident they were talking about on TV. I take a look at the photo that finds its way to me. It’s a photo of someone’s face, but it takes me a second to realize that’s what I’m looking at. It’s grim, possibly more than anything I’ve seen so far. The eyes are dead, the skin is grotesquely sagging, and the mouth is drooping in an expression of silent terror.

I notice no one other than Bane and myself is looking at the photos. It makes my frown grow deeper.

“The Authority eventually closed the case,” the woman says, “assigning the incident to a misfiring of Nature Magic.”

There’s a moment of silence during which I feel a dozen pairs of eyes fix on me.

Including the eyes of the fae-blooded woman. “What do you think about it, Miss Novak?” she asks.

My eyebrows shoot up. “Me?” I glance around the table. “Um, what do you mean?”

“Do you think it was a misfiring of Nature Magic?” the woman clarifies, a touch of impatience in her voice.

“Well, I don’t know how it’s relevant,” I say with an awkward laugh, “what I think about it.” I look at Serra when I ask, “Excuse me, but why am I even here? It was made clear to me that, as a part-time Librarian, I will no longer be participating in faculty meetings.”

“This is not a faculty meeting,” the fae-blooded woman cuts me off. “Does the name Baldur mean anything to you?”

“Don’t answer,” I hear Bane say and I turn to look at him only to find him staring at the woman with clear suspicion in his eyes. Then he shifts his focus onto me to explain, “There’s something going on here and you shouldn’t tell them anything until you find out what it is.”

I frown at him, uncomfortably aware of all the eyes on us. I don’t have to say anything. He lets out a scoff, but goes back to being an observer.

“Um,” I say as I turn back to the woman, “of course. He was this powerful vampire the Old Norse tribes thought to be a god.”

The fae-blooded woman nods. “Around eleven centuries ago, just as it was prophesied,” she starts matter-of-factly, “the vampire by the name of Baldur ascended to the throne, soon showing the world his mission was to enslave the Scions and take the Originals’ powers for himself. We don’t know what happened, but he failed in this and got blown to four pieces, each of which landed in a different place. The pieces were all dormant for many hundreds of years…”

It makes me frown. What nonsense is this?

“Until now,” the woman continues, “because we have strong evidence that the Harald incident is actually a byproduct of him waking from an eleven-century long sleep.”

She keeps looking at me. Before I even realize what I’m doing, I let out a laugh. “I’m sorry, who are you? And where’s the Pied Piper?”

“We’re the Order of the Dawn, Miss Novak,” the woman replies as she sweeps her hand around the room. “Our mission, for the last eleven centuries, has been to protect the world in case Baldur ever manages to return.”

“Is this you trying to poach me?” I ask with an awkward laugh. “I’m sad to say I wouldn’t be of any use to you.”

“Actually,” Serra speaks, for the first time since the people showed up, “you’ll be playing a vital role in our efforts.”

Our efforts?

“As the Aurora,” Lorcan says, sounding a lot less smug than usual, “it’s your job to protect the world when it’s in danger like this.”

“Excuse me?” I ask with a frown, sensing Bane tense up next to me.

Is this a dream, I think to myself.

“Have you ever read the Sleeping Beauty, Miss Novak?” the fae-blooded woman asks me.

“Of course I have,” I reply with a shrug. “That’s the Aurora you’re referring to?”

“Yes.”

She looks like someone you don’t want to mess with, but I raise my eyebrows at her. It’s in a mocking voice that I ask, “The damsel in distress who was preyed on by the old vampire woman driven by jealousy?”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s a more recent, twisted version of the fairy tale.” She leans back in her chair. “Our experts agree that it got confused with stories of an old vampire woman who enchanted a spindle to draw blood from young girls and put them under her influence.”

Serra cuts in. “The real story is much, much older, Miss Novak. The princess from the fairy tale, she is no real-life princess. Her name isn’t Aurora. It’s the Aurora, meaning the being embodying the cosmic will to live.”

“Okay,” I murmur, feeling more confused than before.

Serra leans to explain. “The Aurora is pure magic — vampire, shifter and fae, whose role in the universe is to keep it in balance.”

I let out a scoff. “But there’s no such thing as a being who’s all three in one.”

“There hasn’t been, for at least eleven centuries, “the fae-blooded woman says, “long enough for the legend to be forgotten, to survive only as a few muddled fragments in stories that tend to have nothing to do with the original.”

“Until now, that is,” Serra adds.

Are they saying what I think they’re saying? “Are you kidding me?” I demand, raising my voice without meaning to. “I’m not even a shifter, not properly at least.” And I motion at Bane. “Go ahead, ask him.”

When I turn to look at him, I find him narrowing his eyes at me, as if I’m the one who’s being suspicious here.

The fae-blooded woman clears her throat. “We’ve been analyzing your behavior, Miss Novak—”

I turn to Serra again. “Have you been talking to these people about me?” I demand.

She stays silent for a second. “Lorcan and I,” she finally starts hesitantly, “we’ve had our doubts ever since we found out you were a shifter.”

Lorcan clears his throat. He sounds as if he’s forcing himself to speak when he says, “It’s not something that normally happens, Miss Novak — a human turning out to be an Original. It goes against the laws of nature.”

I lean back in my chair and fold my arms. “I want to talk to the Pied Piper.”

“The Pied Piper doesn’t believe in this,” Serra replies with a shake of her head.

“Then why should I?”

“Miss Novak,” that fucking fae-blooded woman starts again, sounding as if she’s talking to a half-wit, “only hours ago, hundreds of students saw you destroy Academy property using a type of magic no living Original is capable of wielding.”

“How do you explain that?” Lorcan cuts in.

I frown, my mind starting to buzz uncontrollably. “I’ve been feeling strange, sure—”

Lorcan barks out a laugh. “Feeling strange, she says.”

“The magic you used wasn’t the magic of an ordinary shifter, or an ordinary vampire, or even an ordinary fae, including those who have experience in Divine Magic,” Serra explains patiently. She takes a book out of her robe, opens it and hands it to me across the table. “It was the magic of the Aurora, as depicted in this book right here.”

I look down at the illustration. It’s the same drawing Alaric showed me, just in a different book.

“In normal circumstances,” I hear the fae-blooded woman’s voice, “you would be someone who’s already awoken all of her powers, the powers of all three bloodlines. But since it is true, what you say about your skills being… lacking… and since, right now, you only seem to be able to wield the Aurora powers accidentally, not intentionally, we will need you to immediately start the preparations to complete your training.”

When she finishes, I find myself gripping the book tight, staring at the illustrations in absolute silence. Then I let go of it and look up at Serra. “What if I say no?”

“Miss Novak,” the fae-blooded woman starts in a harsh tone, “there are no laws regarding the Aurora and our intention is not to do you any harm. No one can force you to do this. But according to the last bit of the prophecy that turned out to be true so long ago, Baldur only needs to have his remaining three pieces awoken to lift the curse that was placed on him, and when he does…”

“Let’s just say we won’t be able to defeat him all over again,” Serra says as she takes another book out and slides it across the table to me.

I look at the old carving on the page she’s opened the book to. It’s one of those majestic depictions of a bloody battle in full swing, but in this one, everyone — humans and Originals alike — seems to be at complete mercy of a tall, black figure wielding an entire army of what I can only interpret as shadow soldiers. “Those are Baldur’s nightmares. It’s the most powerful Shadow Magic you can imagine and there is nothing he can’t do with it, ergo the Old Norse tribes deeming him a god.”

It’s when I look up at her that she adds, “Without the Aurora, we don’t really stand a chance. And we’ll need you to at least master one of your three bloodline powers.”

They don’t give me time to react. “You have until the winter break is over,” the fae-blooded woman concludes as she gets up, making everyone else but Bane and me follow suit. “We’ll be leaving now, but we ask that you take the following month to think about our proposition and come for a meeting with MacArthur and Naehorn on the first day of the second term. We’re looking forward to hearing your decision.”

I don’t say anything. My mind is buzzing too much for my mouth to observe niceties. I just watch them all leave the room, everyone but Bane, Serra and Lorcan.

I can tell they’re about to launch into a discussion with me, so I beat them to it. “Sorry,” I say as I get up and start making my way to the bathroom, “I’ll be right back.”

***

I’m sitting in the bathroom stall, staring at the tiles in front of me when I ask, “Did you know about this?”

It surprises me, when she actually replies. I did. And so did you.

“Tell me what’s going on,” I order. “What is that thing I do when I touch people, what are those visions I keep having, and why is all this so difficult for me?”

She lets out a laugh. Sure. Just tell me what happened to your last incarnation.

At this, I feel such a violent rush of guilt, shame and pain that I can barely breathe. I put my arms around myself and grit my teeth. “How am I supposed to know that?” I finally squeeze out.

You could if you wanted to.

“Why are you like this?” I ask, this desperation starting to suffocate me. “What have I done to you?”

It almost makes me jump up, when she snarls, You know what you did, child. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.

For a moment, I stay silent, my breathing heavy and my face flushed. “You’d rather watch me get myself killed than talk to me?”

She lets out a scoff. What does it matter? You’ll just get reborn again.

“It doesn’t work like that,” I grit out. “It doesn’t make death any less scary.”

It’s in a voice dripping with mocking poison that she replies, I know.

And with that, she slinks back into the shadows, leaving me sitting there in absolute silence, fighting not to start crying.

***

It’s in a haze that I step out of the bathroom, finding only Bane left waiting for me, standing in the middle of the landing with his arms folded. Good. It’s him and only him I want to talk to right now. Still, I ask, “Where did they go?”

“You took longer than you think,” he says as he watches me approach with this caution in his eyes. There’s no reprimand or saltiness in his voice though. He’s just stating a fact. “They said they’ll see you after the winter break, eight AM sharp.” He lowers his arms to his sides. “Listen—”

“Is there anything you can do to make my wolf talk to me?” I cut in, the desperation threatening to gnaw its way out of me. “There are questions I need answering and she’s refusing to answer them.”

For a moment, he just looks at me, something flashing through his eyes. “I understand,” he starts slowly, “but it’s never a good idea to try to force your animal into anything, so if she doesn’t want to talk to you…”

The desperation gnaws its way a little closer to the surface. “What do you think about all this?” I ask.

I don’t know what it is, but I need something from him and I need to get it before the cracks start showing.

He takes a deep breath, his jaw clenching. “What do I think? I think you should put it out of your head and go straight to bed.”

“Put it out of my head?” I echo with a frown. “That’s the only thing I can’t do.”

“Well do it anyway,” he replies forcefully. Then he relaxes a bit and leans a little closer, seeming to hesitate before he says, “You’re struggling as it is and if you start—”

“Got it, thanks,” I coldly cut him off, needing him to shut up as quickly as possible. I only register his eyebrows shooting up before I tear my eyes away from him and take a step back, fighting to keep my cool because of the burning pain the words cause me.

Struggling as it is...

“I only meant to say you have enough on your plate,” I hear him say with this caution in his voice, but now, all I want is to get away from him as quickly as possible.

I have to force myself to look him in the eye again and put on a smile. “No, you’re absolutely right. I’ll be going straight to bed,” I lie. “Thanks for the advice and good night.”

He’s very obviously not buying it, his frown only growing deeper, but I just throw him a nod, turn on my heel and start moving out of the Tower.

When I sense him fall into step with me, I shoot him a look, to which he says, “I’ll walk you to the Tower.”

“I need to be alone right now,” I say in the lightest voice I can muster.

“I don’t think that’s a good—”

“I don’t care,” I snap. And I can't take it back, but… I come to a stop, I turn to face him and I blow out an awkward laugh. “Sorry about that. Just go back to the party and have fun, alright?”

I don’t wait for his reaction. I turn around again and start rushing down the stairs and straight to Lycan Tower, determination making my blood pump faster. The winter break is officially starting and I know exactly what I need to do right now. I’ll grab a few essentials, I’ll use the emergency Pull Pass and I’ll get the hell out of this place well before all this madness makes me break into a million pieces.

Chapter 23

Feeling numb after yet another sleepless night, I keep sitting in the Junkyard, waiting for the sun to rise and the second term to officially begin. On autopilot, I keep trying to summon those powers I supposedly exhibited at the first-term exam.

I’m a shifter and I can…

I’m a fae and I can…

I’m a vampire and I can…

Nothing happens, not even my imagination starting to work.

I’ve been trying for a whole month, during the entire winter break, with absolutely no success, so why would anything happen now?

“You’re absolutely useless,” I tell my wolf, but I only get silence in response.

I let out a sigh. Only an hour, that’s how much time I have left before I have to make my decision, and I’m no closer to making one than I was before the break.

If I listened to Serra, I’d just do it.

If I listened to Bane, I’m guessing I’d tell them all to fuck themselves.

As if on cue, there’s the infuriating tangle of powerful emotions that rises to the surface as soon as he pops into my mind. I haven’t had any contact with him since the Order meeting, but I have found myself typing his name into my browser countless times, wondering what he’s doing, where and who with, and whether I ever cross his mind like he does mine.

It’s annoying as hell, especially when I fail to stop myself from getting caught in that same old vicious circle, the one I’ve been a victim of ever since the night of the Ball.

It starts with random, uninvited flashes — the eyes, the mouth closing over my nipple, how it felt to have him inside me… It unfailingly leads to this unbearable urge, not just to have it happen again, but to go and tell him exactly how out-of-this-world that experience was for me, and to ask him, well…

I don’t know what I’d ask. Maybe the same thing I wondered after that night in the forest. Is that just what it feels like for a shifter?

Of course, that only makes me imagine him turning insufferable, being all like, “You telling me I’m not just your number-one asshole, Novak?”

Or even worse, it gets me deeper into the vicious circle — remembering what he told me after the Order meeting. Struggling as it is… Whenever I remember that, it gets the memories of the Sobbing Lake rewritten into a story of a struggling woman letting herself get carried away with an asshole who obviously did want to have sex with her, maybe still does, but who’d laugh in her face if he knew what kind of stuff was going through her head.

That’s the moment I usually renew my decision of staying the hell away from him from now on, because that’s not how I do things. I don’t obsess, I don’t fret, I don’t read into things. I take what I want and I move on.

Besides… I haven’t the slightest idea what will happen to my special classes, but my life has become immensely more complicated than it was before the night of the Ball. I don’t need any other nerve-wracking complications thrown into the mix.

Therefore, what I should do right now is to stop letting him pop into my head like this and start focusing on the future.

The Aurora.

It would explain the visions. It would mean they’re flashes of memories from my past lives. They did say the Aurora is a being that endlessly reincarnates.

Still… Me? Was there ever a more pitiful shifter, let alone all three in one? And what, I’m supposed to defeat some Old Norse god?

Yeah, laugh about it, I scorn myself. It’s such a laughable matter. The pictures they showed me flash through my mind. Then the drawing, with the pattern that according to Raven can only be a representation of my tattoos, and the symbols which I’ve come to the conclusion can only be a representation of a ritual.

One which I don’t know how to decipher, not even to see what it is, let alone find out what it does.

What am I supposed to do with that?

It makes my hand dart to my jacket pocket, where I keep the copies of the only things I found while doing my research. The fairy tale itself — the useless Sleeping Beauty. Information on Baldur, also useless. Yeah, lists and lists of hints that the Aurora could be a sacrificial figure, in the end.

I don’t feel prepared to think about it, but that’s the question that’s been plaguing me. If this is all real, does it mean I’ll have to sacrifice my life, no matter what happens?

It doesn’t help my mood, when I hear someone walking down the hallway bordering with the Junkyard and I see it’s Lorcan.

It’s the way that he throws a glance at me, that makes me feel this is no accident.

They’re keeping their eyes on me.

Right now, I really don’t like feeling watched, so I move to get up and go back to my room, when I hear another pair of footsteps, two in fact, and my eyes land on Raven and Alaric entering the Junkyard.

They walk up to me in silence, coming to stand in front of my bench. I’ve filled them in already, when I returned from my wanderings yesterday, but I was beat and we haven’t really had a chance to talk at length.

“Do you think it could be true?” I ask them.

“What’s the alternative?” Raven says.

I shrug. “They’re lying to me. I don’t know why they’d do that, but—” I break off, spotting Lorcan again. “Look at him,” I say as soon as he turns the corner, “getting ready to pounce.”

There’s a second of silence before Alaric asks, “Where’d you disappear to, Anna?”

My eyes are still fixed on the spot where I saw Lorcan disappear. It’s weighing on me, all those things I’ve never shared with anyone, that seem so important now. “I’ve a question for you two,” I say as I turn to look at them. “Have you ever touched something and felt yourself be transported someplace else?”

Alaric frowns. “Afraid not.”

I nod pensively. “When I was eight years old,” I start, the images flashing through my mind, “we went to visit this museum with the school. I remember being so excited because this boy from my class, he said we’d get to see a mummy. Real-life mummy. It’s only later, when I connected the dots — you know, some mummies being vampires in deep sleep — that I did a bit of research on the one they took us to see. All my research said it was magic gone wrong, nothing to be done to wake this particular vampire up.”

“What does this have to do with you, Anna?” Raven asks.

“I wasn’t supposed to, you know, but I had this obsession with touching stuff that I felt were old, and so I lingered next to the mummy as the rest of the class moved on, and I touched it.”

I see Alaric’s eyebrows shoot up.

“I don’t think it matters what I saw. It’s all a blur now anyway. Flashes of war and glimpses of strange magic and stuff like that.”

An image of my mother’s listless eyes appears in front of me. I let out an awkward laugh. “When I told this person what I’d seen, she said I have an overactive imagination. That everyone gets flashes like that, it’s just images in your brain.”

“I believe what you’re describing is a vision,” Raven says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah. I guess it could be. They’re only getting more vivid these days.”

“What if it is true, Anna?” Alaric asks. “What will you do?”

“As if I have a choice.”

“They told you you do.”

“Oh,” I drawl mockingly, “so I should just keep going to classes, talking about exams with the two of you and ignoring the threat the world is under?” I shake my head. “No, I don’t have a choice,” I say. “So the question is not whether I’ll be dealing with this. It’s whether I can trust these people.”

I get up, feeling as if I’ve finally found something that will help me make my decision.

“You keep this for a while,” I tell Alaric as I hand him the book with the drawing, I’d like to make sure it stays safe.” He nods. “Now, I’m off to the meeting. Would you like to come with me?”

***

It’s fifteen to eight when the three of us step onto the seventh-floor landing of the Grimm Tower, finding Bane leaning against the wall with his arms folded, watching us intently.

They throw me off and make me slow down — the pale skin, the dark rings around his eyes, this stiffness in his muscles. It must be that merger I read about taking its toll on him.

Why is he here though?

It’s only when he tears himself off the wall — throwing a glance at my friends — that it hits me. He’s supposed to attend this meeting as well. Damn it. Even if they stop requiring me to come to special classes, it seems I’ll still have to put in that request to get assigned to someone else.

Bracing myself, I turn to Alaric and Raven to ask them to wait for me. There’s a frown on Alaric’s face, but we come to an agreement without exchanging a word. I watch them go sit on one of the benches along the wall, then walk straight over to him.

“Business not going too well, Bane?” I ask, forcing a lightness into my tone. It’s only when he scowls at me that I realize I’m not being funny, I’m being insensitive. “Sorry,” I blurt out, “I wasn’t trying to—”

“Doesn’t matter,” he cuts me off. “We need to talk, Novak.”

“I’m just about to step into a super important meeting,” I say with a smile, insisting on keeping things light.

He’s still dead serious when he says, “That’s what I’m here to discuss.”

Ah. He’s probably worried he’ll have to keep babysitting me because of all the Aurora crap. I don’t want to get into the matter of switching professors before I actually manage to pull it off, but I have to say something. “Well… ‘discussing’ is what the meeting is all for, isn’t it?” I tell him with a smile.

He observes me for a second, biting back on something. “Fine.”

I nod and move to walk away.

He comes to block me, seemingly hesitating for a moment. “And where exactly did you go after the last one?” he asks.

“What do you mean?” I ask with a frown. “I left for winter break, like everyone else.”

He lets out a scoff. “You said you needed to be alone. That doesn’t imply disappearing for a whole month.”

I just blink at him, my mind starting to reel when I get this strong impression he’s expecting me to address what happened at the Sobbing Lake.

“Well?” he demands.

“I can’t get involved with anyone right now,” I blurt out.

He frowns. “Involved?” he echoes, something I can’t put a finger on twisting his features.

Disgust? “No, sorry, I—”

For the first time in my entire life, I’m glad to hear Lorcan’s voice. “Miss Novak,” he calls out, making me turn to see him frowning from the Lounge doorway. “If you’d be so kind so as not to waste anyone’s time.”

I only throw another glance at Bane before I turn to Raven and Alaric, raising my eyebrows in a plea for them to follow me inside.

They do, and so does Bane.

When the three of us enter the Lounge, I find Lorcan and Serra already seated around the table. “You know,” Lorcan frowns as he glances at my friends, “you can’t just bring whoever you want.”

“I think you’ll find that I can,” I reply simply. “Would you wait for me here for a minute?” I turn to ask Raven and Alaric.

Alaric nods.

I don’t take a seat, I look at Serra and ask, “Professor Naehorn, might I have a word?”

Lorcan and her exchange a look, but then she gets up and as Raven, Alaric and Bane take their seats, we step out of the room.

I don’t hesitate. If I do, I won’t get any of this done. “Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you started suspecting I’m the Aurora or whatever?”

She shrugs. “I wasn’t allowed to,” she replies simply.

“How convenient for you.”

There’s a moment of silence before she says, “I’ll have you know that none of this is convenient for me, Miss Novak.”

I just look at her for a second. “So you’re in the Order.”

She nods. “Yes, I have been for many years. I just never thought we’d be getting the summons, not during my lifetime at least.”

I squint at her. “How come there hasn’t been an Aurora in such a long time?”

“I will be giving you that information as soon as I get my hands on it.”

“There hasn’t been any indication that she will show up again?”

She lets out a sigh, signaling to me that she’s about to say something she’s not very proud of. “There has, in the prophecy we mentioned to you the last time we saw each other. It didn’t just make us believe this could be the year it finally happened. It also made us believe the Academy would be the place we’d find you,” she adds with a glance around the room, “due to its ancient magic drawing you to it.”

Wow, this puts a whole different spin on my desire to be in this place. “And when it turned out I was a shifter…”

“Yes,” she says with a nod. “Lorcan and I notified the Order and we all started preparing for the awakening of your powers.” It’s with a sorry look in her eyes that she urges, “But we didn’t want to put any unnecessary strain on you, in case we turned out to be wrong.”

I think for a second. “Fine,” I reply, pushing myself to keep going. “I want you to tell me, right now, what you’ll be asking of me.” There’s a pause during which I’m mustering the courage to say it out loud. “Am I supposed to die? Is this all leading to some sacrificial ritual, with me as the lamb going to slaughter?”

It’s with a smile and a shake of her head that she says, “No, Miss Novak. You’re supposed to awaken your powers and get ready to confront Baldur.”

My choice would be the same, but this makes me breathe an audible sigh of relief.

“Oh,” Serra starts, “I wouldn’t be jumping for joy if I were you. Just think of what it’s doing to you — becoming a shifter after a lifetime of being a human — and multiply that by three.”

“Why not avoid it altogether then?” I demand, a little more harshly than I would’ve liked to.

“What do you mean?” she asks with a frown.

“What even are these Baldur’s pieces?”

She presses her lips tight, shaking her head. “We can’t be sure, but we believe they’re the four parts of him that remained imbued with his powers even after he got dismembered. A lock of hair, a rib, the heart and a fang.”

“Alright, so why not stop him from showing up in the first place?”

“Let’s go,” she says with a smile, “I’ll let Lorcan fill you in.”

I nod, but I hesitate.

“We will be doing everything in our power to help you as much as we can,” Serra urges. “You know that, don’t you?”

“I guess I’m willing to believe you,” I say as I look away with a sigh.

“So you will be working with us, Miss Novak?” she asks.

I take a deep breath. At least her I seem to be able to trust. “Yes,” I reply with determination. Then I force myself to give her a smile. “And Anna’s fine.”

She nods contently and motions for me to follow her back inside.

“Before we start,” Lorcan asks as soon as we take our seats, “I’ll just ask if maybe you’ve already made your decision, Miss Novak.”

I only hesitate for a second before I say, “Actually, I have.”

I feel Bane’s eyes fix on my profile, Lorcan raising his eyebrows at me.

“The answer is yes. I’ll be working with you.”

With the corner of my eye, I catch Bane shift in his chair as if he’s about to cut in. But he doesn’t say a word, almost instantly leaning back.

“Perfect,” Lorcan says. “This is how it’s going to work, Miss Novak,” he starts in his most official voice. “I’m the Head of the Grimm Academy section of the Order and as such, I’ll be the one making decisions about your further education. You’ll keep going to regular classes, but from now on, you’ll be required to go through even more materials in your spare time.”

Just as I open my mouth to ask what any of that has to do with the evil ancient vampire, he explains, “These will have to do with our task of finding the sites of the remaining three dormant pieces of Baldur. We’ll be sifting through information on potential locations, mostly cursed sites in selected parts of Europe. Any time we find something, the location will be investigated by the members of the Order. Understood?”

“Yes.”

He gives a nod. “Serra has convinced me to allow you to keep your part-time role at the Library, but we will also require you to train more regularly. As for your mentor—”

Shit. “How often will we have to train?” I cut in. I didn’t exactly imagine making my request to replace Bane while in a meeting that he himself is attending.

Lorcan’s eyebrows shoot up at the interruption, but he just clears his throat and says, “It’s up to you really, but I believe once a week should be the bare minimum.”

I glance at Bane, who just gives me a somber nod.

To my relief, Lorcan doesn’t get into it any further. Obviously content with the arrangement, he just keeps droning on about my new schedule and all the things we’ll be covering.

I struggle concentrating. I hope this was a good idea. But even if it turns out not to be, I have a plan B.

I won’t just be waiting for that Baldur guy to just show up.

When they give me access to the Lexarcanum book — which they will have to now, maybe I won’t learn anything new.

When I manage to decipher that ritual, maybe it won’t help me in any way, but I will find a way to prevent him from awakening in the first place, if it’s the last thing I do.

I won’t let any of this derail my future.

Chapter 24

It’s the very next morning that I have my first training session scheduled. I’m almost at the location, which, surprisingly, isn’t B13 but one of the larger gyms at the Academy. I’m walking down the hallway, keeping track of the numbers. B20, B21.

I’ve just found out that Serra’s declined my request to access the Lexarcanum and I’m… not exactly happy about it. If being the goddamn Aurora won’t get me in there, is there anything that will? And besides, the book chose me, for crying out loud, and wasn’t Serra trying to make me believe she was on my side?

Come on, Anna, I tell myself just as I arrive in front of B24, a large double door that’s slightly ajar, gym smells wafting up to me from the inside.

I hesitate for a second, my mind rushing to the way Bane slipped out of the room as soon as yesterday's meeting was over, silent and with a look of unconcealed disapproval on his face.

I didn’t even expect him to be there, so it didn’t exactly register until I got to my room later that day — the fact that the man who showed up wasn’t that man I spent the night of the Ball with. It was the Bane from before. Intense, serious, smirking at best. That’s the ‘mentor’ I’m about to spend yet another pointless hour with.

It’s fine, I tell myself. The goal for today is only to push through this one session before I get reassigned to someone else.

Taking a deep breath, I push the door open and step inside the room. It’s as big as a football field, with large windows flooding the parquets, the white walls and all the equipment scattered around with bright winter light.

Almost instantly, my mentor appears in front of me, hands in his pockets. It surprises me to see he seems a lot less intense, but it’s still a dead serious one — the look on his face. “I’m just going to say this,” he tells me in a somber voice. “I think you’re making a huge mistake.”

“I know,” I chuckle, squinting at him as I start making my way to one of the mats lying in the center of the room. “You do understand you’ve made that very obvious?”

I sense him follow me as I lower myself into a lotus position, taking my books out of my tote.

“What’re you doing?” I hear him ask.

I look up to find him towering over me with a frown. “I have studying to do,” I say with a shrug, “as I’m sure you have calls to take.”

He snatches the book out of my hand, making me throw him a scowl from my spot on the floor. “No, we have ‘discussing’ to do,” he says forcefully. “Which you said would happen during the meeting, but then you went and just said yes to all that crap without so much as a second thought.”

I get up and take my book from his hand, tossing it onto the mat. I take a deep breath, giving my all to stay amicable. “For your information,” I tell him calmly, “I gave it a lot more than a second thought.” I can’t resist adding, “You might not realize this, but other people’s lives, they happen even outside your involvement.”

He ignores the stab and just shakes his head, remaining serious. “No, I’m not buying it. There’s something else going on. I mean, there has to be,” he says, his voice taking on a mocking tone, “because otherwise I’d have to believe you actually agreed to work with obviously delusional members of an Order betting the made-up fate of the entire universe on shifter students who can’t even shift.”

“And yet I did,” I say flatly.

A muscle in his jaw twitches. “That’s not my point and you know it, smartass. I’m saying I can’t believe you bought into their bullshit.”

“What if it’s not bullshit?” I ask earnestly, shrugging my shoulders. “What if it’s true?”

He lets out a scoff then leans a little closer. “Hate to step on your rose-colored glasses, oh Chosen One, but sometimes,” he says mockingly, “when someone tells you you’re oh-so-special, they don’t actually mean it, they’re just saying it for you to do their bidding for them.”

I let out an exaggerated groan, throwing my arms up. “This is not about me. If it turns out it’s not true, who cares? But if it turns out it is, well, I’d be saying no to saving the world, now wouldn’t I?”

“No one saves the world, Novak,” he insists with this bitterness in his voice. “The world is shit and will always be shit, but luckily, none of it is your responsibility, unless you choose to stay the fool you’re apparently intent on being.”

Wow. I just look at him for a second. Then I take a step back. “No.” I shake my head, hoping to make him finally drop it. “I’m not ‘discussing’ this with you any longer because, frankly, it’s none of your business.”

“None of my business?” he snaps. “I’m your mentor, in case you forgot.”

I let out an exasperated sigh and turn back to the mat. “You know what?” I say as I grab my tote and my book off the floor. “This is on me, thinking you could last one hour without being an asshole,” I complain as I push past him and start moving for the door, “but you can’t even respect my decision so I’ll just go—”

He comes to block me. “Oh I’ll be respecting your decision alright. It’s just that you won’t exactly like it.”

My eyebrows pull down when he takes the tote off my shoulder and lowers it onto the floor. “What’re you doing?”

“Since your decision is to be stupid,” he says simply, “I guess I’m being forced to start training you for real.”

It’s in growing confusion that I watch him take a step back, push his chest out and fold his arms. “No one is forcing—”

“Though I have to warn you,” he cuts me off, tilting his head at me and making his voice saccharine like he did once before, “it means the end of your fucked-up ways.”

“Fucked-up ways?” I protest. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Constantly depriving yourself of sleep,” he readily lifts a hand to start listing, “only ever eating junk food, drinking insane amounts of coffee…” He pauses to pin me in place with his eyes, his lips curling into a self-satisfied smirk. “That all stops because from now on, you’re doing everything my way. You’re working out how I tell you to, you’re eating what I tell you to…” He quirks an eyebrow. “Hell, you’re even going to bed when I tell you to.”

“Fascist much?” I snap, albeit without a bite to my words.

A lazy smirk tugs at his lips. “Why don’t you quit being a smartass and start trying to defend yourself, huh?”

Um… Wait, is he being serious? Defending myself from him?

“With what, my sparks?” I demand with anxiety in my voice.

He shrugs. I don’t have time to linger on it, because he’s lifting his left hand in the air and the next thing I know, all the light in the room gets sucked into his palm, all except a tight circle around the two of us.

What the…

For a moment, he just looks at me with this smug smile on his face. Then he takes a single step back, disappearing into the darkness.

My breath catches, then my heart starts pounding.

I’m afraid to tear my gaze away from the spot where I last saw him, but seconds go by and the total absence of sound coupled with a feeling of being watched intently… It’s all becoming too unnerving.

Reluctantly, I lower my eyes to my right hand, summoning the sparks. What else?

It’s too late, because there’s this super fast movement to my right, and before I can even try to move or do anything with my only power, my legs get swept off and my ass crashes to the ground.

I groan, only to hear a low chuckle sound from behind my back. “Come on, Novak,” his smooth, smirking voice pokes at me, “don’t you want to be the best Chosen One ever?”

***

I’m breathless and aching, but after what seems like an eternity of getting my ass kicked, I summon all my remaining strength and manage to concentrate the sparks into a single point hovering above the tip of my middle finger. My eyes rounding, my instinct nudges me to use a flick of my wrist to send it flying.

It shoots across the space before me with a sound much like the cracking of a whip.

Huh.

My distraction with what I just did only makes it easier for him to make his move from the cover of darkness, sending me falling face first this time.

Groaning, I pick myself up, my chest heaving and my muscles burning.

“Stop, just stop,” I tell him in a breathless voice, bending at the waist with the heels of my palms digging into my thighs. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Your wish is my command,” he chuckles from somewhere in front of me, “oh Chosen One.”

And the next thing I know, the darkness gets sucked in the direction of his voice and I find myself in the brightly lit gym again.

I look up, trying to throw daggers at where he’s standing, but I have to immediately look down because all I see are goddamn silver spots.

“Come on,” he says as his hand holding a bottle appears in front of my face, “drink up.”

I stand straight and down it greedily.

When I’m done, still breathing heavily and trying to blink the silver spots away, I find him on the mat, lying propped up on one elbow, looking up at me.

“You know, there’s no chance in hell I’m giving up coffee,” I tell him as I start a wobbly trek to the mat.

“Fine,” he says as he throws something at me, making me catch it midair, “now eat that.”

I lower myself to the mat across from him, looking at the thing in my hand. Looks like some kind of protein bar. I frown and look up at him. “If you're expecting me to stop eating normal food…”

“I don't care what you eat,” he says with a frown, “but I do care about you getting all the nutrients you need, not just empty carbs. Make sure one of those is the first thing you eat every day. You can get them in the cafeteria.”

“Alright.” I take a bite and almost fail to stop the urge to spit it all out, that’s how bitter it is.

He’s laughing at the face I’m making, but the thing is strangely soothing as well, so I ignore him and keep eating, letting my eyes sweep over the gym and reveling in the progress I’ve made as I absent-mindedly lick the crumbs off my fingers.

It’s then that it finally hits me and I look up at him, catching him staring. I throw him a snarky smile, but I can’t seem to get it out of my head, that I’ve just had an actual training session with him.

“What?” he asks, squinting at me.

Which means he could be of actual help to me. Maybe.

I hesitate, but only for a second. “I need you to arrange access to the Restricted Section for me.”

He lifts into a seated position, his eyes narrowing at me. “You need me to,” he echoes with a touch of defiance in his voice. “What, you think you can just snap your fingers and I’ll do whatever you want?”

I frown at him. “I need to get my hands on the book that chose me.”

He lets out a scoff. “So it’s just to indulge your curiosity that you’re bossing me around like that?”

I roll my eyes. “I’m asking you.” Then I shrug. “And no, it’s because the book just has to contain information about the Aurora thing.”

He frowns. “You do know professors have to teach here for at least a year to get access themselves?”

Damn it, he’s right.

“Besides,” he keeps going, “why don’t you ask your precious Order? Or better yet, why don’t you start by checking the information they’ve already given you?”

That makes me frown. “What’re you talking about?”

“That incident they claim is the result of Baldur waking up? It’s obvious it was their doing. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have anything to pressure you with.”

“No,” I insist with a shake of my head, “they couldn’t have done it, the Authority classified it as Nature Magic misfiring.”

He quirks a mocking eyebrow at me. “You can’t fake a Nature Magic misfiring?”

“Of course you can’t,” I say with a frown.

At that, the bastard laughs at me.

Blood rushing to my face, I snap, “Instead of acting all superior, why don’t you use your mouth and your brain to explain yourself?”

His lips tug into a smile before he turns serious again. “Imagine being a criminal with expertise in Divine Magic.”

“Fine,” I say flatly, still a little butthurt.

He lowers himself back onto one elbow. “Divine and Nature Magic are a lot alike, right? Of course, it’s usually easy to tell them apart once you start investigating, but the results… they can look exactly the same.”

“What’s your point?”

“Let’s say you want to kill someone without getting caught. If you get good enough to pass the Authority tests, all of a sudden you have two options.”

I’m intrigued against my will.

“You have the option to stab them, rip them to shreds, drain them and so on and so forth, and pray the Authority never gathers enough evidence to figure it out,” he continues. “Or, for example, you have the option to drain them without it looking like a living being was involved.” He shrugs. “And without a living being involved, is there even a case to gather evidence for?”

I nod pensively.

“Exactly,” he says with a smirk. “It’s the perfect crime.” He leans a little forward to pin me with his stare. “That’s exactly what they did with those Norwegian deaths, and you’re just letting yourself fall for it.”

I roll my eyes, but I get what he’s saying. Still, I just keep looking at him in silence, because there’s this daring thought rising to the surface of my mind.

I guess you could say he’s smart and strong and powerful…

He raises his eyebrows at me, making me snap out of it.

“Fine,” I finally say, “I’ll think about looking into that.” I pause to muster determination, but then I just go for it. “In the meantime,” I ask with a slightly awkward, hopeful smile, “help me break into the Restricted Section?“

***

I watch him sit up, his eyebrows pulling down as something flashes through his eyes, something I can’t quite put my finger on.

I just keep looking at him, hoping.

He lets out a scoff, averting his gaze for a second. “You do know that’s illegal, don’t you?” he asks with a squint.

Damn it. “I don’t know what I was thinking,” I rush to say, my smile turning out tight-lipped. I push myself off the floor. “Just… Forget about it, alright?”

I don’t wait for a reaction. I grab my tote and move for the door, breathing a sigh of relief when I realize he’s remained right where he was sitting.

It’s with disappointment making my shoulders slump that I walk over to the door.

I open it, only to have it closed shut again. There’s his hand, palm pressed against the wood.

I turn to look at him, his arm and his body crowding me. He doesn’t look pleased.

“Fine,” he says through gritted teeth, making my eyebrows shoot up. “I’ll buy the book, and in return, you’ll get ideas like those out of your head. Understood?”

It’s with a lot of determination that I shake my head. “These kinds of books aren’t for sale. Even if they were, if you want to help me, you’ll have to do it without the dirty money. It’ll have to be the two of us just happening to find ourselves in the right place at the right time.”

“No,” he snaps. “If anyone’s going, it’ll be me. Alone.”

“Not a chance in hell,” I insist, signaling for him to get out of my face and folding my arms. “I was the one chosen by the book, it needs to be me in there.”

He runs a hand along his jaw, blowing out a frustrated breath. “If I do this,” he says, lowering his head so his eyes are at the same level as mine, “you’re coming to Norway with me, so you can see for yourself what an idiot you’re being about the ‘Nature Magic misfiring’.”

I ignore the mocking way in which he says those last words. “You got yourself a deal,” I say with the widest grin.

He closes his eyes for a second, shaking his head. Then he looks at me again. “Tonight at midnight, show up in the Library and return a book. I’ll find you there.” He lifts a warning finger. “And since you’ll be of no use otherwise, prepare to be very quiet.”

“Quiet like a mouse,” I rush to reply, still smiling. “Then I guess I’ll see you tonight.”

I turn to the door, only to have his arm block my way again.

It makes me swallow roughly, when he wraps the arm around my waist and comes to press his chest into my back. “I don’t remember dismissing you,” he says in a low, scolding voice.

The voice and his breath against the skin of my neck make heat pool between my thighs, but I shake my head and choose to be firm and straightforward, “I’m not getting involved with you.”

“You say that as if it can only be a complication,” he whispers, then proceeds to tug the collar of my shirt to the side so he can take a bite of the flesh between my neck and my shoulder.

My eyes fluttering shut, I fight not to squirm with pleasure. “And what is it, if not that?” I ask with a breathless laugh.

“This?” he asks as he slides his hand down my stomach and under my tights, my breath hitching when he starts stroking me over my panties. “Just two people taking what they want in the moment. Unless…” The fingers of one hand still teasing me down there, he runs the fingers of the other up my nape, threading them through my hair and pulling my head back and to the side so he can whisper into the corner of my lips, “Unless you tell me this is not what you want right now?”

Chapter 25

I stop in front of the Library entrance, wondering what I’m getting myself into. It’s not just about breaking into the Restricted Section. If only it were.

I’ve spent the afternoon assaulted by the flashes of him bending me over the bench in the gym — being all bossy and taking his sweet time making me come over and over again — and trying to figure out why I let it all happen again.

I mean, there’s no denying that I’m seriously attracted to him, and he obviously knows exactly how to use that against me, but come on…

It was only yesterday that I decided this is not the kind of complication I need in my life right now.

Then again… We’re only two people taking what we want in the moment, right? And if he doesn’t think it should be more complicated than that, why should I?

It makes me breathe a sigh of relief when the thought pops into my head for the first time. Like any physical attraction, this has to have an expiration date. At one point, I’ll get it out of my system, he will too, and we’ll both move on with our lives.

It’s just as the clock strikes midnight that I give myself a determined nod and step through the entrance, all my focus instantly shifting onto the dreaded task at hand.

It’s with a buzzing mind and sweaty palms that I show up in front of a colleague at the Service Desk, handing her the book I’ve brought with me.

Almost as soon as I start turning left — trying not to even glance at the Restricted Section and wondering what the hell I’m supposed to do next — I spot Bane standing between the bookshelves, motioning for me to come over with an open book in his hand.

It surprises me, to see how relaxed he is. Quirking an eyebrow at an illustration he has the book open to, he asks, “Is this the kind of thing that made you become a Librarian?”

I frown. “You’re dead wrong if you think I can focus on that right now,” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. “So, what’s the plan?”

He looks up at me, closing the book shut. “So jumpy,” he quips, obviously amused.

I shoot him an angry look.

“Fine,” he says with a low chuckle, putting the book back.

Then, to my surprise, he takes his jacket off and slings it over my shoulders, taking a second to observe the result. “Now you smell like me. When Derek opens the door for me…” He gets in my face, turning dead serious. “Go for it, no hesitation, got it?”

Then he goes back to being annoyingly relaxed and starts turning in the direction of the staircase.

What the… “That’s your plan?” I demand as I come to block his way, fighting to keep my voice down. “Me darting through the door and past the vampire trained to guard it?”

His lips curl into a smirk. “Well,” he drawls as he comes to press himself against me. “I believe I already told you you’d have to be very quiet.”

“What kind of magic will you be using?” I ask as I take a step away from him.

“Magic?” he echoes, his eyebrows shooting up and lips curling into a smile. “No magic, Novak.”

“No way,” I say with a shake of my head. “Come up with something else or we’re not doing this.”

He shakes his head, but he’s still smiling as if this is all just so amusing to him. “No magic is the only way I can pull this off without leaving a trace. You have five minutes, not a second longer.”

It makes me put on a smug smile, when it hits me. “I don’t think so,” I start a little mockingly, “because even if I could do what you’re asking me to do, how do you plan on making Derek just open the door for you?”

“Why don’t you leave that to me?” he says with a mysterious wink.

I just blink at him for a second. It’s through gritted teeth that I say, “You’re crazy.”

“Do you want my help or not?” he asks with a shrug.

I blow out a frustrated breath. “Fine.”

“Perfect,” he says, “now go your separate way and position yourself near the stairs.”

I shake my head, but I do as he says.

I start aimlessly browsing the books in the Mind Magic section, the one closest to the stairs.

Fuck, I definitely will not be able to do this. So if I fail, should I just pretend I’d had a nervous breakdown or what?

But it doesn’t take long for me to hear his voice. “Derek, my man. How’s it going?”

My ears pricked up, it makes me grab a book, open it and lift it up high enough so I can keep my eyes on the stairs.

“Not exactly an exciting shift, I have to say,” I hear Derek reply with a smile.

“Yeah, I can imagine. Saw you up here and I was like, what would we do without people like you?”

Flattery? That’s his brilliant plan?

“Come on,” I hear Derek chuckle, definitely not sounding like he minds, “it’s not a big deal.”

It makes me frown, the very thought of him pulling it off.

“You know,” Bane starts again, that contagious mysteriousness in his voice, “I’ve always wondered what goes on in there.”

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Derek replies.

Well, he’s messed it up now, I think, already breathing a sigh of relief, because it’s over, right? If he goes any further, it’ll seem very suspicious.

I think I hear him take a step closer to Derek. “I’m sure you do,” he says in an even more enigmatic voice. “But of course, you’d never put your integrity on the line for, what?” He pauses for a second before he adds, “Spending time alone with curious strangers?”

It makes my eyes round. He’s flirting with him? And I know Derek’s gay and it’s not like it’s just girls pining after Bane, but… It’s still a terrible idea.

Then I hear Derek almost start stuttering. “It’s not that I, um, I’ve never made an exception.”

“Really? How interesting,” Bane drawls.

“Yeah, and well, if you’re really that curious…”

“I am.”

Quickly, I put the book back. Holy hell, he’s done it. I hold my breath and start climbing, as silently as I can, up the carpeted stairs, and I hear Derek let out a soft laugh and open the door.

My heart starts pounding like crazy.

“Let’s see what dangers lurk behind,” Bane lingers to say just as the two of them appear in my line of sight, and motions for Derek to lead the way, giving me a chance to dart through the door and glue myself to the wall to the right.

Bane closes the door behind him, his large frame hiding me in plain sight. I keep holding my breath. I see him leading Derek deeper into the room.

I’ve done it, I think with a sigh of relief. It’s only when I’ve already breathed out that I realize what I’d done.

“What was that?” Derek asks, suddenly all serious, as he stops and moves to turn around.

Blood curdles in my veins, my entire body preparing for a sprint.

It all happens before I can move a muscle. Bane lifts his hand up, the light in the room gets sucked into his palm, I hear Derek curse, and then there are only sounds of struggling.

There’s this flood of fear and anger that starts coursing through me, and it feels like it’ll be lights out for me again, but then the light goes back on, as suddenly as it disappeared.

I find myself standing a few steps away from the wall, frozen mid-movement and staring at Bane towering over Derek’s body on the floor.

There’s horror in my eyes when they back up to Bane.

“He’s just unconscious,” he says with a shrug. Then he quirks an eyebrow at me. “Still, maybe you should get moving.”

I don’t wait to be told twice. I force my legs to work and I start running through the bookshelves until I’m turning the corner with the door into the Lexarcanum.

There, I come to a screeching halt and open the door as gently as I can, all the while trying to ignore the pounding of my heart. I keep standing there with the knob in my hand, my eyes getting immediately drawn to the spot all the way up on the left, the image of the book struggling to fly out of the shelf having been etched into my mind.

It’s in the same spot that I see it. The sigh of relief I let out makes me realize I was secretly afraid I would find out it had been stolen, even despite the Lexarcanum magic only allowing the books to be moved by people they are intended for.

“Novak,” I hear Bane growl a low warning.

Right. Making myself shake it off, I let go of the doorknob and move to step inside.

Only to have this blinding burst of energy send me stumbling back.

“What was that, Novak?” I hear Bane demand in a voice still low but much more forceful.

“I’m fine,” I grit out, my eyes fixed on the entrance.

Damn it. They’ve tightened the security.

“Tick tock,” I hear another low snarl in warning.

Gritting my teeth, I let out a muffled curse, turn on my heel and rush back into the first room, where Bane is waiting for me, holding out the biggest book I’ve ever seen.

“Once you’re out of here, I want you to go straight to bed,” he tells me. “Now, hit me like you mean it.”

I open my mouth to say no way in hell, but then a sound comes from Derek’s unconscious body and I grab the book in my hand.

And I hit him with all my strength, but I only make him grimace as he turns his head to the side. Still, he seems pleased.

He takes the book out of my hand and sends me on my way with a sharp tip of his head that brooks no discussion.

I rush out of the Restricted Section, trying to be as silent and nonchalant as possible on my way down, despite my heart pounding so loudly, I’m sure it’ll give me away.

Chapter 26

It’s morning outside and still I can’t fall asleep, going in circles wondering if he got caught, who it was that placed extra security on the Lexarcanum and whether there will be any consequences for any of us. It startles me, when my phone starts ringing. It’s on the nightstand, vibrating as the sound keeps piercing my ears. I grab it, but I hesitate, the fact that it’s an unknown number adding to my dread. He did get caught, didn’t he? And now they’re calling to tell me they know I was involved as well.

Damn it, Anna, get it together and just answer the phone. “Hello?” I say with hesitation in my voice.

“Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty,” comes the mocking reply.

Bane? It’s his voice for sure. “Yes? Is everything okay?” I ask, even though he sounds downright chirpy.

“Didn’t I tell you you’ll be doing things my way from now on? That includes getting up when I tell you to.”

I roll my eyes even though he can’t see me. “Fine, I’m up.” I open my mouth to ask if the Academy Guard came to see him as well.

But he beats me to it. “Perfect,” he says, and hangs up.

For a second, I just frown at my phone. Then I breathe an audible sigh of relief and decide I’ll be going straight down for breakfast.

Before I can even put my clothes on, my phone pings. Thinking it’s Bane again, I come to check it, only to see we’re being summoned for another meeting with the Order.

Whatever that means, it can’t be good. I rush to get dressed and storm out of my room.

It’s in record time that I’m entering the hallway with the secret order room, my eyes immediately landing on him. Bane, his back turned to me, strolling down the hallway as if nothing ever happened.

It makes me breathe a sigh of relief, because it must mean that nothing did.

I rush to catch up until I’m falling into step with him. He gives me an unsurprised side-long glance, then quirks an eyebrow when he sees me inspecting his forehead.

No visible damage. Phew.

“Morning to you too, Novak,” he drawls as he comes to a stop, putting a cup of coffee on the commode to his left. “Now hold out your hand.”

The request makes me frown, but I listen, if nothing, out of curiosity.

He turns to face me, reaching into his pocket to take something out as he explains, “This is your new alarm clock.”

He snaps a sleek black bracelet with his company’s logo around my wrist, looks at it for a second and then locks eyes with me with the slightest smile tugging at his lips. “From now on, you go to bed at midnight and wake up every morning at eight sharp.”

“You can’t be serious,” I protest with a frown.

“Dead serious.” He takes his phone out, pulls up an app and says, “And I’ve gotten a strong impression that waking the Chosen One is equal to waking the dead, so let’s just make sure this thing works.”

He presses a button, the bracelet almost instantly starting to buzz so obnoxiously, I start looking for the off button.

When I don’t find one, I look up to find him staring at me with a smirk on his face. “How do I shut it off?” I demand.

“You don’t,” comes the explanation for the smirk, “only I can.”

My eyes narrow at him as the goddamn thing keeps buzzing like a demon from hell. “Yeah that’s not happening.” And I try to unclasp it.

When I fail, I close my eyes for a second, take a deep breath and then look up. “Let me guess, I can’t take it off either.”

Shaking his head, he clicks his tongue, the smirk only growing wider.

“Who makes bracelets you can’t take off?” I complain. “Don’t tell me you got this specially done just to be an asshole?”

“Why of course,” he says with feigned earnestness. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint, now would I?”

I throw daggers at him and hold my hand out again. “Take it off.”

He shakes his head. “I thought you wanted to train for real,” he says, getting in my face to throw me a little squint. “And there’s no real training without overall discipline.”

I lower my hand, but I do make a point of rolling my eyes with an exaggerated sigh.

He laughs. Then he gets the coffee off the commode and hands it to me, making my eyebrows shoot up.

“Now, so as not to be a complete asshole,” he starts as I take a whiff, “I’ll be allowing you one a day, except on the days we have training sessions or Order meetings. On those days, it’ll be me bringing you the coffee.”

It smells amazing. I take a sip. It is amazing, but it’s also not just coffee. When I look up at him, he says, “It’s just some special shift-inducing spices.”

He starts back down the hallway, making me rush to catch up with him, my mind going straight back to last night.

I throw him a sneaky glance, failing to stop myself from poking. “So, after I left? You and Derek had a good time?”

“Why, you jealous?”

“You wish,” I say with a scoff. “I actually think you’d make a cute couple.”

“You spent a lot of time thinking about that?” He pauses to throw me a knowing smirk. “Or just the possibility your competition’s gotten significantly larger?”

I roll my eyes. “You’re insufferable. Now I hope you actually do fall for a guy and find yourself having to endure all the stigma.”

He shrugs. “Even if I were into men, you think I’d care about what others thought of me?”

I just look at him for a second. “How mature you are,” I say sweetly just as I walk up to the secret order room. I stop to grab the doorknob, adding, “But of course, only when it’s in your best interest, so...”

I move to push the doorknob, but the door doesn’t move. He’s wrapped his fingers around my hand and he’s pulling it in the opposite direction. “Are you really that desperate to find faults with me?” he asks with another smirk. “Maybe you should think long and hard about what that means.”

He gives me a mocking wink, opens the door and motions for me to get inside.

I throw him a flat glare. “I don’t really need to try to find faults with you, Bane. So why don’t you fuck off?”

He does a mocking little bow. “It will be my honor, oh Chosen One.”

It makes me let out a laugh. Still smiling, I make my way to the still empty table. As soon as I get settled in my seat, he walks over, grabs the chair next to mine, lowers himself into it and pushes it as close to me as possible. “Is this far enough?” he asks, his knee pressing into mine.

There they are, the unfailing butterflies in my stomach. I roll my eyes and drag my chair away from his.

It doesn't make him wipe the smug smile off his face, but it’s at the very next moment that the others start entering the room.

I throw warm smiles to Raven and Alaric, and curt nods to Serra and Lorcan.

“It’ll be a short meeting, don’t worry,” Lorcan starts grimly as the rest of them take their seats. He remains standing in front of his, fixing his eyes on me. “Of course, only if everyone here chooses to tell the truth.”

What the…

He glances around the table. “Where were you all last night around midnight?”

“I was in my office,” Serra says, looking as if she knows exactly what’s going on. “I still had some papers to grade.”

Lorcan nods and turns his attention onto Alaric, who seems utterly confused. “Raven and I were in my room, playing cards.” Raven nods.

Lorcan’s eyes dart to Bane, narrowing in irritation. “We know where you were, Bane.”

But it’s rubbing me the wrong way, the way he’s trying to lord over everyone with the needless suspense, so I cut him off to explain to Raven and Alaric, “Someone broke into the Restricted Section last night, Bane tried to help and was attacked along with one of the guards.”

“How good of you to remind us of yourself, Miss Novak,” Lorcan says with poison in his voice. “Why don’t you tell us where you were.”

“You know exactly where I was and what I know, you did send one of the Academy Guard to my room to interrogate me last night.” I throw him a fake smile. “But sure, I’ll humor you. I was in the Library, and I know I heard something up there, but I thought nothing of it, and I just returned to my room.”

“So this has got nothing to do with you having asked for access to the Restricted Section, again?”

“I’m still hoping to get it, so no,” I reply snarkily, “I haven’t started thinking about break-ins, yet.”

I see him grit his teeth. “Well, you’re not getting the access, especially now.”

Goddamn it. “But Professor, did they even take anything?” I ask, trying to salvage the situation.

“No, they haven’t, but that doesn’t mean we’re in the clear.”

“You’re really not giving me access?” I demand.

“No. You’re all dismissed,” he says as he moves to walk away, motioning at Serra to follow him. “This was it for today.”

“Wait a second,” I urge, sitting straighter and making Serra stop getting up. “Alaric, could you show them the book?”

He takes it out of his bag and hands it to Lorcan. Lorcan takes it, frowning.

“If you’re so bent on refusing to give me any more information,” I start, “could you at least tell me how this book could be related to the one that chose me. It’s got the same symbol showing in a drawing inside.”

Lorcan thinks for a second. Then a smile tugs at his lips. “Thank you for bringing this.” He puts it in his robe pocket.

Gritting my teeth, I watch him and Serra leave the room.

***

It’s late and I’m in the cafeteria with Alaric and Raven, pretending to be on my phone while fuming inside. That goddamn Lorcan, blocking my progress every step of the way. I’d hoped I’d somehow be able to avoid doing what Bane wants me to do. It doesn’t feel particularly tempting to me — researching weird deaths and potentially finding out I’m being lied to.

What am I supposed to do? Nothing? Just wait for Baldur to show up?

It snaps me out of it, when I hear the sound of a cane hitting the polished stone floor of the cafeteria.

I look up only to find Serra walking up to our table, leaning on her cane even more than usual. “Could I talk to Anna alone?” she asks my friends.

“Sure, Professor Naehorn,” Alaric says, and the two of them get up and leave in search of another spot.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come sooner,” Serra says.

“Are you okay?” I ask as I watch her lower herself into the chair. I’m still sore about her declining my request for access to the Restricted Section, but the state of her is making me forget all about that. It’s not just the rapidly graying strand of hair on her head, it’s the paleness of her skin as well.

She gives me a tense smile. “Well, to tell the truth, I am a little worried about last night’s break-in.”

“You know,” I say with a shrug, “the whole Aurora thing might be the center of our universe right now, but as far as I know, we’re the only people at the Academy who even know about it.”

She smiles again, looking at me like I’m some innocent puppy. “Oh Miss Novak…”

It does make me realize what I’ve just said. “Yeah, I understand,” I admit through gritted teeth. “But there’s nothing I can do to help, so…”

I look away, wanting her to leave.

There’s a moment of silence before she says, “You know, it wasn’t me who declined your request for access to the Restricted Section.”

I turn to look at her, my eyebrows pulling down.

Pressing her lips tight as if she’s uncomfortable about it, she says, “He just wanted me to make it seem like it wasn’t him turning you down.”

Lorcan.

I take a deep breath, my jaw clenching. “I see.”

She leans a little forward, throwing me a slight, knowing smile. “I just want you to tell me I have nothing to fear.”

Fuck, she knows it was me. Of course she does. She went to the scene of the crime, where I did end up making Bane use magic after all. She seems to be covering up for us. It’s in a softer voice that I say, “It’s all good, trust me.”

She breathes a sigh of relief.

“Although,” I add, recognizing an opportunity, “I have a feeling I won’t be getting to see that book, ever again. I’m not even talking about the Lexarcanum book. That’s how desperate I am.”

To my surprise, Serra throws me a mysterious smile, says, “Well…” She reaches into her robe pocket, taking Alaric’s book out and handing it back to me, just like that. “Let’s just keep this our little secret.”

My eyebrows shoot up. I smile. “Damn, Serra. You’ve just made my day.”

She opens the book for me on the bookmarked page. “And I saw that you tried deciphering this bit right here. Only, you don’t seem to be able to figure out this particular mysterious symbol.”

It makes me frown.

“When you first mentioned it, right here in the cafeteria…” She clears her throat in discomfort. “We still weren’t sure about you and I didn’t want to burden you.”

I hold my breath as she glances around the room, leaning a little closer and dropping her voice. “It’s the symbol for Baldur, Miss Novak. The Bringer of Suffering.”

My mind exploding, I just watch her get up. “Hope this helps, and have a pleasant afternoon,” she says and walks away.

As soon as she’s out of sight, I get out of my chair and rush over to Alaric. Confused, I glance around for a second, but it seems Raven has flown away somewhere. “Come on,” I tell my friend, “let’s go somewhere more private.”

***

“This changes everything, Alaric,” I tell him as soon as we throw ourselves on my bed. It’s almost midnight and this is the place I feel most comfortable talking about this right now.

“What the hell’re you talking about?” my friend asks with a frown.

I crack the book open, pointing at the scribbles. “I’ve tried deciphering this, right? And sure, I’m fairly certain these three are symbols for the three Original bloodlines — fang for vampires, eye for faes, moon for shifters. These two are water or something like that. I know the top part of the central symbol is suffering, which sounds like it should help, but it doesn’t. The meaning of a composite symbol is rarely a simple combination of its parts and there’s no record of this particular symbol anywhere. Which basically means I’m stuck, right?”

I lock eyes with him, excitement flooding my entire body.

“Um, yeah,” he says, sarcasm in his voice, “I believe that’s exactly what’s happening here.”

“Well, you can shove the sarcasm up your scrawny butt, Alaric,” I tell him with a smug smile, “because Serra just told me what the symbol means.” I watch his eyebrows shoot up. I drop my voice to say, “It’s the symbol for Baldur.”

“What the…”

“Yeah,” I say with a couple of vigorous nods. “And that’s what I meant when I said this changes everything.”

“So you know how to interpret it now?” he asks with a spark in his eyes.

It throws me off. “Um, I mean, no—”

He laughs. “But I can shove my sarcasm up my butt, is that what you said?”

“For crying out loud,” I say with a frustrated sigh, “I may not be able to tell you exactly what it means, but…” I throw him a grin, jabbing my finger at the central symbol. “It’s got Baldur himself at the center. Whatever it is, it’s a ritual that will allow us to do something to him.”

Alaric shakes his head, pressing his lips tight. “Or allow him to do something to us.”

I frown. “It’s an Old Norse ritual, Alaric,” I reply matter-of-factly. “They never have the caster represented in the schematic.”

“Of course,” he groans, slapping his forehead, “how could I have forgotten that?”

I roll my eyes at him. But then excitement floods me again. “It’s a victory, Alaric. With some luck, I’ll be able to stop the evil ancient vampire before he ever sets foot on this earth again.”

Seeming impressed, Alaric nods. “I propose a celebration with a party pack of nachos.”

I smile from ear to ear. “Motion seconded.”

It’s at that moment that I get a text. It’s Bane saying, “Lights out, Cinderella.”

I check my watch, my eyebrows pulling down. Is he seriously expecting me to go to bed at midnight? “Sure, right away. Night,” I reply, but instead of actually doing it, I just go to get the nachos out of my desk drawer.

What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right?

I’m back on the bed, chatting with Alaric with the open bag of nachos between us when my phone pings again. “If you’re in bed getting ready to sleep, why are your lights still on?”

For crying out loud. What kind of fascism is this? For a second, I consider replying, “I don’t know, maybe you’re stalking the wrong person?”

“What’s going on?” Alaric asks with a frown.

I roll my eyes, but I did agree to this, so I put on my big-girl pants and say, “It’s party over, that’s what’s going on. You can ask Bane all about it.”

I see my confused friend out and I turn the lights off before I start getting undressed.

“Perfect,” comes another text.

I don’t reply. I just get in bed, my mind rushing straight back to what I’d just been telling Alaric.

I’ll still have to go investigate the deaths, I think to myself. I promised Bane I would. But at least I’ve got something else going on.

Chapter 27

Why did it have to be six AM? I’m horrible at six AM, even when I’m not tired, groggy and anxious like I am right now. Even when I’m not being shocked out of sleep by the buzzing demon bracelet around my wrist.

It’s early February and the Academy grounds are still covered in snow, so when I come outside, my breath puffs in front of me. There’s no one else walking the grounds and it’s still dark, which is not surprising considering it’s, again, six AM.

I’m finding it more than a little weird, to be walking towards Bane, Alaric and Raven waiting for me in front of the garden Pull Chamber. I almost let out a groan when it hits me, that the three of them might not exactly get along.

But as soon as I get near enough to see that Bane has my coffee in his hand, I feel the first flutter of hope that this day might not turn out to be as horrible as I thought it would.

“Good morning, Anna,” Raven greets me as I come to a stop in front of the three of them.

“Morning, Raven. Sorry I’m late, everyone,” I say as I exchange nods with the other two, taking the coffee out of Bane’s hand. I’ll just down it and we can be on our way.

“That’s alright,” Alaric says just as I lift the cup to my mouth, “it wasn’t awkward at all.”

I lower the cup, fighting not to cringe, even though the remark doesn’t seem to hurt Raven and only makes Bane look at my blunt little friend with raised eyebrows and a curious smile.

Still, it all makes me rush to say, “Well, what are we waiting for?” And I motion at the Pull Chamber.

“We,” Bane says as he turns his focus onto me, “punctual as we are, were waiting for you.”

I fail to stop myself from complaining. “Do you know what hoops I had to jump through to get the equipment for this without anyone knowing? All you did was get us Pull passes for the day.”

“All I did?” he asks with a feigned frown. “Guess you won’t be needing this then.” And he takes the cup out of my hand, making me grit my teeth.

This is not a day I can handle without coffee.

“Um,” Alaric starts with a weird glance between the two of us. “What’s going on here? Am I in some lame teen show?”

“Let’s just go, alright?” I say, forcing myself to stay civil, but when I see Bane step into the Pull Chamber with the cup in his hand… “You’re going to spill it,” I protest.

“Maybe you would,” he replies with a smirk, motioning for us to get inside.

Yeah, this is turning out to be an even worse experience than I thought. But before I know it, all four of us are in the Chamber, Bane is saying the words and we’re getting sucked someplace else.

***

It’s frozen forest ground the four of us find ourselves on, no Pull Chamber to be seen. But when I glance around, it becomes so perfectly clear to me, why there’d be no need for something like that here. There’s only a sea of enormous leafless trees around us, this mist gathering around their trunks and their branches shivering in the freezing winter air.

Everyone else seems absorbed in the sight as well. For a moment, my eyes stay fixed on Bane. He has his back turned to me, this tension in his entire body as he surveys the surroundings in a way that gives a strong impression of complex calculations being carried out.

“Are we there?” I ask, my voice sounding more hollow now.

He takes a second longer. “Close,” he says somberly.

Then the only ex-military member of the group starts walking and the three of us just follow him like little ducklings. As we go, I can’t seem to tear my eyes away from the forest. I’ve never been this far north so it was perfectly clear to me I’d be going someplace that’s not familiar to me.

But it’s not the unfamiliarity that’s making me feel as if all my fears about this place are quickly becoming a reality.

It’s the fact that I’m finding myself instantly and deeply unsettled by it.

“Wow, this is creepy,” I hear Alaric say.

“Any other brilliant insights you’d care to share?” I snap before I even realize what I’m doing.

I feel all three pairs of eyes on me. “I’m sorry, Alaric,” I say as I shoot him an apologetic look.

And I don’t want to infect any of them with my own anxiousness, so this is what I choose to offer as an explanation, “Not that it’s an excuse, but I didn’t get much sleep.”

“With the schedule I have you on,” Bane asks with a frown, “how’s that even possible?”

“I really don’t want the third degree, Bane,” I snap, again.

“No need to bite my head off,” he murmurs, lifting his hands in defense.

“You are being unusually rude, Anna,” Raven says.

Damn it. But before I can even open my mouth to say sorry again, Bane cuts in, “This seems to be a group of highly blunt people. I think I like it. But don’t worry about it, Raven.” He throws me a side-long glance as he holds the coffee out for me. “I believe I know how to get her to show some manners.”

I ignore his smirk and take the coffee, if only to force myself to stop with the childish behavior. I take a sip, letting out a content sigh before I throw Raven a look filled with remorse. “I was being rude, Raven. I’m sorry.”

She gives me her small, tight-lipped smile.

“Bloody hell,” Alaric chuckles, “you’re really on a roll today, Anna. Soon you’ll be running out of people to apologize to.”

I blow a laugh through my nose, throwing him a grateful look.

There’s a moment of silence during which I feel relief at the fact that this might be the end of all the drama I’ve managed to stir up.

That would only leave the effect of this godawful place on me, I think as my eyes sweep over the silent trees once again.

“Still,” I hear Bane say, “you didn’t answer her question.”

I have to fight not to let out a groan.

“She didn’t?” Raven asks, the fact that she's addressing him surprising me a little.

“She didn’t,” he explains innocently. “You were asking why she was being so unusually rude.”

“Was she really?” Alaric asks with this suspicion in his voice.

I throw Bane a scowl then let out a sigh. Just don’t get into how you’re feeling about this place and they’re bound to drop it. “Again,” I start, “not that it’s an excuse, but I spent all day yesterday juggling going to classes, doing homework, training, chasing Professor Tanyth to make the crystal for me, and working the shift at the Library.”

“Here’s an idea,” Bane starts in a serious voice, “quit the job no one’s forcing you to do and you might actually stop being too overworked to get a good night’s sleep.”

“What’re you talking about?” I ask with a frown. Then, softer, “It’s my dream job, I’m not letting it go for this very temporary, stupid Aurora shit.”

“Your dream job?” he echoes. “Really? Didn’t you say it was to be closer to magic that you wanted the job for in the first place?”

He remembers that? “I did.”

He throws me a sideways glance. “You are magic now. How much closer to it can you get?”

“Well,” Alaric says begrudgingly, “he’s got a point.”

It’s at the very next moment that Bane puts his hand out, making us all stop midstep.

My eyes land on the wooden stairs first, jutting out of the snow like broken bones. Then they drag up the staircase all the way to the house itself, a crumbling wooden structure with hollows instead of windows and doors, shooting high up into the sky and leaning a little forward, as if the holes are about to swallow us whole. The sight makes my breathing shallow.

“I think we’re at the spot,” I hear Bane say just as I spot the bit of red Authority tape showing under the fresh snowfall just at the foot of the stairs.

“So,” Bane snaps me out of it. He’s turned to me, hands in his pockets and a mocking little smile on his face, “now what, oh Chosen One?”

How does he always stay this relaxed? I throw him a fake smile. “Now we finally prove you wrong.”

Finally getting here is actually making me feel much better. We’ll just do this real quick and get the hell out.

Alaric and Raven come closer as I take the crystal out of my bag, holding it tightly. “You say this is Divine Magic,” I tell Bane, “not Nature Magic as the Authority claims or a curse as the Order claims.”

“Will you stop it with the smugness?” he asks with a scoff. “Or don’t you realize you haven’t earned it yet?”

“Khm khm,” Alaric says. He doesn’t even pretend to actually clear his throat, he just says the words.

It makes blood rush to my face, when Raven tugs at his coat sleeve and asks, “What is going on, Alaric?”

“Yeah shhh,” he says, but he’s looking at me. Knowingly. “I don’t want to answer that question.”

I roll my eyes at him, but I clear my throat and I turn serious. “The crystal,” I say as I lift it up for them to see, “it’s been enchanted to react to magical force fields. When I let it hang by its thread, if any magic has been cast here, it’ll start vibrating. If it’s Nature Magic we’re dealing with here, it’ll start pulling us in the direction of the source. If it’s Divine Magic, the source of the magic is a person that’s not here so it’ll just keep vibrating.”

“And if it’s a curse?” Alaric asks.

“Same thing, just vibrating.”

Bane frowns. “So how will we tell them apart?” Squinting at me, he grumbles, “You didn’t really think this through, did you?”

“You really didn’t,” Alaric agrees.

“No,” I insist, “you can’t tell them apart using just the crystal.” I lean a little forward, dropping my voice. “But there’s the feeling you get when you arrive at a cursed place. It’s creepy, get it?” I ask Alaric with a smile, referring to how he described the woods when we’d just arrived.

“Yeah, Novak,” Bane cuts in with an incredulous drawl, “we’re in the middle of a forest, in the dead of winter, with a heavily overcast sky. I’d say the creepiness could be called subjective, wouldn’t you?”

I roll my eyes. “Why don’t we get a move on.”

We do, climbing the stairs up to the house, Bane insisting on going first. No one objects.

Since there’s no door, we just walk inside, finding ourselves in a dark room with broken wooden beams blocking the way across the frozen ground littered with sad, dirty remnants of the life the inhabitants used to lead — a rusty old cast-iron pot, pieces of fabric, smudged paper, a doll head.

You shouldn't be here, my wolf warns from the shadows.

“I thought you didn't care,” I tell her.

Still, her warning makes blood curdle in my veins. Then my eyes land on it.

A wide-open mouth on a face in agony.

I stumble back, feeling the fear lodge itself in my throat. Glancing around, I see that the others have discovered the other two corpses.

They’re all sitting on the ground, their hands resting on their thighs with palms up, their heads thrown back and their mouths open in that same unsettling way.

There seem to be no bite marks, just as the Authority said, but their bodies are still unambiguously drained of all blood.

I keep staring at the one I’m standing in front of, transfixed by the very thought that this was the place one of four Baldur’s pieces lay dormant until not that long ago.

I can’t help but wonder which one it was and where it went once it was stirred from its slumber.

It makes my heart skip a beat, when the image before me flickers and I see these shadows creep across my field of vision. I hear a click of a tongue boom inside my head, followed by this deep, male drawl asking, “What are you doing here, my darling? Is it me you’ve come to see?”

Then I feel it all stop, as abruptly as it started, leaving my heart pounding.

For a moment, I keep staring at the corpse, then force myself to keep my cool when I sense Bane walk over to me with his eyebrows pulled down.

“Let’s be quick about this,” I say, trying to sound light. I squeeze the crystal tighter and, feeling three pairs of eyes on me, I lift it up and let it drop, slowly swinging on the thread until it gradually stops.

Of course, it’s vibrating, and not gently at that. It’s no wonder, that this is the effect of some magic. What else could it be?

I let the crystal hang for a couple of minutes, in complete silence. But it doesn’t seem to be trying to lead me anywhere. “It’s not Nature Magic,” I say, “that’s for sure.”

I look around the space once more, feeling its vibe seep into my bones like ice-cold tar. “A goddamn curse,” I whisper.

“It’s not a curse,” Bane protests, but he doesn’t sound too sure now.

“It is,” I hear Raven’s voice. All our eyes dart to her, the one who’d know. “I have no doubt about it,” she says in a strangely pensive voice.

I just look at her for a second, feeling the need to give her a hug and shrugging it off thinking I might make her uncomfortable. “See?” I turn to Bane instead. “I was right and you were wrong.”

“Some victory,” that’s what his look is telling me. Because he senses it now, too.

It does feel like a defeat more than anything else. I let my eyes sweep over the corpses once again. “So this is real.”

“Yeah,” Bane says in a low, serious voice, “this is real.”

Chapter 28

We’re in the garden — Alaric, Raven and I — lying around an ancient oak with the April sun beating down on us and other students walking past. There are papers strewn on the grass around us, but we’re all struggling to keep our focus on the task at hand, albeit for different reasons. Alaric is too focused on Raven, Raven is too focused on ravens skipping around, and I…

I'm torn between two things… I'm worrying about the whole end-of-the-world-as-we-know-it, especially when I think about how little progress I've made since my first real training session with Bane. Sure, I can shoot whips out of my fingers, but I'm not in control of them in the slightest. Electricity is proving to be a highly fickle thing. I know I need to be able to rein it in to actually use it, but no matter what I try to achieve it, it doesn't work.

I'm also failing to stop thinking about a certain someone. Today, it’s all got to do with the fact that, just last night, I left the light on after midnight and earned myself another one of those warning texts. But it also made me realize it’s been months since he and I started having sex. Which is a lot longer than I thought this would go on, especially since, well, my appetite for it is not showing any signs of waning.

To make it even worse… I look up from the papers to throw a sneaky glance at Alaric. He’s keeping his mouth shut for once, but I know he knows, and the fact he hasn’t said anything… It only goes to show he doesn’t approve.

It snaps me out of it, when he lets out a dragged-out sigh, his eyes fixed on the paper in front of him.

Now I’m back to worrying about the task at hand. Now that I've quit my part-time job in the Library, I definitely have more time and energy to devote to stuff like the papers in front of me — all containing information on places that might turn out to be spots where the other three pieces of Baldur are buried, but as my eyes sweep over them all, I once again find myself feeling desolate.

It’s like whatever I do, I can’t get any answers, just more questions, like whose voice it was in my head back in Harald.

The thought that it could be Baldur himself sends shivers down my spine. There’s this need inside me to tell someone about it, but it’s not like we’re not already trying to stop him from coming back. Why add to everyone’s troubles? This is a weight that I need to carry myself.

“Hopeless, isn’t it?” I say as I look at my friends, making them both sit up. “And if only I’d made progress on deciphering the ritual, maybe it would be less hopeless, but…”

“It doesn’t matter,” Alaric replies. “If you want to keep going, we’ll keep going.”

“I don’t know if there’s any point. These are just places people say are cursed.”

“It is a start nevertheless,” Raven replies.

“Yeah,” I mumble, not really convinced. “But it’s been almost three months since we went to that place and we’ve nothing more to go on than we did back then.”

“Maybe it is time to rethink the way we are approaching the task,” she tells me.

It’s far from a novel idea, what she tells me, but it does something. I sit up. “Alright,” I start, determination in my voice, “I think I know what I want to do.”

“What?” Alaric asks, narrowing his eyes.

“Let’s just say I have these…” I pause, trying to find the right words. “Feelings about some of these places.”

“Why didn’t you say so?” Raven asks.

I shrug. “I mean, I have feelings about stuff all the time,” I say with mockery in my voice. “I don’t think you want me to start sharing them at all times.”

Alaric quirks an eyebrow at me. “Yeah, Lilith forbid.”

I roll my eyes at him, but I’m smiling.

“Which places do you have feelings about and what kind of feelings are they?” Raven asks.

Raising my eyebrows, I take a deep breath and look at the papers again. “This one,” I say as I point at the copy of a photo of this vampiric shrine in the middle of a field somewhere in the south of France. “It makes me feel… warm for some reason.”

“Yeah, it’s probably not that one then,” Alaric comments.

“Then there’s this one,” I keep going, catching momentum as I look around for it and point at an image of this city intersection in the north of Germany. “It makes me feel sad.”

“Good,” Raven says, nudging me to go on.

“This one,” I say as I point at an image of some village in the English countryside. “It makes me feel… angry.”

There’s a second of silence before Alaric replies, “We have two very good candidates. The German city and the English village.”

I blow out a frustrated breath. I guess we could go visit both of them.

“Where do you want to go?” Raven asks. “Which place are you most drawn to?”

“The village,” I reply, noticing it’s without a second of hesitation that I do.

That makes me feel confident about it when Alaric says, “Then that’s where we’re going.”

For a moment, I just look at the two of them, feeling so grateful I have them in my life. Then I nod with determination and I take my phone out. “I’m texting Bane.”

“We need more Pull passes,” I write. “Can you get them for today?”

I move to put my phone away when I see him start to type. “At your service, oh Chosen One. Where are we going?”

“Kinwick, England.”

“And why are we going there?”

This makes me hesitate. The man seems to have a strong opinion on everything I ever choose to do, and I have a feeling this particular choice he’ll be against. Not wanting to get into a discussion, I just type, “I’ll explain later. Thanks for taking care of this.”

I put my phone down, knowing he won’t be sending anything else. It’s always my texts that are the last in our chats. I look up at Raven and Alaric, who are both waiting. I throw them an encouraging smile. “We’re going, today.”

Raven nods. Alaric takes a deep breath, as if in preparation, but then he nods as well. He grins, saying, “Well, if we’ll be putting our lives in danger again, I at least want to do it on a full stomach.”

It makes me smile. I nod and we get up, heading straight for the cafeteria.

***

We’re still in line in the cafeteria when this feeling makes me crane my neck and I spot Bane sauntering through the archway.

It’s not the three of us he walks up to. It’s a man sitting at a table by the window, alone. I squint, recognizing Professor O’Connor, the one in charge of issuing Pull passes. I’ve never liked the guy, simply because he’s one of those that are only here for the prestige.

As soon as he spots Bane walking over to him, he smiles and motions for him to take a seat. I watch the two of them exchange pleasantries, it being a rare opportunity for me to observe Bane without being observed myself.

I feel Alaric nudge me to keep moving in line. I’m just about to tear my eyes away from Bane, when I see him slide something across the table to O’Connor.

My eyebrows pulling down, I watch Bane get up and turn to walk away.

Did he just…

I put my tray back and find myself rushing to catch up with him. It’s just as he’s about to walk out of the cafeteria that he stops and turns around, as if he’s sensed me burning a hole in his nape.

It’s with his usual smirk that he watches me slow to a stop in front of him.

“Did you just pay O’Connor for the passes?” I demand with a frown.

The smirk slides off his face. He shrugs. “England and Germany aren’t besties at the moment. The usual, legal routes aren’t an option.”

“I think I told you I don’t want your dirty money involved.”

For a second, he just looks at me, his jaw clenching. Then he blows out a soft scoff, smooths his features out and comes to whisper in my ear, this defiant tension in his voice, “Pity, because right now, ‘my dirty money’ is the only way for you to get to England without wearing out that high horse of yours.”

And he steps back, folding his arms, waiting.

I practically have to squeeze the word out. “Fine.”

“No need to go overboard thanking me,” he says coldly.

I open my mouth to tell him where to shove it, but then his phone pings and he takes it out to check the message.

“Oh look,” he says as he locks eyes with me again, his voice saccharine, “we’re good to go.”

“You’re not coming,” I reply through gritted teeth.

“Try and stop me,” he grits out, too.

***

I stumble out of the Pull, landing near a crossing of two village paths, the wind whipping my face as it howls across the otherwise silent English countryside sprawling around me.

Bane is already standing in front of me with his back turned, surveying our surroundings. I throw a look over my shoulder to check that Alaric and Raven are there, but as soon as I do, I turn my eyes back ahead. The beating of the wind making it jerk left right ever so slightly, there’s an old wooden signpost at the center of the crossing in front of us. The arrow with the name Kinwick painted in peeling white is pointing ahead, to the crumbling little village faintly outlined against the gloomy sky. It’s all stone houses with thatched roofs, moss-covered drywalls and drops of freshly fallen rain glistening from everything.

It’s when I feel Alaric and Raven come to stand around me that I take a deep breath, put on a smile and say, “Let’s go, shall we?”

Bane throws a look over his shoulder and locks eyes with me. When I told him why I wanted to come here, he wasn’t pleased, and he hasn’t stopped showing it. But he doesn’t say anything. He just breaks eye contact and starts walking, motioning for us to follow.

I’ve no idea what to expect, but it’s only when we come closer to the village, and I spot a man in his sixties walk out of his house and stop midstep when he sees us, that I realize that the village had kind of seemed deserted to me.

The man squints and this feeling of dread suddenly overtakes me, so I’m glad when I realize that Bane is planning on just walking past the man’s house.

I keep walking behind him, wondering what the hell I’m doing, going out of my way to make it easier for trouble to find me.

Before we even pass him by, the man’s squint turns into a warm smile and a friendly wave. “Hi, how’re ya?” he says in a quite unintelligible English accent.

I slow down, returning the smile and then coming to a stop.

“Hello there,” I say with warmth in my voice, feeling the eyes of all my companions on me as I sense them stop. “We’re good, how are you?”

The man smiles again. “You lost, luv?” He glances around. “We don’t get many visitors around here, that’s for sure and certain.”

I take a step closer, smiling. “Actually,” I start, an idea brewing in my head, “we’re journalists.” I rush to add, “Don’t worry, not the nasty kind.”

I catch a frown from Bane’s direction, but I don’t care. I just keep smiling, trying to make myself seem as harmless as possible.

The man scratches his head, smiling a little self-consciously. “Heh, well, what’re you writing about?”

“It’s kind of silly, actually,” I say with a laugh. “We’ve been tasked to write a piece on cursed villages.”

The man’s smile doesn’t disappear entirely, but it does turn a bit more cordial. “Ah, I see. Well, good luck with that.”

And he moves to walk away.

“Would you know anything about it?” I insist, gently, as I walk up to the fence surrounding his house. He stops. “Why people call this particular village cursed?”

He doesn’t turn around, he just throws me an apologetic look over his shoulder. “Sorry, never been one for wives tales.”

“That’s alright,” I rush to say, wanting for this not to be unpleasant for him. “Have a good day.”

The man waves and goes back inside.

I grit my teeth before I turn around to face the rest of the team.

“Now what?” Bane asks, and by the way he’s looking at me, I know he’s only getting firmer in his opinion on this — that I’m getting myself in trouble and that I’m doing it over nothing.

Then again, I’m still under the impression of my opinions on his behavior, so to hell with him.

Besides, Alaric and Raven are here to help me, not have me waste their time.

And there’s this heaviness in the air that’s making it hard for me to breathe, so without wanting to, I just stay silent.

“Why don’t you take the lead, Anna?” Raven asks with gentleness in her voice. ”We can walk around and see if there’s anything that catches your eye.”

“Yeah,” I say with a nod, desperately grabbing onto the idea. “That’s exactly what we’ll do. Thanks.”

I start walking, the three of them trailing me in silence as we start passing house after house, only some still in use, and by the looks of it, it’s mostly old people.

The goddamn air, I think as I keep my eyes peeled on anything that might stand out. Why is the air in this place so thin and heavy at the same goddamn time?

It makes me frown and slow down, when it becomes even thinner. I look up only for my vision to immediately blur, this vague image of a barren spot of land flashing before my eyes before they settle on what’s in front of me, an old stone bridge connecting one part of the village with another.

I come to a stop, gulping as Bane comes to frown at me with a question in his eyes.

“There,” I say in a low voice, lifting my hand to point at the bridge. “That’s where we need to go.”

“You alright?” he asks.

“I’m fine.”

As soon as we step foot on the bridge, the stream almost soundlessly running below, I feel my emotions get heightened to a point that’s completely unbearable.

It’s even more amplified by the feeling of something awful nestling inside my chest, the filth of the place I’m standing on seeping into my very bones.

Then there’s the flicker followed by the shadows creeping across my vision, just like there was back in Norway. My breathing starts to get shallow even before I hear the already familiar deep, male drawl boom inside my head, “So romantic, that you’d come looking for me again. But don’t worry…” It stops, making me hold my breath as my entire body starts to tremble. When it sounds again, it’s a self-satisfied whisper. “If you don’t find me, my darling, I’ll find you.”

The voice and the words make my body swell with so much rage, it renders me blind for a moment. I feel I’m about to break somehow, and it’s going to be bad, unless I find a way to get in control, fast.

“You don't look fine to me, Novak,” I hear Bane say just as whips of electricity start shooting out of my entire body.

Whips I can't control. Whips that could potentially hurt my friends.

So I don’t answer. I force myself to focus and remember the stuff that helps me in these kinds of situations. What was that damn thing about control?

Gaining, losing... You can’t gain it unless you first lose it.

“Anna?” Raven calls out, but I can’t seem to force myself to pay any attention to the world around me.

I start flexing my fingers, feeling the electricity coursing through my veins and trying to make it run the course I want it to run.

It only makes it grow more out of control.

I hear Bane’s dead serious voice boom from behind me. “Three seconds to stop this, Novak, that’s how long you have before I make you.”

He's right, my wolf's voice booms. You're going to get yourself hurt.

Neither of them manage to stop me from letting it flood me.

You can’t gain control unless you first lose it.

Taking a big, desperate breath of air, I first fix my eyes on a tree on the other side of the bridge, then I close them shut and let the current swell as much as it wants to.

Blinding, the pain is blinding, and it feels as if I'm going to implode.

Then it passes and I open my eyes and I see whips of electricity hitting just the spot I wanted them to hit, cutting a couple of branches off.

There’s a moment of silence before I breathe a sigh of relief, leaning forward with a hand on my stomach, but as soon as I do, I sense Bane march up to me, grabbing me by the upper arm as he commands, “Yeah, we’re leaving.”

“No,” I say with a shake of my head.

“There’s nothing here,” he grits out as he gets in my face. “And you seem too eager to get hurt.”

I don’t know if it’s a smart decision, since we’re already here and everything, but I don’t trust myself in this place, so I just say, “Fine, have it your way.”

Alaric and Raven both throw me sympathetic glances when I turn around and start walking back.

Yeah, it’s better this way. I can’t fucking stand being in this place.

But then there’s this low, rumbling sound that makes me slow to a stop, my blood curdling in my veins.

Slowly, I turn around, seeing the others looking in the same direction. There’s nothing perceptibly different about the solitary bridge in front of us.

It’s more of a feeling of something crawling, fast and from all directions, straight towards us. It’s invisible and powerful like the breath of death itself.

The next thing I know, the bridge is splitting in half and there’s this thing lifting from the depths of the chasm.

I frown. A bone?

My eyes round. A rib.

My mind buzzing and drowning out all the sounds, I see Bane shift and come to land between us and the bridge. I can tell that Alaric is shouting, “What the hell is going on?” But that pain is setting my body on fire again and I see everything around me explode in light, before it turns pitch black.

Then there it is, hitting me like a wave.

The knock.

***

I’m standing in the doorway, looking into a dark cottage. There are smells of spices hanging low in the air, and there’s something nudging me forward, a need to make things right. I tear myself away from the doorway and step deeper into the darkness. There’s a woman there, old, sitting on a stool with her back turned to me.

And she’s not turning around, she just keeps sitting there in silence, but somehow, the more I look at her, the more I know that everything will be alright. She’s the one I’ve come to ask for help, to wash the blood off my hands.

But when I try to get closer, my body stays where it is. I try to will it into moving, dread seeping into my bones when I fail. The image in front of me flickers as if it's about to turn into something else, making my breath catch in anticipation. Then I hear the laugh and everything turns pitch black.

***

I’m in pain, this all-pervasive, dull but foul pain. Half-unconscious, Bane carries me out of the Pull Chamber on castle grounds. He doesn’t stop, he keeps marching in the direction of the Elevator. I struggle to open my eyes.

“What do you think is wrong with her?” I hear Alaric ask with concern in his voice.

“Just keep moving,” Bane growls at him.

I don’t see any of them, I’m huddled in his arms, but I can hear the sound of a cane against stone.

Finally, I open my eyes and I see Bane stopping to let Serra take a look at me. “She’ll be fine,” she says with a frown.

We keep walking, Serra’s footsteps joining the other three pairs.

“What did you do?” Serra comes to whisper in my ear in a voice that betrays this desperation I’ve never heard in it before. I sense Bane tense up, but he doesn’t say anything.

She pauses before she adds, in an even lower voice, “There are over ten people dead in that village, Anna.”

Pain and regret sear through me.

“Alright, that’s enough,” I hear Bane mercilessly cut her off. “What’s done is done.”

They all keep walking to the Elevator, but I can no longer hear or see anything, that’s how much my tears blind me and the sound of my own heartbeat drowns out all the other sounds.

Chapter 29

It’s been more than two weeks since we went to Kinwick. It’s eleven PM on a beautiful May night and there are no other students except for me in the Library. I keep sitting here in desolation, flipping pages with a bunch of materials I haven’t even touched yet scattered across the table before me.

It startles me, when my phone pings and I see it’s a text from Alaric. “Come hang out before you turn in.”

For a second, I consider accepting the invitation and transforming from a tortured Library troll into a normal student who hangs out with her friends and talks about the exams. But despite Bane’s entire routine thing working wonders, I’m still so devastatingly tired, numb and restless at the same time.

There’s the fact that I’m not any closer to shifting than I was two weeks ago.

There’s the fact that I can’t seem to figure out the goddamn ritual no matter what I do.

There’s the fact that we’re not any closer to figuring out where the third piece of Baldur is buried, knowing only that two have already been awoken and that one of them was the rib.

And then…

Then there are the eyes of that sweet old man haunting every moment of my existence, my mind adding to the torture by trying to picture the remaining twelve of the thirteen dead Kinwick residents.

Instead of wallowing in guilt, I decide to do exactly what I’d been doing for the past two weeks — use all the emotions to push myself even harder.

“There’s nothing I’d like more in this world right now,” I reply to Alaric, “but I don’t have a single minute to spare. You two enjoy yourselves.”

Hopeless, it rings in my ears. But I go back to my work, going through lists and lists of symbols, trying to find either one or three squiggly lines among them.

Give me something, please, I tell the old tome.

But the only squiggly lines that ever appear are said to symbolize water.

No, it can’t be. What would fucking water have to do with it?

I look up from the book to stare ahead, thinking. Maybe it just signifies the medium through which the ritual is conducted.

No, you’ve had that idea already and no, it doesn’t work.

Maybe… I flip back to the page talking about the basics of performing rituals. Interpretation, gathering materials, execution… And there’s the conclusion, in which the author is talking about the difficulties in each of the three steps. Interpretation… Some rituals can’t be properly interpreted because everything can be done in countless different ways and if the knowledge is lost...

Then it hits me. Maybe, just maybe I’m going about it the wrong way, presuming this is a ritual that even can be interpreted using existing knowledge.

Yeah, as if I haven’t already had revelations like this one.

Alright. Still worth a try. I draw a breath to push myself to keep going. If I knew nothing about rituals whatsoever, what would I think about these indecipherable squiggly lines?

There’s one symbol with three of them and one symbol with just one. They’re on the opposite sides of the schematic, breaking the circle of the bloodlines’ symbols in half.

My eyebrows raise and then pull down. No way…

“Increase, decrease,” I mutter to myself.

My eyes rounding, I freeze, stay like that for a second, and then type, “Library, now,” to Alaric.

I keep sitting there, not knowing what to do with the excitement that’s flooding me.

Minutes go by in absolute silence.

“I think I’ve got it,” I say to my friends as soon as they appear from among the bookshelves and walk up to my desk, Raven blinking at me and Alaric frowning.

“What?” he mouths, although there’s no need, as the two of them are already taking their seats around me.

I slide the book closer to them, open on the bookmarked page. “The ritual, what it’s supposed to be. I think I know.”

Raven gives me another blink.

“And?” Alaric asks with bated breath.

With rushed movements, I lean a little forward and trace my finger along the bloodlines’ symbols. “So it really bothered me, why the bloodlines’ symbols are just repeating like this.” With my finger, I draw a line from one squiggly symbol to the other. “But then I came up with a possible interpretation of this set of symbols and it finally hit me.”

And I just keep looking at them with this growing smile on my face, until, after a moment of silence, I realize I haven’t actually said it. “Increase, decrease.”

“Now everything’s crystal clear,” Alaric says with gentle mockery in his voice.

I let out a laugh. “Sorry, let me try again. So if you work through the top symbols from right to left,” I explain, “you’re increasing the central symbol’s power. If you work through the bottom symbols from left to right, you’re decreasing it.”

“Um,” Alaric says, but with genuine interest, “say what again?”

It makes my heart pound, the very thought that I could be right. It’s in a low, excited voice that I say, “It’s a ritual for blocking Baldur’s power.”

Alaric’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh.”

“Yeah, I know,” I say, leaning back in my chair with a smug smile on my face.

Raven just looks at the symbols for a second. “But how do you…”

“Yeah, I don’t know exactly what to do,” I reply, turning serious. “But I need to find three items, three spells, or three separate rituals even, representing the three bloodlines.”

***

As usual, what shocks me out of sleep the next morning is the buzzing of my very own demon bracelet. I groan, pushing myself up in my bed just as my phone starts ringing on the nightstand.

“Urgent meeting,” a cold, serious voice sounds from the other side.

Lorcan.

Frowning, I hear him hang up and pull my phone away from my ear with this fear flooding my body.

I spring out of my bed and rush to the secret order room, finding Alaric and Raven already standing in front of the door. As soon as she spots me, Alaric opens it, the three of us exchange nods and walk inside, finding Lorcan standing next to his chair, waiting.

Where’s Bane with my coffee?

No, Anna, focus.

“What is it?” I ask as I walk up to the table.

Lorcan motions for me to take a seat — I’ve noticed he hates talking while people are just standing around. But this also means nothing really bad has happened. Otherwise he’d say something straight away.

All three of us take our seats. In silence, I watch Lorcan follow suit and slide a piece of paper down the table to me. A meadow with a cross sticking out of the ground.

“We need you to take a look at this photo, Miss Novak,” he says.

I do, my eyebrows immediately pulling down. “I… do feel something.” I look up at him. “Is that the third spot?”

“Obviously we don’t know yet, do we?”

“Oh quit antagonizing the girl, Lorcan,” I hear Serra’s voice boom from behind me and I crane my neck to watch her enter. “When will you finally realize that last one wasn’t her fault?”

“She was being reckless,” Lorcan grits out as we watch her walk over to the table, “refusing to understand a very simple, very important fact.” He makes a point of not looking at me. “That there are some decisions you simply don't come back from.”

I sense Alaric and Raven stirring, probably to defend me, but I throw them both a pleading look, stopping them from interfering. After all, I deserve no defense whatsoever.

Serra takes her seat, letting out a sigh. “How could she have known her very presence would cause the second piece to come to life?”

“Dozens of people died, Serra,” Lorcan insists.

“Yeah, they died,” she replies matter-of-factly, “and there’s nothing we can do about it now.”

I grit my teeth, forcing myself not to fall into the guilt and self-pity trap.

“That’s right,” I cut in, making everyone’s eyes snap to me as it finally hits me. Why would I try to figure out the whole ritual thing on my own when I could just ask? I just need to be careful not to raise any red flags. “But there’s something the two of you can do. I’m this close to strengthening the bond with my wolf enough to shift.”

Are you? my wolf growls mockingly. I didn’t get the memo.

“Shut up please,” I tell her. Still, it makes my lips curl into a smile, how clear it's becoming to me — that she's not exactly telling the truth when she says she doesn't care about me.

“What do you need?” Lorcan asks with a squint. “Now, if it’s yet another request to access the Restricted Sections—”

“It’s not.”

He looks at me for a second. “Then ask and we’ll give it to you.”

My eyebrows shoot up. That easy, huh? “I need a way to represent all three bloodlines in a single ritual.”

I sense Alaric and Raven shooting me looks, while both Lorcan and Serra frown. “What would you need that for?” Lorcan asks.

Just stick with the idea, I tell myself. It’s in a nonchalant voice that I say, “I’m having trouble with my shifter part, right? But if I got to somehow visualize and connect with the other parts of myself—”

Lorcan cuts me off with a sigh. “How many times do you need to be told—”

“I won’t be able to awaken any of the other powers until I’ve mastered shifting,” I finish his sentence, impatiently. “No, I get that. I just think it will increase my chances of doing shifting properly.”

Alaric adds, “You know, to take a step back and look at the bigger picture.”

I throw him a grateful smile.

Lorcan and Serra exchange a look. “Makes sense,” Serra says.

But it’s only when Lorcan doesn’t say no, grumbling instead, that I feel that I’ve won this round. I’m having trouble suppressing the smile. “Well?” I ask, eager to get to it.

“Unfortunately,” Serra says with a sigh, “it’s not possible.”

I frown. “What do you mean?”

“I mean,” she starts with a slow shake of her head, “a ritual is a kind of language, right?”

My frown growing deeper, I say, “Right.”

“Every bloodline has its own. Can a shifter speak in a vampire’s language, or a fae in a shifter’s?”

“Um, no.”

“The three don’t mix. Since it’s only shifters speaking shifter language, vampires speaking vampire and faes speaking fae…”

I nod, saying, “Why would a shifter need a word denoting shifting?”

“Or how could they say something that means vampire or fae?” Serra continues.

My heart sinks. “I see.”

“The only being that we know of that could use all three ritual languages is the Aurora,” Serra explains. “But the rest of us don’t speak that language, and we have nothing passed on from the Aurora herself.”

“Perfect,” I say with a bitter smile.

She presses her lips tight. “I’m sorry I can’t be of more help.”

I do something between a shake and a nod. “Are we done?” I ask, and in my mind, I’m already back at the Library, continuing the grueling work.

“Actually, we’re not,” Lorcan says with a smirk. “You’re all going to help sift information on the third piece’s possible locations.”

And he gestures at the piles of papers on the table in the far right corner of the room. “Should all be done in a jiffy.”

“Come on,” I say, “you’re not being serious. That’s all stuff we’ve already gone through.”

“Well, maybe we missed something.”

And I think it’s new information we should be chasing, but I choose to keep my mouth shut. “Fine,” I say as I get up to go grab the first stack, Alaric and Raven following suit.

Raven seems to already be diving into it, while Alaric throws me a sympathetic smile. I give one back, shaking my head to say it’s alright.

I guess I’ll spend the next gods know how many hours rereading reports and articles on and from mostly Northern, Western and central Europe. As if that narrows it down by a lot. Warsaw, London, Oslo, Copenhagen, I could go on and on, listing the places we’ve sifted through already.

It’s just as I return to the table to start the work that I get a need to look over my shoulder. I spot Bane enter the room and everything else seems to disappear. There’s something different about him — a grumpy look on his face, disheveled hair, shirt that’s not buttoned all the way up.

“Oh, good of you to join us, Bane,” Lorcan grumbles. “Just in time for the real work. That must make you so happy.”

“Ecstatic,” Bane says flatly as he approaches the table.

I’m already reaching out my hand to take the coffee, when I realize he’s not holding one. It throws me off, but I quickly lower my hand.

“Morning everyone,” he says. We lock eyes as he walks around me to get to his chair. He seems to have come straight from bed, that’s what’s different about him. It makes this need explode inside me, to wake up next to him.

What snaps me out of it is watching him walk past his usual chair — the one next to mine — and taking the seat next to Alaric.

I watch him lean to ask my friend, “What’re we doing exactly?”

For a second, I just keep staring at him in this vague confusion.

Then he looks up at me and I quickly lower my eyes, the confusion in me only growing.

My mind wants to linger on it all, but I force myself to shift my focus onto the papers in front of me.

***

It’s tiresome work, what we’re doing. We’re all doing it in silence, everyone except for Bane and Alaric, who for some reason have been buddies ever since Kinwick. The two of them keep whispering stuff to each other, letting out little chuckles that burst every bubble of concentration I manage to envelop myself in.

It doesn’t help that I’m finding myself feeling cold to the bone — as if all the warmth has been sucked out from the world around me. I keep glancing at him even when the two of them aren’t being disruptive — my mind buzzing in search of potential reasons for this change in behavior.

Could he be mad about something?

It’s all driving me so crazy, I end up taking my phone out of my pocket and pulling up our chat. I skim the last interaction I had with him before this, looking for clues.

I frown. It was just me asking if we could skip training for a week or so. He was proving to be a distraction and I felt I should just put a pause on it for the time being, giving him my exhausting list of obligations as the reason for doing so.

And he did make a point of letting me know he was against me doing all this in the first place, but that was basically him saying he couldn’t care less, in a manner very typical of him. There’s nothing else I can think of that he could be mad about.

So what’s all this now?

I hear him shift in his seat and I can’t help but steal another glance. I look away, but I think I see him catch it.

No, he didn’t, I’m making stuff up.

Can I give you some advice? my wolf’s voice booms inside my head.

I smile. “So you’re only willing to do it when no one’s asked you? Figures.”

And I know I didn’t make her angry, but she does stay silent. I imagine her quirking an eyebrow at me.

“Yes,” I rush to say, “give me any advice you want to give me. Please.”

Either stop glancing at him every three seconds like some teenage girl, or leave and have him come with you.

“Yeah,” I mutter, “I don’t know if I should be doing that anymore.”

Really? she asks, sounding genuinely intrigued. Why is that?

I hesitate for a second, throwing another glance at Bane, which he definitely catches this time. “I feel he might be… a bad influence.”

Bad influence? she echoes. There’s suspicion in her voice. How exactly are you letting him influence you?

“It’s just… Sure, he could be extraordinary, if only his heart was in the right place. It’s not though, which makes him less than suitable company for someone with my values. Besides, I knew all along that this will have an expiration date.”

I see. Then do whatever you want.

It makes me frown. “Is that it? That’s your advice? Do whatever you want.”

There's a moment of silence before she says, Seems to be the only piece of advice you ever take into account.

And with that, she disappears.

I have to fight not to let out a scoff. I try to go back to work, but the words on the papers in front of me refuse to come into focus.

Especially when he clears his throat, and with the corner of my eye, I see him toss one stack of papers to the side and grab another, leaning back in his chair and rolling his sleeves up.

Before I can stop myself, I look up, and I find him skimming the papers with a pen in his hand and a serious look on his face. It’s all so sexy — the way his eyebrows are pulled down a little, the shape of his lips, the curve of his collarbone showing under the shirt, that maddeningly deft way in which he spins the pencil around his fingers — that I simply can’t look away.

The next thing I know, he’s looking up, his eyebrows shooting up a little as he locks eyes with me, making me realize I’m still staring.

For a second, we look at each other. To try to save face, I throw him a smile and go back to staring at my papers. I feel his eyes linger on me, but I don’t look up again.

Instead, I imagine dragging him to my room instead of having sex with him at the gym as usual, wondering what that would be like. It wouldn’t be quick for sure, like it never is with him, except those few times we hooked up in random places and almost ended up getting caught. But in my room… we wouldn’t have to worry about anyone interrupting.

I frown when I realize I’m still thinking about this instead of working.

It’s fine. I’m just a little wound up, I tell myself. After all, a week is by far the longest I haven’t had sex since that first real training session with him.

I contemplate getting up and taking my work elsewhere, when I hear him get out of his chair. This time, I force myself not to even glance in his direction.

Then I hear him clear his throat and say, “Alright, people, time to wrap things up.”

Now that makes me look up, my eyebrows shooting up.

“We’re done when I say we’re done, Bane,” Lorcan warns.

Bane throws him a forced smile. “Scorpio is in Mercury today,” he says. “Miss Novak has an excellent opportunity to establish a better connection with her wolf this afternoon. Unless… You want her to miss it.”

“Of course we don’t,” Serra says.

Excitement floods me.

I turn to look at Lorcan, who’s thinking. “Fine,” he finally replies. “We’ll continue this tomorrow, seven AM sharp.”

Everyone starts getting up to leave. I get out of my chair as well. And I’m still under the impression of Bane’s weird behavior, but this is important, so I push all my shit aside, I turn to look at him and I say, “Let’s go. You can walk me through it on the way to the gym.”

“We won’t be needing the gym for this,” he replies as he pushes his chair back under the table.

“Good luck, Anna,” I hear Raven say and I look over my shoulder to wave to her and Alaric just as they disappear through the door and shut it behind them.

I turn to face Bane again, finding him walking around the table to where I’m standing.

“You sure you want us to do it here?” I ask, my eyebrows pulling down when I see how intently he’s looking at me.

“So serious,” he teases in his bedroom voice, the contrast to how he’d ignored me throwing me off a little.

Maybe it was all in my head, and even if it wasn’t… I don’t care. I just want to hear him say more stuff to me in that tone. I find myself walking over to him with my arms folded and an eyebrow quirked. “Why? What would you like me to be?” I ask in a teasing, sultry voice.

He lets out a scoff, but there’s a flash of hunger in his eyes. “Two things,” he starts as he pulls my hands away from my chest and presses my core to himself with an arm around my waist. “One, wearing a lot less than this.” He locks eyes with me, the deft fingers of his free hand making my breath hitch as they start work on unbuttoning my shirt. “Two, looking at me like you did during the whole meeting.”

Meeting. Opportunity. Fuck.

Forcing myself to refocus, I pry his fingers away just as they start sliding under the shirt, cupping my breast. “We might not have a lot of time, you know better than I do how time-sensitive these things can be,” I say.

He just hums, his eyes fixed on my lips as he moves in for a kiss.

“No, I need you to stop,” I say, trying my best to sound firm and ignore the gnawing need for him in the pit of my stomach.

His lips come to hover in front of mine just before he whispers, “You mean, you need me, period.”

The words… They make me clam up, instantly and completely. I raise my palms to his shoulders and push him away.

I turn my back to him so he can’t see the discomfort on my face and I fold my arms. “You said we’d be making a breakthrough this afternoon,” I insist, trying not to sound too cold.

I sense him get closer. “Yeah, we will be,” he replies in a smoldering voice. “After a week-long siege, I’m about to penetrate an impenetrable fortress.”

He tries to grab me, but I just duck out of his reach and turn to face him with a frown. “My shifting, Bane. What kind of opportunity were you talking about?”

There’s a moment of silence before I see his jaw clench. He takes a step back. “Nothing in particular,” he says with a shrug, his eyes narrowing at me slightly.

I fold my arms. “So you stopped the meeting because you were bored and wanted to fool around?”

“I did,” he says defiantly. “Why? Were we making progress and I somehow failed to notice it?”

“You know, you should start taking this whole thing more seriously.”

It’s with this bitterness in his voice that he says, “I believe you’re taking it seriously enough for the both of us.”

I frown at him. “Are you actually trying to make me feel stupid for giving my best to stop this psycho from waking up?”

He just looks at me for a second, teeth gritting. Then he smiles, but the smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just saying it’s all you think about these days.”

I blink at him.

Then the old man's eyes flash before my face. Before I even realize what I'm doing, I'm getting in his face, my chest heaving and my jaw clenching. “What should I be thinking about, huh?”

His eyebrows shoot up and he moves to touch me, but I take a step back, my jaw clenching so hard, it hurts. “Let’s see, on one hand, there’s my outfit for the Grand Ball, on the other…” I fail to stop myself from raising my voice, my face flushing and my nails digging into my palms, “there's the fact that I got actual people killed and will probably end up somehow doing it all over again because I'm a reckless… fucking… idiot.”

By the time I'm done, I'm forcing myself to inhale deeply, all the while gritting my teeth in an effort not to lose my shit completely. I barely register the look of surprise on his face before he comes to look me in the eye with this super intense look on his face. “You shouldn't talk to yourself that way,” he says under breath.

“Really? Well, that was me being kind,” I say forcefully as I take a step back and fold my arms. “Because everything I just said is true, so you need to stop making me out to be a fool simply for trying to fix my mistakes and make sure I don't repeat them.”

I watch him grit his teeth, then get in my face, smoothing out his features. “Spending all your waking hours stressing about it won’t get you anywhere.”

I just stare at him for a second. I can’t believe this shit. It’s people’s lives he’s willing to gamble with here.

“You know what?” I finally say. “I don’t have time for…” I make a face. “This.” And I start straight for the door. “I’m going back to the Library.”

There's a moment of silence before he snaps, “Fine, I couldn’t care less.”

I crane my neck to throw daggers at him. “Yeah, it’s in that department that you seem the most reliable.”

I push through the door and slam it behind me.

***

I’m lying on my bed, my feet on the wall and my eyes fixed on a crack in the ceiling, trying to figure out how to make the ritual work in almost total silence.

My brain is shit though. I’m not letting myself even think about anything personal, but it doesn’t help. I can barely keep all the information on the surface of my mind, let alone make any connections or draw conclusions.

Maybe I should go to bed and try again tomorrow.

When I last checked my watch, it was 23:53. Normally, at this time, I’m already under the covers or at least preparing to get there.

Tonight, the very thought of doing what I normally do makes this defiance burn a hole through my stomach.

Other than that, I barely feel a thing. So I just keep lying there, imagining the symbols and trying to see them come to life somehow.

The next time I glance at my watch, it’s 00:01.

I glance at my phone and see that I have no new texts, even though the light in my room is still on.

What I want to do is grab my phone and throw it at the wall, but I just keep lying there. I pull my knees up and I put my upper arm over my face, this noise filling my ears — the noise of silence and solitude and despair.

The thought is laughable to say the least. That it’s me who’s supposed to protect everyone ever from some guy who sounds like the incarnation of both power and evil.

The old man, dead.

Raven, dead.

Alaric, dead.

I choose not to think about anyone else.

I feel the wet glide of tears down my cheeks, but they bring no relief. Without a conscious decision, I imagine the patterns of my Aurora tattoos and start drawing them with my finger, on my palms, my forearms, my chest.

It’s at that moment that the sound of footfalls drifts up to me, making my ears prick up.

I know this walk.

Frowning, I get up, quickly wipe my tears off and walk over to the door, opening it softly. I was right, he’s right here, standing in front of my room with his hands in his pockets and his eyes narrowed at me. The look makes me feel as if it’s clear I’ve been crying, but I’m all numb and couldn’t bring myself to care even if I wanted to. 

“Yes?” I ask, trying to make my voice as flat as possible. “Is there something wrong?”

“It’s midnight,” he says as he strolls past me. Into my room. “Time to put you to bed.” 

No, it was one thing to fantasize about this, it’s a whole other to break rules like this. I turn to frown at him, but he just tugs me away from the door, shuts it and turns the key in the lock. 

“I don't need to be put to bed,” I protest.

Clicking his tongue, he shakes his head, lifts a hand into the air and closes it into a fist, surrounding us in complete darkness. I feel his breath on my ear just before I hear a low but firm order, “You don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”

He’s not even touching me, but the darkness, the words and his scent break through the numbness enough to send a thrill down my spine. I forget all about the rules and I move to put my arms around his shoulders, leaning in to inhale him.   

He pulls away, making me lower my hands with a frown. I find myself having to look around in complete darkness, sensing him slowly circling me, observing without being observed.

My skin pricks and my breathing turns shallower.

It makes me freeze, when I feel the heat of his body draw near. “Hold your hands out,” he orders in a low voice. 

My breath held and my heart racing, I obey, hearing the sound of him unbuckling and sliding the belt out of his pants. 

Before I know it, he’s tied my wrists together and is pulling my arms over my head, this soft clang of metal against wood sounding from the ceiling before I feel the belt get yanked upwards. 

My feet are still touching the ground, but I find myself breathlessly hanging off the low wooden beam in my room, in complete darkness and with his hand coming to wrap around my nape. He tugs my head closer to him and I feel a slow lick along my cheek, one then the other, the tongue wiping the salt of my tears away.

I lean to steal a kiss, but he pulls away and I sense him get on his knees in front of me, his hands slowly and deliberately sliding my pajama bottom and my panties off my legs until they’re pooled around my feet. It makes the coil in the pit of my stomach tighten, when I feel the intensity of his gaze sweeping up my body.

Gods.  

“You've been such a bad girl lately,” he says in a low, scolding voice as he gently takes my foot off the ground, makes me bring my thigh to my stomach and presses a kiss into the arch of my sole. It makes me shudder when the kiss turns into a little bite. “Do you know why?”

He’s trailing these kisses and bites up my foot, the curve of my shin, the dip of my knee, straightening and lifting my leg as he goes and making me long for that intense attention of his touch and his eyes to get to my thighs. 

He stops and I feel his scolding gaze fix on my face, making me snap out of it. “How the hell should I know?” I protest.

“Oh you will before I’m through with you,” he sneers and dips his head to keep trailing kisses along my thigh, making me shudder with pleasure.

I let out a scoff, but the scoff turns into a shaky breath when he puts my leg down and moves to my stomach, using his teeth to pull at the flesh under my navel, his hands starting slow, diligent work on unbuttoning my pajama top. “So unusual,” he murmurs, “for such a know-it-all to disappoint like that.”

“Yeah,” I ask breathlessly, “how exactly?”

All my buttons undone, I feel him get to his feet even before I see his shifted eyes right in front of me. He threads his fingers through my hair and pulls my head back. “How many times do you think I caught you staring today?” he demands as his eyes narrow at me. 

My breath catches.

“And how many times do you think I didn’t?” he asks as his free hand slides up my stomach and comes to cup my breast, the thumb playing with the nipple in that way that always makes my eyes flutter shut, heat pooling between my legs.

He leans to breathe down my neck, “You think you know when you’re being noticed, don’t you?”

Still keeping my hair pulled back with one hand, he grips my waist with the other and lowers his head to take my breast in his mouth, making me let out a shaky moan when his tongue starts flicking over the nipple. 

He looks up to ask, “You think you know what is being noticed, don’t you?” He sucks my nipple into his mouth, making me grimace with pleasure as I feel myself get wet.

“When, in fact…” He straightens, takes my neck in his hand again and dips his head to softly drag his teeth down my jawline. “You know nothing, isn’t that right?”

“Some things I do,” I manage to say as he gives my neck a languid sweep of his tongue from the base up.

He tugs on my earlobe with his teeth and asks, “Like what?”

My lips curl into a smile. “Like, when you’re hard,” I say as I lift my leg to rub my thigh against his crotch.

“Yeah?” he grits out, pulling my head back even more as he slides his fingers inside me, making me bite back a moan. I don’t see him, but it’s in a voice dripping with smugness that he whispers into my ear, “Soaking wet.”

“Arrogant,” I say breathlessly.

He runs his fingers up and down my swollen clit, making me have to fight not to squirm with pleasure. “Desperate,” he whispers forcefully. 

“Delusional,” I protest as I try to pull myself away from him.

Letting go of my hair, he grabs onto my ass and pulls me tight against him. “Voluptuous,” he grits out. “No word like it. Voluptuous,” he enunciates with a pop around the p. “Say it,” he demands with all the intensity of his gaze fixed on my mouth.

I grit my teeth. “Vexing,” I snap.

He just stares at me for a second, then takes a surprisingly precise bite of my Cupid’s bow, making me let out something between a wince and a moan. 

“How about…” He lets go of my waist and walks around me, pressing my ass into his crotch and forcefully sliding his hands up my back. He leans to whisper in my ear, “Fucked senseless? Do you like that?” 

The words make me feral. “Yeah. That, do that.”

“Yeah?” he asks as he gets on his knees, trailing those kisses up the backs of my thighs. He cups my ass with both hands and gets his head under to take a bite out of the flesh right in the dip next to my throbbing core. 

It makes me almost cry out and then grit my teeth for fear of being heard in the adjoining rooms. 

“And who do you want inside you, hm?” Then he slides his fingers inside me, making my mind go blank with desire. “Who does this belong to?”

“You,” I say in a shaky voice, “belongs to you.”

“That’s right,” he says as he gets up, lowers his pants and grabs onto my waist with one hand, making me cry out for real when I feel him start sliding himself up and down my slit. “Now do you finally know why you’ve been such a bad girl?”

I shake my head vigorously. “Yeah.” 

“Yeah you do,” he comes to murmur in my ear, his chest pressed against my back, “denying me what’s mine, you know I can’t have that?”

“I know.”

I hear him mumble something as he pushes himself inside me and starts thrusting, my spine arching with pleasure and my muscles clenching as I fail to muffle my moans.

“That’s more like it,” he rasps as he keeps thrusting, only pausing to give my back, my shoulders and my nape slow licks and languid but forceful bites.

Then he pulls out a little and angles me so when he gets back inside me, I feel him deeper than ever before. I turn my head to the side and bite into my shoulder to muffle another cry.

“No no,” he warns in a ragged voice as he slows down, leaning to grit in my ear, “no muffling, no biting back, I want to hear every single moan, you understand me?”

“Uh-huh.”

The next cry I don’t suppress. I just let it out and he mumbles a few curses as he goes back to slamming himself inside me, leaning to bite me on the neck just as he starts coming. Feeling what it does to him only makes my own hunger grow. For a moment, he stays with his face pressed to my back, then pulls out, unties me and carries me to my bed, all swollen with desire, with my arms around his shoulders and legs around his waist.

“You’re being so good,” he murmurs as he lays me down and gets between my legs. “You know how good you’re being?”

Flushed, I shake my head for yes. I thread my fingers through his hair and he starts dragging his tongue all over me, making all my muscles clench and my hips buck. 

“Now I’m going to let you come,” he whispers. “Would you like that?”

I grit my teeth. “Yes,” I say on a shaky exhale.

He slides his fingers inside me and starts pushing them in and out. “Tell me you need it,” he says, all breathless.

“Please,” I hear myself say.

He pulls his fingers out. “You mean, please stop?” he demands in a ragged voice. “Because I told you what you have to say to get what you want.”

“No, don’t stop,” I plead, delirious with anticipation, “I’m begging you, Jericho, I need it so bad.” 

“Fuck,” he groans just before I feel his tongue on me and his fingers inside me again and he starts taking me over the edge, making the already unbearable tension inside me swell even more, before it snaps and pleasure comes crashing down on me with such intensity, it feels like being shot out of my body to float in boundless space, blissfully empty-headed.

“Such a good girl,” I hear his voice drift to me as if through water. “My perfect little she-wolf.”

As I float, countless stars blossom in the deep deep darkness all around me, slowly spinning around me, some close some far, some cold some warm. It starts dawning on me, the possibility that maybe I don’t need anything but myself for that thing I was worried about before.

Whatever it was.

Chapter 30

It’s with a decadent murmur that I start stirring from sleep. I frown at the absence of sound. Then there’s a violent flutter of butterflies in my stomach when I remember it was in his arms that I fell asleep. But when I reach out my hand to feel for his body, I find nothing.

I fling my eyes open only to see I’m alone in my bed. My heart sinks. Did I imagine the whole thing?

Of course I didn’t. It’s unmistakable, his lingering scent in my bed.

It’s then that I spot the note on my nightstand. I push myself up and grab it.

“I’m letting you sleep in,” it says in his barely legible yet confident handwriting. “Text me when you wake up and we’ll talk training.”

For one long moment, I just look at the note. So formal. So matter of fact. So… Bane.

My breathing turns unsteady when it all comes rushing through the barriers, all the things I’ve spent the whole of yesterday trying to block.

At the meeting, while he was nonchalantly ignoring me, I was obsessing over possible reasons as to why he might be doing that while at the same time drooling over him.

After he cut the meeting short, I never even called him out on this — I was just too busy rushing out of the freezing cold of his indifference and into the comforting warmth of his attention.

Of course, this goes way way back, too. When he helped me with my first gift, it wasn’t him who initiated anything. I literally crawled on top of him while he was probably like, what the hell is this woman doing.

Every single thing that I remember makes my breathing that much shallower.

Still, nothing knocks the air out of my lungs as much, nothing burns as much, nothing rips me apart as much as that thing he said to me yesterday, the words now stuck on a loop inside my head.

Because it's one thing to make me beg for it or even treat me like property during sex — that's just having fun and going with the flow. But I mean…

“You need me, period.” Then, to make it worse, insist on it later.

Bitterness floods my mouth. There are some things you just do not say to a person unless the intent is to humiliate.

Swept up in a sudden, violent anger, I put my feet down, get off the bed and try to take the bracelet off. When I fail, I make a tiny whip slither out of my finger, I wrap it around the bracelet and snap it in half, watching it fall to the ground.

Then I stomp over to my closet, where I fling the door open to scowl at my reflection in the mirror with the words from the note now ringing in my head.

He wants me to text him when I wake up? The fucking arrogance.

I have no reason whatsoever to text him, simply because I don’t need either him or any of his controlling shit.

Last night, you had a revelation, I tell myself as I keep staring at my reflection. That’s all you’re allowed to think about right now. You’ll go for a little walk and you’ll try to find answers for the ritual.

Fuming but determined, I slam the closet door shut, pull on my shoes, grab my tote and storm out of my room.

***

I go for a grumpy walk around the castle grounds, ending up in the Entrance Hall. I’ve no idea what exactly I’m looking for, but I’m hoping that the sights or the smells or the sounds will set things in motion in my head.

Last night, it occurred to me, however vaguely, that I might not need anything except myself to figure this out. I’m the Aurora after all. As the Aurora, I should be able to know what it is that I’m looking for when I come across it. If nothing, by feeling.

I walk over to the statue of Zahra, figuring it might give me a hint as to the fae element. The first Pied Piper ever is standing peacefully by the wall, holding the carved Flute in her hand.

It doesn’t stir any particular feelings.

I do the same with the statue of Lilith, the smirk on her face exposing fangs as she holds the three symbols of her House in her palms — the candle, the spindle, the swirl of blood.

Nothing.

Then the statue of Bronwen the Great, his robe lined with the fur of his mighty bear.

Again, nothing.

Despite being alone in public, I let out a dragged-out groan.

Then my eyes get drawn to a shifter guy’s tattoos starting to glow just before he uses his magic to kick himself off the ground and fly up to the gallery.

And it hits me. Maybe I won’t need any items to do the ritual. Maybe I only need to visualize the magic, like I did when I was a kid.

Suddenly invigorated, I start marching back to my room.

***

I get settled in my bed, the book open on the bookmarked page in front of me. I close my eyes, trying to get in the right mindset, when my phone pings and the image of him flashes through my mind, getting me instantly fuming.

When I check my phone, I see it’s a message from Raven. “Hi Anna, are you coming to the mixer tonight?”

Disappointed and angry at the same time, I just type, “I’ve work to do. You two have fun.”

Then, just as I’ve lowered the phone, I remember how much she hates having to pick outfits for these things. “And I’d go for that forest green one if I were you, it’s just formal enough and looks gorgeous on you,” I add and put the phone down again.

I close my eyes again, focusing on visualizing the central symbol first with the intention of blocking its powers.

I don’t think you should be doing this, my wolf’s voice booms.

Frowning, I open my eyes. “Why?”

There’s a second of silence before she says, I don’t know, but you should stop.

My eyebrows shoot up. I’m even angrier now and it’s in a mocking voice that I echo her words. “You don’t know? Fine, yeah. I’ll stop trying to do the only thing I can right now, and I’ll stop because… Well, no reason, huh?”

Fine, have it your way.

Yeah, my way, I say, more to myself, as I try to get back into it.

I visualize the central symbol. Nothing happens.

Then I visualize the feeling of having an animal’s presence inside me.

My emotions get heightened.

I jump straight to visualizing the feeling of using Sight, or at least what I think it would feel like.

The image of him flashes through my mind again, making me so angry, I’m barely keeping myself sitting still.

I’m warning you, my wolf’s voice sounds again. Stop doing that or I’m cutting you off.

But now I’m fuming, and I’m starting to feel sick, too, so I snap at her, “You’re cutting me off?” I let out an angry scoff. “The goddamn audacity,” I say through gritted teeth. “To tell someone you'll be cutting them off, you first need to give something that can be cut off.”

For a moment, there's only charged silence. Then her voice booms again, so brimming with emotions, it makes my eyebrows shoot up. Give something? I gave you everything. In every lifetime we spent together, I gave you everything, and in every lifetime we spent together, you chose to disregard everything I ever tried to teach you because you're just that holier-than-thou, aren't you? Well, now you'll truly be alone.

By the time she's done, my jaw is dropping open and my body is frozen in shock.

Then I feel something sever inside me, something that was a part of my being in such a profound way, I didn't even feel it, like you don't feel your own heart until you focus on its beating.

And now… Now it's no longer there.

For one long moment, I just keep sitting where I'm sitting.

I don’t care, I tell myself. I just keep pushing. I try to visualize the feeling of being as fast as a vampire.

It makes me sick to my stomach, so sick I have to lie back down.

For fuck’s sake, I curse as I stare at the ceiling, the room spinning slowly but nauseatingly around me.

Air, I need some air.

Struggling to push myself up, I get off the bed and open the window. It’s getting dark outside and I imagine students are already gathering in the Main Hall for the networking mixer they throw once the end of the school year starts drawing near.

The nausea clears and I breathe a sigh of relief.

I try to establish the connection with my wolf, to sense her. But there’s this absence that’s a little unsettling. My wolf’s not pleased with me and that’s not good. Not good at all.

Maybe I really need to blow off some steam and take a break from all of this Aurora crap. I guess the mixer could be fun. Raven and Alaric are going, there’ll be lots of alcohol and who knows. Sometimes they even get the music right.

Nah.

Then it hits me, that as a professor, Bane will probably be there as well.

My lips curl into a smile. I walk over to my closet and rummage for my high-heel boots, already busy creating a whole outfit in my head.

I don’t even want to think about the best course for the training sessions. But today, I’m not just letting myself see I don’t need that asshole.

I’m making it clear to the asshole as well.

Chapter 31

I’m wearing my favorite dress, flowy black reaching just under the knee, a light but large scarf with an interesting, colorful print, and my black high-heel boots. There’s this nervousness I’m feeling, but the fit of the clothes gives me a little boost in confidence.

I meet Raven and Alaric in the Main Hall, where there’s already a crowd — people chatting around the elegant high tables, getting their drinks from the bar in the far left corner and buzzing around the room trying to network.

We’re still considered to be outcasts, but the students are no longer going out of their way to ignore us.

To the contrary. While we make our way through the crowd, I see more than one person throw Alaric and me a nod. But I also see quite a few guys checking Raven out.

Of course, it’s not escaped Alaric either, I think with a smile as I watch him rush to grab a cocktail off a passing waiter’s tray. “Raven, look, your favorite.”

She takes the glass in her hand, giving him one of those little smiles of hers. Then, just as we walk past one particularly crowded spot, I see this guy leave the table and head straight towards us, his eyes fixed on her.

“Whoopsie, sorry, bud,” Alaric says when he almost bumps into him, throwing the guy off and waving for us to hurry.

Shaking my head, I rush to catch up with him, but as soon as we’re away from that particular crowd, he stops, making the two of us follow suit. He turns to tell me, “Anna, I’m so glad you’re finally showing you’re not a monster who never needs to relax…”

I quirk an eyebrow at him. “But?”

“Wouldn’t you prefer if we went to play cards in my room?” he asks. He glances around with an awkward chuckle. “I mean, this is all kind of lame, right, Raven?” And with that, he turns to her, waiting.

Raven’s eyebrows shoot up. “You think so?” She glances around and then blinks at him. “I don’t know, I am not entirely sure what kind of feeling ‘lame’ is yet.”

A smile tugs at my lips. “It’s not a feeling, Raven,” I explain with a soft shake of my head. She turns to look at me with curiosity in her eyes. “It’s a quality that things can have, one that causes feelings of boredom or some kind of aversion like contempt.”

“Oh,” she says simply, turning back to Alaric. “Then no, I don’t think this is lame, Alaric.”

“Yeah, no, I meant ironically,” he rushes to say.

“Ironically?” Raven asks.

Now Alaric is getting all flushed and I really don’t want someone stealing Raven from under his nose, so I take a look around and immediately spot a lonely table in the far right corner.

“I have an idea,” I say. They both look at me. “Why don’t the two of you grab a table for us? Look, that one over there, for example.”

Alaric’s eyes light up, making me almost let out a chuckle.

“What about you, Anna?” Raven asks.

“I’m just going to mingle a little.”

I don’t give them time to protest. I turn on my heel and start looking around for Bane. The plan is not to go talk to him. It’s just to be seen having fun like a normal, self-sufficient person.

It makes my eyebrows pull down, when I realize he’s nowhere to be seen.

Now what?

It’s the very next moment that I spot her. Serra, sitting in one of the few chairs they haven’t moved for the occasion. She seems to be immersed in a book, not minding the noise.

Perfect. I’ll nonchalantly make her tell me whether Bane’s even coming to this thing.

“Serra, hi,” I say as I walk up to her. She looks up and throws me a smile, putting her book down.

It’s with a conspiratorial little smile that I ask, “Where’s Professor MacArthur?”

She lets out a chuckle. “I’m happy to say I have no idea. But I also have to say I’m surprised to see you here.”

“I guess I needed a break from everything.”

“Good for you. I’m sure it’ll help speed things up with your wolf.”

Her words leave a sting. “Exactly,” I say with a smile. I can’t resist adding, “And we’re not on good terms right now.”

There’s a flash of concern in her eyes. “No?”

“No,” I reply with a nervous laugh. “In fact, it seems she’s cut off all connection.” And I’m part thinking out loud and part trying to lead the conversation where I want it to go. “But let’s say I took the next week off.” I glance around the room. “Something I’ll need to discuss with Professor Bane, of course, but—”

“A whole week?” she cuts me off. “Another one?”

“Yeah,” I say as I turn my eyes back onto her.

She’s pressing her lips tight.

“What?” I ask.

She hesitates for a second. “I’d just be careful if I were you. You absolutely do need your rest,” she rushes to say, “but it’s not like you’re a student whose only responsibility is to give a couple of exams.”

It’s at that exact moment that my phone pings. A text from Bane. “I’m finding it hard to believe you’re not up yet, Novak.”

I look back at Serra, but I’ve forgotten what we were talking about. “Yeah, Serra, thanks for the advice,” I tell her. “I’m going to go grab a drink now.”

I barely register the look she throws me and the smile she gives me. I just start walking for the bar, my mind buzzing.

So he’s definitely not here.

Distracted, I order a drink and remain standing there until my phone starts buzzing. This time, it’s a call.

I choose not to answer it. People who are busy having fun don’t check their phones a lot, do they?

So I turn on my heel and start looking for familiar faces.

Ah, my former colleague. I walk up to Carrel, throwing a smile on as I ask, “Carrel, long time. What's up?”

“In the name of Lycan, Anna,” he starts with a smile, turning away from the group he’s chatting with. “Where’d you disappear to?”

I sense him even before I see Carrel’s eyes dart to a spot behind my back, his eyebrows shooting up.

I throw a look over my shoulder to see him standing there, looking pissed. “You lost your phone, Novak?” he demands as he throws a scowl at Carrel.

I turn back to my former colleague, saying, “I’ll catch up with you later, alright?”

It’s funny, the look he gives me, but he smiles and nods.

“Yeah, sorry,” I say as I turn to look at Bane. “I forgot to text you. But not to say I’m up,” I rush to explain. “To say I don’t need your help with those things anymore.”

He just looks at me for a second, his eyes darting to my wrist, where there’s no demon bracelet anymore. “Really? Just like that?”

I give him a wide smile. “Yeah, isn’t it great? I don’t feel like crap anymore, I’m making progress on our little project, I’m even finding time to have fun.”

His eyes narrow in that way that makes me feel naked. “Alright, what’s going on?”

I grit my teeth at his insisting on not believing me. But I shrug it off and smile even wider, getting in his face a little to say, “I’m finally getting my shit together, Bane.”

Then, just as I spot Raven and Alaric approaching us, it occurs to me. “In fact,” I tell Bane, motioning at my friends, “the three of us are going out tonight, to celebrate.”

“What up, Jericho?” Alaric says when they come to form a circle with us.

Bane doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Yeah?” he asks, suspicion in his voice. “Where are you going?”

“Going?” Alaric echoes, sounding confused.

“To this party in the Vein,” I rush to say.

“Are we?” Raven asks.

Bane ignores her. “Why don’t I join you?” he asks with a funny little squint. Then, before I can react, he folds his arms and says, “I mean, if celebrations are in order and you’re all so into fun all of a sudden…”

I open my mouth to say thanks, but no thanks. Unfortunately, Alaric beats me to it. “That sounds bloody amazing.”

Bane turns to beam at him. Then he glances around, catching a couple of his groupies’ looks. “And why don’t we take some more people with us while we’re at it?” he says as he turns to smirk at me. “The more, the merrier, right?”

Perfect, I think with gritted teeth.

***

Why oh why did I let this happen, I wonder as I walk with the rowdy little group led by Bane, barely registering the conversation between Alaric and Raven. Was it really just so I wouldn’t have to admit I wasn’t planning on going to some party after all? And now that I’m thinking about it, did I really go to that mixer solely to spitefully show Bane I don’t need his help?

Gods, I think as I register Alaric talking about the history of Bloodholm.

It’s so crowded here and the people out on the streets look either incredibly posh or unambiguously sketchy. Run-down yet somehow majestic, Bloodholm is a gothic town that never sleeps and boasts more seedy streets than some places have, well, streets in general.

“Your first time here, Novak?” Bane asks, throwing a look over his shoulder as he leads us into one of the most dingy alleyways I’ve ever been in.

“It’ll be my first time in the Vein,” I tell him, in a friendly but not engaging way.

He cranes his neck to throw another squint at me, but he doesn’t push anything.

“Mine was in 1939,” I hear Alaric say, and I welcome the opportunity to shift my focus back onto him.

“Just before the War?” I ask, despite knowing this is a touchy subject for him.

He happily nods, throwing a glance at Raven.

“Holy hell,” I say. “What was it like?”

By the time Bane stops in front of an old wooden door with dirty stained glass panels, he’s told us exactly what the Vein used to look like.

I move to the end of the line our little group forms, to take a look at the old sign with the name of the place creaking up in the air.

“The fun is this way,” I hear Bane say and I snap out of it, seeing him standing in the doorway, keeping the door open and gesturing for me to get moving.

I don’t say anything. I just start walking, my behavior these past two days starting to make me feel I should cut my interactions with him to a minimum.

I’ll make an appearance, blend into the crowd and take the first chance to get out of here.

Until I step inside and see the place is almost exactly like Alaric described it — hot, cramped, noisy and dimly lit. There are doors leading into a whole web of other rooms, something psychedelic going on to the left of the old wooden bar and something clubbish to the right. It’s all in black wood and red leather, light reflecting off glass and metal everywhere.

It’s glorious.

Mesmerized, I let the crowd swallow me, making sure I stay behind Alaric, who’s elbowing his way through a group of vampires who are obviously all on something.

Once we find a spot near the bar with drinks in our hands, I let everyone else have fun and take the opportunity to figure out what’s so captivating about this place. Because it’s not just the ambience. There’s magic in these walls. I can feel it.

Pieces of something Alaric’s saying to Raven drifting to my ear, I start glancing around. It’s old, that’s for sure. Alaric did say it was last renovated during the Prohibition.

Slowly, I completely stop registering the people around me and move out of our circle. There are things conflicting inside me — this sadness about my wolf going silent on me again, with this excitement at the very thought of actually dropping the whole Aurora stress for the time being. It doesn’t hurt that, by doing the latter, I could maybe fix the former.

Maybe, just maybe, I could be a regular student for a moment, I think as I walk past a group of girls chanting something as they throw glowing pink shots back.

It makes me blow a laugh through my nose. I down my own drink and walk up to the bar, slamming the glass on the sticky wooden surface, throwing the energetic bartender a grin and ordering a blood gin.

I’m on my third one, and I’m leaned on the bar, admiring the gargoyles carved into the wall above, when I sense him come to stand next to me. “I heard this guy say they used to weep actual blood tears.”

I turn to look at him, finding him leaning against the bar with a scotch in his hand. That seems to be his favorite drink. “Interesting,” I say, trying to be as flat as possible so as not to engage him too much.

He throws me a suspicious look. Then his gaze drops to my scarf and he lets out a scoff before he tips his chin at it and asks, “Aren’t you hot in that monstrosity?”

So clever, he thinks he is. I just look at him for a second, my lips curling into a smirk. “Actually, I am,” I say as I grab onto one end of the silky thing and slide it off my neck, revealing the real reason for the scarf — the fact that my favorite dress has a cleavage a little too plunging for an affair like the Academy mixer. Especially given what I’m working with.

His eyes dart down and back up, locking with mine. I raise my eyebrows at him mockingly, but he seems to be at a loss for words at the moment. It all makes me want to laugh a smug laugh, but this is getting too close to flirting, so I just smile, grab my glass and move to go back to our group.

He rushes to block my way. “Why don’t you help me with something, Novak,” he says in a low, serious voice.

I take a step back, raising my eyebrows.

“Why don’t you tell me why you’re still choosing to be such a little liar?”

I laugh. “What am I lying about?”

He gets in my face, his eyes narrowing at me. “Everything. All the time.”

For a second, I just look at him. Then I laugh again. “You know, by the time you get to your point,” I say as I swirl the drink in my hand, “I might be too drunk to get it.”

He ignores this. “You say you don’t need my help anymore, but there’s something you’re not telling me. All the while, you’re pretending everything’s fine, which is an asshole move.”

Damn it. He’s got a point.

“Fair enough,” I say as I lean back on the bar. I take a deep breath. “Look, I’m grateful for all your help. But I don’t want it anymore because I don’t like relying on others more than absolutely necessary.”

“Why?” he asks, very seriously.

The question throws me off. I frown. “What do you mean why? Neither do you.”

“What did they do to break you?” he insists matter-of-factly.

What the… “No one broke me,” I say with an awkward laugh.

“Everyone is broken,” he replies, with a scoff but not taking his eyes off me.

“Everyone but me, yeah, I agree.”

He blows a laugh through his nose. For one long moment, he just looks at me. Then, to my surprise, he relaxes a little. It’s with a smile that he says, “Alright, we can ease into it. I tell you something and you tell me something.”

“I’m not telling you a thing,” I protest, defiant but smiling.

“Oh I don’t think you’ll be able to resist.”

“I most definitely will.”

He glances around, his eyes stopping on the drink in my hand. “I once got so drunk,” he starts, my ears pricking up in anticipation, “I practically downed a whole bottle of vinegar thinking it was wine.”

I laugh. He grins.

“Was it to impress someone?” I ask.

“Nuh-uh, your turn.”

“I once set my teacher’s hair on fire.”

He just looks at me for a second, then swallows a laugh. “You did not.”

“It was an accident. Moving on,” I insist, wanting to hear more of his. “Go.”

“First time I came here,” he starts, the lower, more serious voice making my ears prick up, “I’d just broken into the Bloodholm Authority Office to destroy evidence that would’ve gotten me thrown in prison.”

With that, he keeps staring at me with this defiance in his eyes.

I frown. Then I remember that guy he told me about. “You were part of a còmhlan,” I reply pensively.

“Your turn,” he demands.

“Alright,” I say with a sigh. I think for a second. “When I was a kid, I broke my leg trying to jump off the roof, believing I’d end up landing softly like I saw this vampire do. That guy you told me about, was he in the same còmhlan as you?” I ask, my eyes narrowing at him.

It makes the defiance flash through his eyes again. Still, he doesn’t refuse to answer. “Yes. He was like a brother, in fact,” he says. Then he looks at me for a second before he lets out this bitter little laugh, making me breathless with anticipation when I realize that’s not all he’ll be telling me in this round. “When the còmhlan took me off the streets, I fought tooth and nail to get them to take him with us. What a service I did him, huh? Then, years later, when I realized the life was destroying him from within, I helped him escape, only to get both him and a bunch of others killed for it.”

I frown and stay silent for a second, sadness flooding me and my voice soft when I finally say, “You said it yourself, you were both kids and neither one of you chose the life.”

This makes him hesitate, his jaw clenching. “Sure,” he says with a touch of mockery in his voice, “until I hit puberty and they started grooming me to take over, to go from being bait in conning the rich to being sent to kill off an entire enemy còmhlan. Now that bit, can’t really say I objected to it much.”

There's a moment of silence during which he throws me another defiant look. I choose to set all judgment aside. I relax and ask, even more softly than before, “Why didn’t you?”

That seems to surprise him. “Why didn’t I?” he echoes pensively. Then he glances around, his lips curling into a sad smile. “Imagine going through life as this sweet, pretty little boy everyone loves having around. Then, one day, all of a sudden, without anything changing within you, you start noticing people averting their eyes, scurrying away from you, obeying you even when your intention is not giving out orders. It turns you hard, makes you start identifying with it, gets you believing that’s all people ever want from you — to be this rock that just gets shit done.”

I don’t want to make him feel like I’m pitying him, but what I really want right now is to give him a hug or something. I’m just about to make a compromise and put my hand on his, when he leans back again and looks away, letting out another bitter laugh. “So when my brother got killed, I left the còmhlan and joined the military. When that didn’t work out for me, I started a business and just kept making a living out of bossing people around.”

Still softly, I ask, “And how’s that working out for you?”

When he turns to look at me again, he’s slightly gritting his teeth. “You’ve been wiggling your way out of it long enough. Your turn.”

I hesitate. I really don’t want to keep saying stuff, but I also don’t want him to stop talking. I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “First time I came to the Academy was on a rare tourist tour,” I start, seeing his ears prick up. “I spent my last money on it. I was, at that moment in time, without a place to live and I seriously considered trying to hide and live with the Academy goblins.” I finish with a laugh that’s only slightly awkward.

“Without a place to live?” he asks, leaning closer with a frown. “As in—”

“Your turn.”

He doesn’t drop it. “Why didn’t you have anywhere to go?”

“What does it matter?”

“You never mention parents, or any kind of family, for that matter.”

Damn it. That’s not a place I want to go to right now, but I do feel the need to offer something in return for everything he’s shared with me. I stare into his eyes for a second, then I just lean to whisper in his ear, “I only changed my last name. I guess I felt the need to at least keep some of myself.”

I feel him tense up. When I pull back, I find him staring at me with such burning intensity, seemingly holding his breath. It takes a moment, but then he demands, “Why’d you do it?”

“Your turn,” I say with an eager smile.

“I asked why’d you do it?” he repeats himself forcefully, his eyes probing me.

The longer I stare into them, the easier it seems to just say it. I shrug. “Maybe there’s someone I have to hide from,” I say simply.

I watch him freeze, something flashing through his eyes. “Who?” he asks, his nostrils starting to flare.

I’m smiling, but the probing is making things surface and that was not my intention. I shake my head to get the images out. “Your turn,” I say more forcefully.

“No,” he snaps, his chest now heaving. It startles me, when he shifts his eyes, grabs me by the wrist and gets in my face so much, I have to lean back. “You’re telling me who it is and you’re telling me now. Is it an ex?”

I shake my head for no, the voice making my eyes round and my breath catch. I’ve never heard him use it before — so hard and cruel, burrowing into the bones and resonating through them, making heads turn all around us.

The spotlight doesn’t help shift my attention away from his eyes. They’re making me feel more naked than ever before, my mind now relentlessly filling with memories of all the notches I put on the windowsill counting the days until I turned eighteen, of all the looks of hatred my father threw me as he punished me simply for being who I was, of all the rage I felt when I decided I wouldn’t spend another day being a prisoner in his gilded cage, of everything I had to endure the first time he caught me.

It’s all threatening to be put into actual words, so I just keep staring at Bane, who’s waiting frozen with my wrist in his hand, until I finally manage to tear my eyes away from him.

For a moment, he keeps my wrist in his hand. Then he abruptly lets go, stepping away a little and clearing his throat.

The retreat and the tension in his body make my heart sink, especially after what he told me about the way people treat him. So I find myself taking a step closer, giving his shirt a gentle tug and looking up at him with a soft smile. “You said you used to be bait,” I say, wanting for him to relax but still desperate to change the subject. “How do you even go about conning someone?” I shrug. “I mean, it’s not like you can borrow a handbook or something.”

For one long moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me.

Then he seems to relax, leaning in to explain in a more upbeat voice, “It’s actually very simple.” He glances around the room, making me do the same. “You choose your target, you make an impression, you get them to do whatever it is you want them to do, and you pick the right moment to disappear.”

Disappear... How tempting. Maybe that’s exactly what I need right now.

“Okay,” I say, my eyes sweeping over the room and stopping on an older male vampire sitting in a booth alone. “That guy over there. What would the actual plan be?”

“Plan?” he asks with a scoff. “It’s all improv, Novak.” He leans a little forward, getting real close, and says, “You need to get people to think they’re on the verge of getting what they desire most in this world. And how will you know what they desire most in this world until you start talking to them?”

It’s at that moment that my eyes get drawn back in the direction of the vampire sitting alone. I see how nervously he’s glancing in the direction of this beautiful young woman dancing with a man not too far away from him.

“Talking to them?” I repeat pensively. “I’d think that sometimes you only need to look at them,” I say. I throw Bane this feverish smile and say, “Come on.”

***

“Hey, Novak,” Bane calls out as he rushes to catch up with me.

I don’t stop, I throw a look over my shoulder. “Just follow my lead, please?”

I can tell he’s confused, but he just keeps following me until we’re slowing to a stop in front of the vampire. I’m smiling a wide, silly smile as I try to catch his eye, asking, “Mind if we rest here for a bit?”

It’s only then that the vampire pays us attention. But only for a second. “Sure, but just until my wife gets back.”

So she’s the wife. A thrill rushes down my spine when I realize I’m right about the best course of action here.

I nudge Bane to take a seat and as soon as he does, I come to nestle myself next to him, squirming softly as I put his arm over my shoulder. He doesn’t protest, but when I look up at him, he’s staring at me with his eyebrows pulled down. I lean to whisper in his ear, “Tell him you think his wife is gorgeous.”

“I don’t.”

“Just say it.”

He lets out a sigh and then turns to the target, locking eyes with him. “That your wife?” he says as he motions at the girl. “She’s gorgeous.”

“Hey,” I protest in a hurt voice, making him throw another confused look at me. “If I catch you looking at her one more time…”

I see him frown just before his gaze darts to a waiter walking by. “Hey, why don’t you freshen these two up?” the vampire demands as he points at two fancy cocktails in front of him. “That’s my wife over there. She likes ‘em a certain temperature.”

I look up at Bane, catching him staring at the guy before turning his focus back onto me. “You know,” he leans to whisper, “it’s kind of unsettling, how quickly you’re catching on.”

I give him a smug smile. He lets out a sigh, but he’s smiling. “You never want to give me any space, huh, babe?” he asks, loudly and with a smirk. Then he turns back to the vampire, who’s now staring at him. “Women, am I right?”

“Yeah, women,” the guy echoes, a spark of interest appearing in his eyes. “So what brings you two here?” he leans to ask.

Bingo. Moving his arm so it’s wrapped tightly around my waist, Bane engages in a conversation with the vampire. I settle in, nestling even more comfortably against his chest and leaning the back of my head on his shoulder.

The conversation keeps drifting to me, but I stay silent, lifting my hand to trace my fingers along his forearm. It makes heat wash over me, when I see his skin prick and he starts slowly stroking my waist with his thumb.

He seems to already have the guy enthralled.

I let out a soft scoff. People are all the same, aren’t they? Always have been and always will be.

Put them in a dark room and they’ll want light.

Give them a neighbor and they’ll start a war.

Try to teach them something and somehow they’ll find a way to make you out to be the enemy.

I throw a sneaky glance up at Bane. Maybe he was right all along, saying the world can’t be saved. It’s simply because people are and always will be petty, selfish little animals.

So why bother.

There’s a lull in the conversation when the vampire turns his focus onto me, motioning at Bane before he asks me with a knowing smile, “You like ‘em handsome, don’t you?”

I give him a wide, lazy smile. “Oh he’s not just handsome,” I reply as I squirm a little in his arms. “He’s the kind of guy who takes what he wants, no matter the risk. Just yesterday, he invested in this private island thing—”

“We don’t talk about that, babe,” he cuts me off with an awkward laugh, squeezing me tighter.

Oh he’s good. He’s making me believe our lie.

“Don’t worry, I won’t say too much,” I protest, pretending to be that stupid. I turn my focus back onto the vampire. “Anyway, he got involved with these really sketchy types, but now, whenever I feel like soaking in the sun, he can just whisk me away to our private island.” I look up to grin at Bane and I crane my neck a little, catching his eyebrows pull down just before I give him a kiss on the mouth.

It knocks the air out of my lungs, when he tugs me closer and I feel his tongue part my lips. He keeps kissing me and before I even realize what’s going on, I’m putting my hand on his thigh, reveling in the way he groans into my mouth when I start to stroke it.

“I want to leave,” a bored female drawl snaps me out of it. I pull my hand back and break the kiss. He tries to catch my eye, but I ignore him, nestling back in his arms instead. My gaze is now on the wife, who’s standing right in front of me, impatiently waiting for the vampire as he scrambles to get ready to go.

“We should get going, too,” I hear Bane say, and still, I ignore him.

My heart is sinking at the thought of this little escape coming to an end and the two of us going back to our group.

The vampire finishes grabbing his stuff and comes to put his arm around his wife, but she just coldly backs off.

He lets out an awkward laugh and turns to the two of us. “Why don’t you two join us? We have a fully stocked bar back home. Maybe we could even talk about that investment thing.”

Hell yeah. “That sounds like so much fun,” I say, turning to beam at Bane.

To my surprise, the look on his face is a dead serious one. Maybe even a little pissed off. “It does,” he says as he gets up, “but we’re leaving.”

“But I want to keep drinking,” I reply as I look up at him.

He shakes his head and folds his arms, waiting for me without throwing another glance in the couple’s direction.

Way to ruin the whole thing.

I get up, throw the vampire and his wife sorry looks and come to whisper in his ear, “It’s not like I was actually planning on going through with it.”

He doesn’t say anything. He just walks around me and starts leading me through the crowd with a firm hand on the small of my back, making me frown when I realize he’s not going back to our group.

Just before we pass the bar, he stops, opens a door I only now notice and nudges me out into the warm night air, onto a cramped back space dominated by some kind of wooden crate.

Still frowning, I watch him lock the door and get in my face. “If I tell you we’re leaving,” he says through gritted teeth, “you start hauling your ass out.”

My frown grows deeper. “Excuse me?” I hiss.

“If I call you,” he keeps going in a voice growing more and more pissed, “you answer the fucking phone.”

Heat washes over me, when I realize exactly what’s happening. Even before he grabs my hand, puts it on his thigh and says, “And if you touch me like that in public, guess what happens?”

It’s a little breathlessly but with my lips tugging into a smile that I say, “I get punished.”

“Good girl,” he says.

He mercilessly spins me around, fills his hands with my breasts and takes a bite out of my shoulder. My spine arches with pleasure, my ass pressing into his crotch. He lets out a groan and starts dragging his hands down my body.

But we won’t be doing things his way again. I break free of his grip and I turn around, watching his eyebrows pull down even before I ask, “Oh that’s what you want, huh?”

I walk him backwards, shoving at his chest to make him sit on the crate with his legs spread wide. I’m enjoying the confusion on his face so much. “You want a good girl?” I whisper as I bend to get in his face.

I stand straight, lift my right leg and bring its heel down between his legs, the hem of my dress sliding down my thigh. “Don’t think you got me fooled for a second, big boy,” I whisper as I press the tip of the boot against his crotch, making his jaw clench and this feral look flash in his eyes.

He tries to grab my leg only to have it mercilessly slapped away. “Oh you think you’re allowed to touch?” I press the tip of my boot harder against him.

For a second, he just looks at me. As if in a trance, he shakes his head.

“You know when you’ll be allowed to touch?” I ask, leaning to breathe in his ear.

He seems to be speechless at the moment, so I don’t wait for his answer. “When and only when I tell you you deserve it.”

Chapter 32

The next morning, I’m sitting at breakfast with Raven and Alaric, playing with my food as the words keep ringing in my head. “What’re you doing to me, Anna?” That's what I heard him say last night.

It’s like a mix of warmth and thrill exploding in me, every time I replay it in my head. And it's making me want to turn the sound bite into a blanket and cover myself with it, head to toe.

Should I just make peace with the fact? That I’ve fallen for him?

Then again…

There’s something I can’t quite put my finger on, something that, when he said the words, made me snap out of it.

I shift my focus back onto Raven and Alaric, who are discussing what to do after breakfast. It makes a smile tug at my lips, how carefree they look.

I glance around the cafeteria, pausing in the moment to feel the gratitude for the fact that everything seems fine. Except for the fact that my wolf still won’t speak to me, everything’s… ordinary.

And ordinary’s great.

So I guess I’ll just keep training, working on the ritual and keeping my fingers crossed that I never have to use it. Who knows, maybe I’ll even manage to pass all my exams.

It makes the smile slide off my face, when I start noticing people around me stirring. Everyone seems to be whipping out their phones all of a sudden.

My ears prick up, my eyebrows pulling down. I exchange a look with Raven and Alaric.

“What’s going on?” Alaric asks just as I notice more and more people getting up to leave the cafeteria.

This dread creeping up on me, I get out of my chair and rush after them. I sense my friends follow.

We stop in the Entrance Hall, where all the screens hanging above our heads are showing the same footage.

For a second, we just stare at images of people dead in the streets. Lots of different streets. Lots of people. Then someone remembers to switch the sound on and an official female voice booms from the speakers around us, caught in the middle of the sentence. “...and the Authority, who are saying there isn’t a single person left alive in the entire city.”

The woman keeps talking, but the shocked murmurs coming from all around me drown her out.

I spot one of the landmarks on one of the images showing on TV. Wawel Castle? “Warsaw,” I breathe out.

I sense Raven’s eyes on my profile.

“Anna,” I hear Alaric ask in a tense voice, “isn’t that one of the locations?”

“It is,” I reply, still not taking my eyes off the screen. “I guess Lorcan was right. We managed to miss something there.”

Last time, it was thirteen people. This time, it’s close to two million.

And now there are the breathlessness and the ringing in my head, and I feel myself start to move, although where, I’ve no idea.

“Anna…”

“Where are you going?”

I hear them, but it’s like the ringing is making me forget who they even are or where and who I am. I lower myself onto the floor. Then the ringing intensifies, until it stops, and there’s only darkness and silence all around me.

Until I hear the knock.

***

The darkness around me is deep and all-encompassing. I hold my hands out, but there’s nothing around me. Just the sense of stone radiating coldness.

From that cold darkness, shadows tear away and I find myself backing away, trying to scream without any sound coming from my mouth.

I stumble onto something, falling face first but never landing.

There’s a flash of light, just long enough for me to see what I’m about to hit. A sea of dead people, skin sagging and eyes hollow.

My throat tightens. Desperately I try to summon the light, but I just keep falling, waiting to be swallowed by the corpses.

But it’s his nightmares that will get to me first. He knows it. That’s why I always hear his laugh.

***

When I come to, my ears are ringing and my entire body is in pain.

“Should we take you to the hospital?” I hear Alaric ask, his voice drifting to me as if through water.

I shake my head because I don’t want my friends to worry about me, but I can’t help staying silent, my mind buzzing in search of the source of this cold dread that’s flooding me.

Alaric takes me by the upper arm, helps me up and starts frantically searching for something on the web. Swaying a little, I blink at him and Raven, the dread intensifying when I see their awfully pale, downright scared faces.

”I think we should at least go to your room and have you lie down, Anna,” Raven says.

It’s then that I register the eerily still crowd all around us, my eyes following the gazes all the way up to the screens and my blood curdling when I finally remember what it is that happened before I had the vision.

My breath hitches. No, it can’t be right.

“Seems to be true,” I hear Alaric say, looking up to see him lowering his phone with a grave look in his eyes. “I literally can’t find a channel that’s not reporting on it.”

“An entire city,” I whisper, my eyes coming to fix on the polished stone beneath my feet. “Everyone dead. Just like that.”

A violent pang of guilt shoots through me, and I have to force myself not to give in to the temptation to just fall apart right then and there.

Feeling Raven’s delicate hand wrap around my upper arm in consolation, I give it a squeeze, but I don’t say the bit where I conclude it’s my fault. I can’t. There’s no point. England was enough to make me almost break to pieces and give up on everything, and that was a village with a total of thirteen people.

So no, I’m not letting my stupid emotions get the better of me this time, because who knows what kind of breakdown I could experience.

“Khm khm.”

I look up only to find Raven and Alaric staring at me. “Should we call for a meeting?” Alaric asks. “If ever we needed to discuss something…”

The suggestion makes me remember the other night, when I told Serra I’d be taking a break from all this Aurora crap, just after I tried to do the ritual and ended up getting in a fight with my wolf.

“You know what?” I ask. “Would you just let me do one thing first? I’ll text you when I’m done.”

They nod and watch me turn on my heel, heading straight for the Elevator.

Serra warned me. She was gentle about it, but she did warn me. And I let myself dismiss the warning because I was… otherwise preoccupied.

In a haze, I go straight to her office and knock on the door, bracing myself for whatever will come.

With concern in her eyes and a phone book in her hands, she opens the door and lets me into a small, modestly furnished round room dominated by a comfy armchair.

“I’m scheduling a meeting with the rest of the Order,” she tells me as she closes the door and comes to face me.

There’s a moment of silence during which we just look at each other. All of a sudden, I feel a sob coming on, and I realize I’m partly here because I want her to tell me this wasn’t my fault.

“Did I do this?” I grit out. “Did I cause it by saying I’d take a break from all this shit? Did I somehow give him more power by giving up?”

She takes me by the upper arm and squeezes it tight. “No, child. I don’t think it works that way.”

It doesn’t make it any better. But it does make the tiniest bit of the pent-up emotions release in the form of a shuddering sigh.

Until she says, “But you may have brought it about by damaging your connection with your wolf.”

Of course. Of course I’d do something stupid and make tons of people die in the process. I have to wall it all out to stop it from crushing me under its weight.

Gritting my teeth, I say, “Let me know when we’ll be having the meeting.”

I move for the door, more determined about having my first shift than ever before.

“Where are you going?” she asks.

I stop to throw her a look over my shoulder. “To find Bane.”

“Bane?” she echoes, something flashing through her eyes.

I squint at her, all my focus suddenly on her face. “My mentor. Yeah.”

I see her hesitate, shaking her head and making this dread start flooding me. I turn to face her, holding my breath.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” she finally starts, “this might turn out to be a bad idea, but I really can’t keep quiet any longer.”

I walk up to her, staring her down. “Yeah,” I say forcefully, “I’m not into the suspense right now.”

“Jericho Bane… You’re the reason he’s here.”

For a second, I just blink at her. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“You’re the reason the Academy hired him,” she says with hesitation as I keep staring at her in silence. “That is… It was Lorcan, to be honest.”

“No,” I reply with a frown, my breathing turning shallow. “It’s Finn Brennan. Finn Brennan’s the reason.”

She shakes her head. “That was just a rumor Lorcan never dispelled because it suited him. Because he didn’t just hire Bane. He blackmailed him into coming here and becoming your professor. Now, I can’t be sure why, but… Well, I suspect it has something to do with the fact that you never did end up learning how to shift.”

It takes me a second to truly understand what she’s saying. But when I do, it hits me hard and all at once, like a tornado breaking me into a million pieces and leaving only dead silence.

I should’ve known.

I see Serra’s eyes dart to my hands and it’s only then that I realize I’m vibrating with rage, sparks shooting off my fingers.

It’s with a lot of hesitation and definitely a heavy dose of pity that she starts, “Anna—”

“It’s no big deal,” I cut her off, coldly. I force my fingers to obey before I add, “No big deal. People lie, cheat and hurt you all the time. I’m used to it.”

Now, now I’m going to make him suffer. “Now,” I start as it all becomes so clear to me — what I need to do, “I need to speed things up like it’s the end of the world.” I take a step closer to her, noticing something like fear flash through her eyes before I ask, “Is there anything you can do to help me with my wolf?”

“Me?”

“Yes.”

She glances around helplessly. “I could try to use Divine Magic to jumpstart your connection, but—”

“How?” I mercilessly cut her off. “Whatever time I had for fucking around, it’s over now.”

She looks at me for a second, then walks over to a chest of drawers in the far right corner. She takes something out and turns to look at me, lifting a large stone nail for me to inspect.

“I enchanted this for a friend who never needed to use it. It’s moon rock, and normally, it wouldn’t do anything to help you, but I’ve made it so the moon’s energy is magnified tenfold. It should take you straight to your wolf so you can work things out.”

I frown at her. “Why are you only showing this to me now?”

“This much moon energy…” She lowers her voice. “You could die using this, Anna.”

I shake my head. “I don’t care. Just do it.”

“Right now?” she asks with a frown.

“You have something more important to do?” I snap at her.

She hesitates. “I won’t be doing a thing. It’s all you. Just take this in your hand and, once you’re with your wolf, stab yourself in the heart with it.”

The very thought fills me with dread, but then there are the guilt and the rage and the urgency and everything else I’m feeling at the moment.

If I want to save everyone, if I want to stay alive, if I want to get my fucking revenge… It’s not like I have a choice. I take a deep breath and reach for the moon stone.

“Be careful, Anna,” Serra says just before I take it in my hand.

The next thing I know, the world around me disappears and I find myself in a familiar darkness.

***

Tell me, my wolf’s voice booms from behind the bars, how is it that you still have the audacity to come here?

“I need your help,” I say as I take a few steps closer, determination in my voice.

This is not the way to ask for it.

Somehow, I know she’s referring to the moon stone in my hand. I frown. “What do you mean?”

You think forcing a connection is a good idea? she asks.

I have to fight not to lose my cool. “I’m not going to force you,” I tell her in a forceful voice. “I just want your help.”

Alright, Anna, she says, stepping out of the shadows to stare at me. I’ll help.

What the… I breathe a sigh of relief.

On one condition.

“Anything you need,” I rush to say.

Tell me what happened to your last incarnation.

As soon as she says that, these images start flashing before my eyes, but they’re all so vague and at the same time, so powerful, I need to swat them away. “I can’t do that,” I say through gritted teeth. “I don’t remember.”

I only get silence.

“Seriously?” I demand, taking an angry step forward. “That’s what you’re asking of me? The only thing I can’t give you?”

I’m sorry, Anna, she just says, and moves to walk away.

“What kind of bullshit is this?” I yell at her, the rage starting to course through me again. “All I want is to fix things for everyone.”

She stops to throw me a look over her shoulder. That's what you always say.

This powerful surge of fear burrows deep inside me. “What do you mean?” I ask in a breathless voice.

It's sad, truly and deeply sad, how much you're resisting to feel it all. I know it's terrible, Anna. It's beyond terrible, in fact, what we've had to live through. It's not an excuse though, because this is the most destructive weakness of them all — to try to do it all yourself just for fear of getting hurt if you let anyone in.

Something inside me snaps. “You forget yourself, wolf,” I grit out.

I’m warning you, Anna.

But I’m already lifting the moon stone, squeezing it tight as I turn my fist inward. “No. It’s not you who has the final word here.” And with that, I stab myself in the heart, feeling my wolf freeze.

***

When I come to, my vision is blurred and my chest is burning. Taking pained breaths, I push myself off the floor, vaguely aware of being back in Serra’s office.

“Easy,” I hear her say, and the volume makes me lift my palms to my ears.

I blink the blur away and see she’s standing right in front of me, looking as she did before I went to visit my wolf. It's just that now, my senses are sharper than ever.

“Anna?” I see her hand on my upper arm even before she reaches out to squeeze it. “Is everything alright?”

I nod, even though I don’t think it is. While my senses are all heightened to the point of being unbearable, my emotions are all so dull, I’m wondering if I’m feeling anything at all. The combination is making me feel trapped in a slow motion right in the middle of heavy gunfire.

There’s the pain as well. My eyes dart to the blood on my chest where my heart is. It makes me realize her moon stone’s worked. My eyebrows raise, lazily. “What do I do about this?” I ask in a hollow voice.

“Nothing,” Serra says, making me look up in confusion. “As long as you have it inside you, you’ll be good.” She moves for her desk, adding, “Although, I should still treat it for you. Take a seat, please.”

I do as she says and keep watching her rummaging through her desk with my hands limp in my lap.

It makes my throat tighten, when Warsaw crosses my mind.

It only gets tighter when I remember the way my wolf froze.

When it comes back to me, what Serra told me about Bane… It triggers an avalanche of memories in the form of images, smells, words and whole sentences being spoken.

I don’t linger on any of them, until…

“It’s all improv, Novak,” he told me, just last night. “You need to get people to think they’re on the verge of getting what they desire most in this world.”

I let out a scoff, but my teeth are gritting. The anger I’m feeling is helpless — because no, I won’t be getting revenge. But it’s still there, powerful and desperate for me to act.

Right now, when I’m struggling feeling anything at all, it’s strangely soothing.

It snaps me out of it, when I feel a sharp pain on my chest and look down to see Serra dabbing some kind of ointment on it. “I think that’s enough,” I tell her, and I move to get up.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asks as she gets out of my way.

“Out of here,” I say as I start for the door. I stop midstep, realizing there are a couple of things that will need clarification. I turn to face her with determination in my eyes. “I don’t want you to say anything to either Lorcan or…” Bitterness floods my mouth. “Bane,” I force myself to say.

Then I pause, thinking. “Actually… Why don’t you let him know he won’t be training me anymore.”

“What reason should I give?”

I blow out a bitter laugh. “Tell him it’s proving not to be a good fit.”

She nods.

“And Serra?” She nudges me to go on. “I want you to take that role on.”

She gives me another nod, but as I turn to walk away again, she says, “The magnitude of this… I think it’s going to happen soon.”

“I’ll be ready,” I say, and I leave her office, headed straight for the gym with the intention to learn to shift. Not two weeks from now. Not tomorrow.

Today.

Chapter 33

After spending hours in the gym trying to force myself to shift to no avail, I’m sitting in Ahearn’s class, watching the rest of the shifters running around in shifted forms, trying not to succumb to petty jealousy.

More than anything else, trying not to think about Bane and what I’d learned about him, although I’ll have to at some point.

I’ll have to go through everything that happened, trying to figure out what it is that he did to try to stop me from awakening his powers.

Was it his eyes?

Was it half a year of crappy teaching?

Was it the coffee?

Or was it simply seducing me and getting me to spend gods know how many hours sleeping with him and obsessing over him?

That’s how spectacularly I’m failing to stop myself from thinking about it.

Even now, with the moon stone inside me, there are sobs threatening to rise from the depths of my stomach and carry me away on a tidal wave of anger, sadness, desperation, hatred and the purest, most blinding pain I’ve ever felt.

“It’s all improv, Novak,” his words keep ringing in my head. “You need to get people to think they’re on the verge of getting what they desire most in this world. And how will you know what they desire most in this world until you start talking to them?”

To think I admitted to changing my name.

Even worse, to think I almost told him about my father.

I have to grit my teeth and turn to look out the window when I realize I’m about to start actually crying.

My phone pings. It’s an email from Serra. “I just told him, but I’m sorry, Anna, he’s not buying the lie about it being a bad fit.”

My mind goes blank.

Practically the very next moment, my phone starts vibrating.

It’s him, calling.

I swallow around a lump in my throat. That’s fine, it’ll stop.

It doesn’t stop. The phone keeps vibrating and soon, I realize I’ll have to make a decision. If I want to try to stick with the lie, I’ll have to make it all much less suspicious.

I grit my teeth, but I reject the current call and type, “I’m in class.”

He’s already typing. “What’s this about me no longer being your mentor?”

Come on, just do it, I tell myself. “It’s not a good fit anymore.”

“Now you’re just parroting Naehorn’s words back. I want an actual answer, Anna.”

I can hear the tone. I take a second to think.

“Sooner rather than later,” another text comes as I keep trying to decide.

Maybe it would be smarter to reply to this one as well, but it’s just so painful, even seeing his name at the top of the screen.

And well, I’m in class, right? I did tell him that. So I put my phone down and go back to watching the other students.

A couple of minutes go by in silence.

Then my head snaps to my right when the gym door flies open and in he comes, his eyes searching for mine first, landing on them for a second and sending bitterness flooding to my mouth before he turns to the professor, everyone’s eyes on him.

“Excuse the interruption, Professor Ahearn,” he says in a tense, commanding voice, “but I’ll need Miss Novak to come with me.”

“Of course,” I hear her say.

But I can’t even look at him. Without a conscious decision, I say, “I’m sorry, Professor Bane. I thought you'd been informed, but I’m no longer required to come to special classes.”

For a second, he just stands there, staring at me with his eyes narrowing. “I see,” he finally says. “Well, carry on then.”

He walks out the door, slamming it behind him.

I breathe a sigh of relief.

When the bell rings and I walk out the gym, I find him pushing himself off the wall he was leaned against, waiting with a scowl on his face.

“What the hell is going on?” he demands, making the students rushing past throw us these funny looks.

I glance around, more so that I can collect myself. “What is it exactly that’s confusing you?” I say in the lightest voice I can muster. I shrug. “It’s been months and I still haven’t even had my first shift. It’s time to move on.”

I move to walk away.

“None of that explains the way you’re treating me,” he says as he comes to block my way.

For a second, we just look at each other.

Then I take a deep breath. “Alright,” I say. “I guess I just see this as a good opportunity to move on in general.”

Surprise flashes through his eyes. Then he collects himself. “Really?” he drawls with suspicion in his voice.

“Yes.”

“And why’s that?”

I shrug. “Taking what you want in the moment, that’s what you said is part of being a shifter. Sometimes it just means letting go of things you don’t want anymore.” And I keep looking at him, fighting not to show how upset this is all making me.

He takes a step closer and I take a step back, making his eyes narrow even more. “Come on, what’s really going on?” he asks, his gaze dragging down my body. “Everything about you seems off today.”

I fold my arms. “I just told you.”

“No,” he says with a forceful shake of his head. “I’ve had it with the hiding, Anna.” And he moves to take me by the arm, already leaning to take a whiff of me.

“No, don’t touch me,” I fail to stop myself from spitting out as I take a step back.

He freezes in place, his eyes rounding in more than surprise as he slowly lowers his hand. “No?” he echoes softly, looking at me as if in a haze.

“No,” I repeat firmly, taking another step back.

I watch his face flush and his chest start to heave. “You out to make a fool out of me, huh?” he demands a little breathlessly as he takes another step closer, though he doesn’t try to touch me. “Make me open up to you one day and discard me the next?”

“Fool?” I echo with a shake of my head. “That’s one thing you’re not.”

For some reason, that makes his features twist into an expression of pained anger. “One thing, huh? That’s right, I’m not,” he grits out, “because I couldn’t care less, whether I see you ever again.”

“Good,” I say with a nod. “Then we’re on the same page.”

And I turn on my heel and start walking away.

Keep walking, I tell myself, but I just can’t. Knowing I might not see him ever again, it’s just making it impossible for me not to at least say goodbye.

I stop and look over my shoulder, finding him standing there, just as he was. “Goodbye, Bane,” I say. “Have a good life.”

Chapter 34

Tomorrow is the last day of school, and although it’s not even eight o’clock in the morning, the entire Academy seems to be buzzing with students getting ready for the last of their finals. I keep walking across the Entrance Hall, barely registering my surroundings. I’ve barely slept this week, and these days, my mind is almost always on the matter of the ritual, which I haven’t managed to crack yet.

The only thing I do seem to notice is the way people seem to be steering clear of me, even those I’m sure I’ve never seen in my entire life.

That all stops as soon as I enter the Junkyard. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see there’s only one group of people hanging out here. I need some alone time, but I’m so sick of my room, and these days, even the Library is packed with students cramming for the exams.

What makes the Junkyard an even better option, I think as I take my seat in our little alcove, is the fact that it’s still so early in the morning, so I should even be able to avoid Raven and Alaric.

Right now, I feel like I can only bring toxicity into other people’s lives and the two of them sure as hell don’t deserve any of it.

I settle in, get my books out of my tote and take a deep breath.

It’s at the very next moment that something nudges me to look up and I see the two of them enter the Junkyard.

Dammit.

“Morning,” I say as I watch them approach, contemplating excusing myself and going somewhere else.

But I see there’s something off even before Alaric throws himself on the bench next to me, saying, “Morning. Did you see the Main Hall, Anna? Doesn’t the castle feel festive?”

There’s this tension in his voice that makes me frown. I throw a glance at Raven, but she just settles in right across from me.

I turn to Alaric. “It does, yeah.” I don’t try to hide the confusion in my voice.

“It should,” he replies, glancing at Raven with an uncharacteristic frown. “After all, it’s not just any night, the Grand Ball tomorrow. Right?”

Frowning, I tip my chin at him to ask what’s going on. He dismisses the question and proceeds to glance around the Junkyard. Not knowing what to do, I just go back to staring at the materials in front of me.

We keep sitting there in tense silence, until I hear Raven ask, “Are you okay, Anna?”

I throw her a glance. I’m feeling guilty for having been so detached and pissy lately, but there seems to be nothing I can do about it. So I just say, “I’m fine, Raven.” And I go back to staring at the materials.

“Maybe there’s something I could help you with.”

I press my lips tight. I look up at her again. “Do you have a way to figure out what Lorcan’s up to?” Ever since I found out about him blackmailing Bane, he hasn’t been setting up any meetings.

“No,” Raven says.

“There you have it.”

“What about your training sessions with Professor Naehorn?”

I let out a scoff, thinking about the way Serra’s been using them to drone on about stuff I really don’t find helpful. “It’s a waste of time.”

“Maybe you could ask Seamus,” she suggests, referring to the guy she’s going to the Ball with. “His father is one of the top shifters in the area and he taught him everything he knows.”

“Yeah, right,” Alaric cuts in. “I saw his pitiful little snake. It couldn’t strangle a mouse. He’s only saying that because he’s trying to… You know.”

Raven just blinks at him. “Help?”

Alaric throws his arms up. “You know, Raven, it’s one thing to be innocent. It’s a whole other to be naive.”

It finally hits me. Yesterday, Raven got asked to the Ball by some third-year shifter, and she said yes. I thought Alaric would just talk to her about it, but his plan seems to be throwing passive-aggressive hints to someone who’s obviously not getting them. I have to fight not to let out a sigh.

Love makes people so stupid.

“Alaric,” I enunciate as I pin him in place with my stare.

“Anna,” he copies me mockingly.

My face softens and I motion for him to get the hell out of here.

He seems to understand what I’m going for here, because there’s a spark in his eyes before he gets up, saying, “I guess I’ll leave you girls alone.”

Then he stops, hesitates a little and then comes to place a stick on the table in front of Raven. She looks and blinks at him as if she has no idea what's going on. He awkwardly clears his throat, runs his hand through his hair and darts out.

As soon as he leaves the Junkyard, I turn to my obtuse little friend. “Raven?”

“Yes, Anna?”

“You do understand why Alaric is acting the way he is?”

She tilts her head at me. “I do understand that there is something going on. I just don’t understand what it is.”

“He’s upset because you’re letting Seamus take you to the Ball, not him.”

She blinks at me. “But he didn’t ask me.”

“He didn’t, and that’s not your problem, but he is in love with you, you know that?”

“Oh.”

It almost makes me let out a laugh. “Do you like him, Raven? Romantically, I mean.”

“That doesn’t matter.”

The answer makes me frown. “Why?”

“I’m not normal, Anna,” she says matter-of-factly.

I just look at her for a second, my heart tightening in my chest. “Neither is he,” I finally say. “Neither am I. No one is. Do you understand that, Raven?” I demand as I look deeper into her eyes. I don’t let her answer though. “All the things you feel aren’t ‘normal’ about you, they’re just the things we love you for.”

For a moment, this makes her speechless. “Yes, but I… I just fear it will be like it is with everyone else.”

I nudge her to explain.

“They find me ‘cute’ at first, at least that is how most people put it. But it soon becomes too much.”

“That scares you.”

“Yes. Also, I have read lots of romance books and I am not quite sure I believe in that type of love at all.”

Now that makes me hesitate. Right now, I don’t believe in love either. I can’t seem to make myself believe in anything. I’m walking around, forcing myself not to slip into hating everything and everyone, most of the time failing miserably.

Bitterness flooding my mouth, I force myself to shift my focus onto my friend. “It exists,” I tell her softly, “but it’s not an easy victory, Raven. There is always a vulnerability involved.”

“Have you ever had that type of love in your life?”

“No, Raven. I do think it exists,” I say, feeling my throat tightening. “I just don’t think it’s for me, at least not in this lifetime.”

“Is that why you are so sad, Anna?”

For a second, I stay silent. Then I let out a laugh. “No, I’m sad because I’m going crazy,” I tell her, trying to sound playful, as I get up to grab my stuff and go back to my room. “All of this is turning my brain into mush and I’m afraid I’ll become one of those people others whisper about.”

She blinks at me. “That was sarcasm.”

My eyebrows shoot up, but it’s at that moment that my eyes get drawn to the entrance into the Junkyard. Lorcan. He’s headed for the only other students in here, but the very sight of him gets me fuming.

I turn my focus back onto Raven. “Good job catching that,” I tell her, trying to contain my feelings. I need to get out of here as quickly as possible.

“Just be careful,” Raven tells me. “When you walk around tracing lines on your palms like you do, you do come across a little cuckoo. Just like me.”

Her words make me freeze in place. “What?” I barely even register Lorcan sending those other students out.

“I said—”

Raven doesn’t get to finish her sentence. “Miss Novak,” Lorcan calls out as he walks up to us.

We both turn to look at him as he folds his arms with a grave look on his face. “I’ll need you to empty your bag for me, please.”

My eyes dart to these fading bruises around his neck. Then we lock eyes and I can no longer see Lorcan standing in front of me. I can only see the man he brought here to manipulate me. It makes me grit my teeth in silence, trying to fight off a violent rush of anger.

“Then I’ll do it myself,” I hear Lorcan say.

With that, he reaches for my bag, but the next thing I know, there’s a burst of light blinding me.

Then there’s the knock.

***

I’m not registering anything around me, just the warm, bright glow in the shape of a person standing before me. It’s keeping me transfixed, still and in silence, like we’re trapped in time. There’s this painful longing swelling inside me, a longing to get closer, because as soon as I do, I know everything will be better.

When I take a step closer, the figure retreats into the distance, making my heart break into a million pieces. I find myself in front of a door.

I lift my hand up and I knock.

It’s my fault, I remember. I trusted the wrong person and now nothing will ever be alright.

***

When I come to, I’m grabbing onto the stone table with Raven and Lorcan crowding me.

“Are you alright?” I hear Raven say, but I’m so angry, I don’t even answer her question.

I make the echoes of the images disappear and I grab my tote, angrily turning it out so the stuff starts falling out.

I pin Lorcan in place with a scowl. “Find what you were looking for?” I demand through gritted teeth.

“How often does this happen to you, Miss Novak?” he asks.

I ignore the question. “What were you looking for?”

“Stolen magic supplies,” he replies matter-of-factly. “Dangerous magic. How often?”

I just look at him for a second, barely suppressing the urge to confront him about everything he’s done to me.

I don’t. I just say, “It’s none of your goddamn business.”

I grab only the book with the ritual instructions, I push past him and start marching out of the Junkyard.

“Miss Novak,” I hear him call out.

I don’t turn around. Desperate to shove all the sadness and the anger away, I focus all my attention on what Raven told me just before he showed up, and I keep walking straight to Serra’s office.

I’ve been tracing lines on my palms, Raven said. It’s making me realize that it’s the tattoos that are the key.

They’re magic gestures.

“I think I figured it out,” I say as I barge into Serra’s office, making her eyebrows shoot up. “I think I know how to do the ritual.”

Chapter 35

Jericho

I’m standing in front of the cracked mirror in my room in Grimm Tower, finishing buttoning up my shirt before heading off to the Ball.

She likes it when you undo the top ones, my fox’s lethargic voice sounds from the shadows.

I stop and I grit my teeth. “I don’t give a fuck what she likes,” I snap.

Then why are we even going? It’s been almost an entire month and he’s still not going back to his usual self.

“Not to see her, that’s for sure,” I say as I turn on my heel and move for the door. “I’ll be avoiding her like the plague. But hell if I’m giving her the satisfaction of not showing up at the Ball because of her.”

I don’t want it to be like this, the first time she sees us after—

“I believe I’ve made myself clear,” I cut him off. “If I so much as catch a glimpse of her, I’m going the other way.”

We have less than a day to make her change her mind about us.

I fling the door open and throw a look over my shoulder at the mess that my room’s been lately. Broken stuff everywhere, despite all the benders in the Lycan Forest. Aggression, there’s so much restlessness and aggression in me still.

“I couldn’t care less,” I finally say, and I walk out the door.

You’ve been saying that ever since you first laid eyes on her, and it’s not once been true.

“Watch it be true now,” I snarl as I start rushing down the stairs.

I’m so determined to see this through, but the moment I start approaching the Main Hall, this nauseating nervousness floods me.

When I step through the archway and my fox immediately catches a whiff of her…

I can’t stop myself from moving in the direction of the scent, the one that’s like a drug to me.

When I spot her in the crowd, just standing there as if she didn’t blow my entire life up and leave a gaping hole that’s impossible to fill, it’s like a shock of sensations, memories and desires that makes me freeze in place and my mind go blank.

Everything I’ve ever decided after she ripped my heart out of my chest gets forgotten and my body moves of its own accord. I don’t care what I need to do. I’ll get on my knees in front of everyone here if needs be. Maybe, just maybe she’d actually change her mind about me.

It makes me stop midstep, when I see this guy approach and put his hand around her waist.

Rage explodes inside me and I move to lunge.

My fox stops me with a snarl, You need to calm down. I’m not letting you show your face in front of her while you’re like this.

I remain standing there, wondering if catching a single sight of her really is enough for him to go back to normal.

“Well it doesn’t fucking matter what I do anyway,” I spit out. “Because whatever I do, she’ll just keep hiding from me and hating me. Always has and always will. So why would I be humiliating myself any further?”

You know why, he says in a gentler voice.

I watch the guy lean to whisper something in her ear.

What the fuck do you think you’re doing? my fox demands before I even realize I’m moving again.

I don’t stop. “Punishing her for what she did to me,” I say through gritted teeth.

What did she do to you, pray tell.

“I was fine before she came along.”

You fell in love with her and she rejected you, as is her right to.

“Doesn’t mean I can’t kill the guy.”

And then what?

“Then I’ll kill the next one, then the next, then the next. Don’t worry, it shouldn’t take her long to get the message.”

He lets out a groan. This is not the way, you insufferable idiot. Even if she were a different woman, which she’s not.

That doesn’t stop me, but the look in her eyes when I get closer does. I quickly move out of the way so she doesn’t spot me, but I’ve seen the face she makes when she’s soldiering on.

My mind floods with some of my favorite images of her. Her eyes narrowing at me, that pensive look that makes me imagine worlds hidden beneath the surface, her face flushing like it does when I'm about to make her come…

Then there’s the Sleeping Beauty one. The way she looked when I caught her sleeping at the Service Desk in the Library, her face all scrunched up and a drop of drool trickling down her chin. I never thought cuteness could reach such downright maddening levels.

It was one in a long series of moments that should’ve signaled to me exactly how far gone I was.

That’s just a reason to calm down, go to her and try to talk things through.

“No, because each and every one of those was a stab to the heart too. Because every one of those images comes with an image of her running away from me, or worse, looking at me with contempt.”

My fox stays silent.

I feel myself start to unravel. “I can’t do it without her.”

I know. She did reject us, but it’s not over yet.

“Yes, it is. Do you know why? Because she’s right in this just as she’s right in everything else. She’s right to hate me. I’m a selfish, hateful man. I deserve to find my mate only to realize she’d never want to be with me.”

None of that is her fault.

“No, it’s not. She deserves so much more than that. She deserves to be happy. Even if it’s with someone else.”

I turn to walk away just as her boyfriend goes to grab a drink.

I can’t stop the urge. I follow him, seemingly nonchalantly. I wait for a good moment, zero in on the hand he places on the stool in front of the bar as he waits for the drinks, I suck the lights out and I break his fingers as I stroll past him, switching the lights back on as I hear a muffled scream.

What about your newfound maturity? my fox asks.

“Well, I’m not a fucking saint.”

Feeling just as fucked up as I did a moment ago, I turn on my heel and decide to leave the party altogether.

Just as I start going back, I spot her again, talking with Serra.

This feeling overwhelms me. This bad, bad feeling.

She’s getting herself in danger again.

I start marching over to her.

Now what are you doing?

“Explaining some things to her. Whatever it is she’s about to do, she’s not doing it. Not on my watch.”

She doesn’t like it when you try to boss her around like that. You need to restrain yourself.

“For months on end,” I spit out, “I’ve been doing nothing but restraining myself, respecting every decision she ever made, even those that were nothing but running to her own death. How long am I expected to live in fear like this? So yeah, I’ll be throwing her over my fucking shoulder if I have to. She can kick and thrash to her heart's desire, she won’t surprise me this time.”

Don’t make a scene. You know she’ll hate you for it.

My lips curl into a smile. “You’re right. Thank you, you’ve given me a much better idea. I’m past the point of trying to ‘discuss’ things with her anyway.”

I take my phone out and dial Colin’s number.

What are you doing, boy?

“Yes, Mister—” Colin answers.

“Have a team dispatched to the island ASAP,” I cut him off. “I’ll be arriving shortly.”

“Shortly? How shortly, Mister Bane? There’s a lot to do, you haven’t been in ages—”

“Just be as quick as you can, Colin, for crying out loud. With focus on security,” I grit out. I pause before I remember to add. “And books. Make sure there’s a shit ton of books there.”

There’s a moment of silence before my fox says, in the most whimpering tone I’ve heard him use, Don’t do it. Please. Just don’t make her more mad at us than she already is.

But I’m already marching straight to Lycan Tower.

Chapter 36

I’m in the Main Hall, still waiting for Connor to come back. What was I thinking asking Alaric to set me up with someone for this? He’s only making me feel even more desperate for this whole night to end.

Not because of this unsettling feeling of being watched. Not because I’m dreading the very possibility of bumping into people I don’t want to see. Not even because I’m generally miserable.

It’s because of this thought that’s so unbearable to me, I can’t even make myself bring it to the surface. The thought that now that he’s gone, I’ll be spending the rest of my life walking around with a gaping hole in my chest.

It’s for all those reasons that it actually makes me smile, when I see Serra coming towards me.

The smile slides off when I see the serious look on her face. She’s holding out a piece of paper with a map of the Lycan Forest on it. “I just can’t believe it,” she tells me. “I think I know where to find the fourth piece.”

My mind threatens to explode. “Already?”

She gives me a nod and hands me the map. “Now we only need to find a way for you to finally shift.”

I finish inspecting the map and then look up at her again. My heart starting to race, I say, “Leave that to me.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, but I’ve made up my mind. I don’t care how much I need to push. I’m doing this, and I’m doing it tonight. “Give me ten minutes to change and I’ll meet you there.”

She doesn’t look entirely convinced, but she gives me a sharp nod.

I rush out of the Main Hall and head straight to the Lycan Tower, disbelief keeping my mind blank.

Could it really all be over so soon?

But when I find myself on the landing in front of my room, I find the door ajar and I hear these rummaging sounds coming from inside.

What the…

My eyebrows pulling down, I rush inside only to find him moving about the room, throwing stuff into the suitcase lying open on my bed. I stop in the doorway, throwing daggers at him even as pain rips into me at the very sight of him.

He knows I’m here, but he doesn’t even look up. He just keeps walking around, grabbing stuff and throwing it into the suitcase with this intense look on his face.

My suitcase, my books, my fucking underwear.

“What, no boyfriend?” he finally grits out, still not even throwing a glance in my direction.

I ignore this. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand as I march over to him.

“Getting you out of here,” he says without stopping, “what does it look like?”

“I thought I made it clear I didn’t want to see you again,” I grit out.

“I suggest you get used to it,” he snaps flatly, still not stopping, “because you’ll be spending a lot of time looking at me.”

For a second, I just stare at him, trying to summon the strength to deal with this.

Then it occurs to me — that I don’t have to. “Fine, take it all with you. I couldn’t care less.” And I grab some clothes out of the drawer he hasn’t managed to pack yet and move to get out.

But his body is now filling the doorway and his eyes coming to fix on me, and against my will, they’re taking my breath away.

For a second, we just look at each other, his chest falling up and down.

“I know what happened,” he says in a serious, but soft voice. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out, huh?”

So it was him who gave Lorcan those bruises. But I don’t care.

I just gesture for him to let me pass.

“You know what hurts the most?” he demands as he tries to get in my face. I retreat back into the room. “That you didn’t even want to hear my side of the story.”

Hurts, that’s what’s echoing through my mind as I stare him down. Yeah right. The lying, manipulative bastard.

“It’s a story I’m no longer interested in,” I reply flatly.

He follows me with cautious steps, his body tense as if he’s expecting me to dart around him. As he should.

“He lied to me, too, Anna,” he insists as he holds a hand out. “Trust me, I didn’t know you were the reason he blackmailed me into coming here. He told me that the Academy was bleeding money and that my presence would get the investors interested again.”

“I don’t believe you,” I tell him defiantly, ignoring the hand and instead motioning for him to get out of my way again.

A muscle in his jaw jumps. “I’m not dragging you to fucking prison,” he grits out. He moves for me so fast, I can’t stop him from grabbing me by the elbow and pressing me closer to him. “I’m taking you somewhere safe,” he leans to whisper in my ear as I try to break my arm free. “You’re in danger, Anna. Please.”

It’s the fact that he’s still daring to call me by my first name and that I actually fucking miss him so much, I want to die, that makes me snap.

“Get your fucking hands off me,” I warn as I look up to throw daggers at him.

His nostrils flare in anger. He lets go of me and takes a step back. “I guess I’m not making myself clear enough,” he grits out as he folds his arms. “You only have two options here, Anna. You’re either coming with me, right now, or you’re getting your ass tied to the bed until you get your wits about you.”

I let out a bitter laugh as I make bolts of electricity start shooting out of my entire body, crackling and snapping their heads in his direction. “Go on, I’d like to see you try.”

Surprise flashes through his eyes. He takes a step back.

“Now let me pass,” I tell him in a voice threatening to fall apart.

He does. Stopping in the doorway, I turn to look at him. “And if I see your face ever again… you’re a dead man.”

***

It’s dark outside and everyone else seems to still be at the Ball, so there’s no need for me to sneak around. I just rush down the Tower stairs and step outside, turning right to slip into the Lycan Forest, where Serra will be waiting for me by the entrance into one of the caves.

It’s before I even reach the entrance into the forest that I sense him.

Frowning, I turn around to find Lorcan slowing to a stop in front of me. It surprises me, my level of indifference at seeing him, especially considering what kind of reaction he got out of me just earlier today.

Then again, there’s something very important I have to do right now.

He folds his arms, his eyes darting behind my back. “Lycan Forest, Miss Novak?” he asks with suspicion in his voice. “Planning a stroll?”

I give the busybody a little smile. “What else?”

He just observes me for a moment, his eyes narrowing and his lips pressing tight. “It might not be the best idea right now.”

“No?” I ask softly.

“No,” he says with a shake of his head. “Those stolen magic supplies I mentioned earlier today? Someone at the Academy seems to be working on some really dangerous magic and I’m afraid it’s got something to do with you. So why don’t you let me accompany you back into the Main Hall?”

He moves to take me by the arm.

Shaking my head, I take a step back. “I don’t think so. But thanks anyway.”

I turn on my heel only to find him blocking my way. He really doesn’t want me to go.

Interesting.

“What is it that you’re planning, Miss Novak?” he demands with a frown. “Need I remind you you still can’t even shift?”

I dive deeper into his eyes, my smile growing wider. “You know what, Professor MacArthur?” I say in a sweet voice, “I think it was just today that I told you to mind your own business.”

I turn my back to him and start leisurely walking straight for the entrance into the forest. It doesn’t matter how indifferent I feel to his appearance here. He’s acting even more suspicious than usual and it would be stupid of me to do anything to blow this.

There’s a moment of tense silence before he speaks. “Whatever it is you’re about to do,” he calls after me through gritted teeth, “you won’t be able to do it without your mate.”

I stop midstep, my muscles frozen in place, my unseeing eyes fixed ahead.

It’s like a silent explosion in my head. The eyes, the scent, the glow.

“What did you say to me?” I hear myself whisper as I slowly turn to look at him, my chest starting to heave.

Lorcan keeps observing me for a moment. “As the Aurora, Miss Novak,” he tells me with this weird look on his face, “you always have a mate.”

My mind is buzzing and blank at the same time. Gritting my teeth, I keep staring him down, an urge to murder him in cold blood starting to boil underneath my skin.

“It took me years to find a way to identify him,” he just continues, despite his eyes narrowing at me even more, “and I had to use less than admirable means to get him to come here and set things in motion, but there’s not a shred of doubt that you and—”

I get in his face, making him shut his mouth, his eyes rounding. “Don’t you dare finish that sentence,” I hiss in a low, hoarse voice.

There’s a moment of silence before I take a step back and he clears his throat, his jaw clenching. “Fine,” he spits out, “have it your way, but there are greater forces at work here, Miss Novak, and until you complete your bond with him—”

“You lying son of a bitch,” I cut him off with such poison in my voice. Mates are people you trust most in the entire world, not lying, manipulative bastards. I let out a bitter laugh as I shift my focus back onto Lorcan. “Don’t think for a second you can fool me into believing you again, let alone buying into something as pitifully absurd as that.” My face twists in disgust and anger. “So get the hell out of my way, or I swear to all the gods—”

“You’ll what?” he grits out just before I see his marks glow beneath his robe.

Before I can react, he’s slamming his fists into each other and I’m rapidly losing balance.

Shit.

The ground beneath me caves into itself and the next thing I know, I’m on all fours at the bottom of a hole deeper than my height.

I’m fucking fuming even before I hear him grit out, “You’re making me do things I don’t want to do, Miss Novak.”

It seems he knows exactly what I’m about to do and he’s hell bent on stopping me, but yeah… That’s not how we’re going to play.

It’s with such ease that I jump to my feet, swing my arm back and summon a crackling swirl of bolts. Gritting my teeth, I direct them straight into the ground below me and let go.

The force shoots me up into the air, I do a backflip and land softly on the ground between the hole and the man who put me there.

It gives me such satisfaction, when I see the surprise in his eyes.

My lips curl into a smile, but he quickly collects himself, his teeth gritting as he stares me down.

I feel all my muscles clench when I see him tense up and disappear, a huge bear coming to land in his place.

The bear doesn’t hesitate, it kicks itself off the ground and lunges over the hole, straight at me.

Stumbling back, I summon a whip and manage to snap it at him even before I regain my footing again.

Just as he lands, the whip wraps around his neck, making me let out a laugh.

The laugh dies down when he doesn’t let it tighten. He growls and shakes his head to get rid of it.

He lunges before I can summon another one.

There’s a split second when time seems to come to a stop, this giant bear with fury in its eyes rapidly filling up my field of vision.

My heart pounds.

For one beat, two.

Then, like the flip of a switch, my very existence in the meat sack I occupy becomes pure blinding pain and nothing else. It’s the physical anguish of suddenly being aware of everything that normally goes on in the background — all the bones moving in their joints, all the blood pumping through my veins, all the collisions of the world around me with my own senses.

Just as all the pain makes my entire body tense up to a point I feel can only be followed by it shattering to a million pieces…

This strange lightness sweeps over me like a soft exhale and I find myself standing on four paws instead of two legs.

I sniff at the air, catching a whiff of a familiar scent, the sound of the creature’s blood pumping through its veins pounding in my ears.

For a moment, I just keep standing there, my eyes lowering and narrowing at the tiny bear who seems to be frozen mid-movement in front of me, shock in its eyes.

Shock and this…

Awe?

I don’t wait to see its reaction. I can feel the power coursing through me, but there’s a strange, ominous silence as well, silence that makes me feel like I shouldn’t stay like this too long.

Just until I get away from the bear. I move for the forest again, its darkness and its smells and its inhabitants calling out to me, when I hear this low growl sound from behind my back.

I stop and turn around to see the bear lunging at me again, a split second before its maw closes around my hind leg.

The pain is searing, the blood is hot and the rage is blinding.

I shake the bear off and snap my teeth at him.

It doesn’t give up, moving to run around me and block my way.

I catch it mid-movement, closing my maw around its body and lifting it high up in the air, its legs thrashing as I dig my teeth deeper and deeper, this dark, shut-off part of me reveling in the pained sounds it makes.

I’m a hunter after all. It’s in my blood.

It takes effort, but I stop myself before I make its heart stop beating. I swing my head to the side and propel the bear through the night air, making sure it lands far away from me.

Then I turn around, I use my hind legs to kick myself off the ground and I dart into the woods, shifting back just as I start nearing the clearing with the cave.

***

“Ready?” Serra asks me as soon as I come to a stop in front of her. We’re in the clearing, the moon hanging low above our heads as we stand in front of a grassy mound with the mouth of the cave opening into the darkness below. I’m giving her my most expressionless face, fighting with all my strength not to think about anything that just happened with Lorcan — especially his lies — and focus on the task at hand.

It’s by the unmistakable, unsettling stench of the place that I know Serra was right. This is the spot where his last piece is buried.

“Yes,” I say with a nod. “Let’s go.”

She nods back and motions for me to follow. I have to duck to enter and keep my head down as we make our way through the dark, narrow passage.

My heart starts pounding long before we step onto the bottom of the cave and I stop, letting my eyes sweep over it all. It’s enormous and empty but shut off on all sides, the surrounding walls dimly lit with this unnatural, unsettling light and the dome above me swallowed by darkness.

I don’t take long to inspect it. My eye is irresistibly drawn to the rough pedestal at the front of the space.

Slowly, I get closer, sensing Serra following me. I get close enough to see it has a hole in its top and then a little closer still, to peer inside and find only darkness staring back at me.

The stench makes me grit my teeth and double back.

When I turn to my left to look at her, Serra’s looking at me with hesitation in her eyes. “Now that we’re here,” her voice echoes against the bare walls of the cave, “maybe you could try shifting again and—”

“Already did that,” I cut her off, choosing to ignore her hesitation for fear of it infecting me.

I don’t linger on the surprised look she throws me either. “I just want to get this over with,” I say with cold determination in my voice.

She doesn’t say anything. She just nods and gives me space, retreating out of my line of sight.

I stand straight, clearing my throat and closing my eyes.

Taking a deep breath, I visualize the first movement from my tattoos, for the vampire. Lifting my hands in front of my face, I make a cross sign with my two forefingers and start moving it in a slow circle.

It makes my breath catch, the energy that starts sweeping through my body.

It’s far from pleasant. In fact, it’s downright sickening, but it encourages me.

I jump straight to visualizing the fae movement. I use my forefingers and my thumbs to create a triangle and start tracing circles with that as well.

This makes me so sick, I have to stop. Gods, this is just… I grit my teeth, the world around me feeling a split second away from spinning off its axis. “I don’t feel good, Serra,” I hear myself girt out, a wince in my voice.

“Just push through it.”

I listen, clenching my jaw even harder, until I can force myself to take a deep breath.

I visualize the third movement, for the shifter. I make a circle with my hands and I start breaking it in two halves and putting it back together.

As soon as I do, it’s like I snap off the thread holding me in place and send myself shooting into a nauseating distance with growing darkness around me. It all makes me stop and bend, digging the heels of my palms into my thighs.

Wrong, this feels more wrong than anything I’ve ever done in my life.

Then this incredibly unsettling sensation starts creeping up my body, making my eyes round and my mind go blank when I realize what it is.

And it hits me, all at once, exactly what I’d done, my body surging with a sudden, violent dread.

Chapter 37

This is not good. 

Dread and adrenaline wreaking havoc in my mind and body, I try to scream for Serra, but my throat is constricted and no sounds are coming out.

Suddenly, I hear a cackle behind me.

I watch Serra slowly walk around me and peer into my eyes — as if inspecting me — a smug smile plastered on her face.

Serra… Pain and anger wash over me as my mind flashes with memories of all the times I let her help me, all the times I believed her, all the times I actually felt sympathy towards her.

My lower body is paralyzed, and there is strange energy in the air.

“What did you do?” I ask in a hoarse voice.

She looks at me and then stands straight. This is no longer the frail old woman I’ve come to know. She’s someone else entirely. She’s standing upright, her cane nowhere in sight, a strange energy emanating from her body.

It’s in a cool voice that she says, “The paralysis will take a moment longer, and it’s only then that the deep sleep will start setting in.” A smile dances on her lips. “Don’t worry, Anna, you should definitely get to see it.”

What the…

“It won’t be much longer now until I make you shift, and everything will fall into place.”

“Why are you doing this, Serra?”

“Why am I doing this?” she snaps as she gets in my face. “You are absolutely annoying, you know that? How many times have I had to play the poor weak old Serra and listen to your bullshit? You know nothing of the world, girl.”

I grit my teeth. “I thought I could trust you, I thought we shared the same values.”

She just looks at me for a second, obviously pissed. Then she lets out a laugh and goes to sit on the pedestal. “You think the two of us are the same?” she asks in an incredulous voice. “I know I told you things that day in the cafeteria, but you don’t really know what my life was like. You don’t really know what’s it like to be the only weak one in a dynasty of mighty people,” she says. 

She gets off the pedestal and starts approaching me with this unsettling spark in her eyes. “But then one day everything changed. Imagine a little girl working her way through her family’s library, and finding something more fascinating than anything she’d ever laid eyes on before. An image of Baldur.”

She keeps silent for a moment, still looking at me but seeming as if her mind is elsewhere.

“It spoke to me, Anna,” she says, her voice hushed and swelling with longing. “For some reason, I knew this man — this god among men — was my destiny. He will give me all the power I never had.”

Destiny… It makes me remember what she told me that day in the cafeteria — how it’s you making it, not the stars. She was talking about the prophecy, she wants to insert herself in it.

“Everything I did from that moment in time,” she says with a pensive laugh, “I did to get closer to Baldur. Eventually, while I was still studying at the Academy, I met this old fae who knew where the pieces were buried. It was the happiest day of my life.”

She pauses, seemingly snapping out of it and really looking at me again. “Until I found out I had no way of using the information to awaken him. Until I found out I needed someone called the Aurora.”

There’s bitterness in her voice and her eyes as she says this.

Slowly, she walks over to me. “It only took me ten years of working at the Academy to find out about the Order and make Lorcan initiate me into it. Then another twenty of sucking up to the man, waiting for you to show up.”

Despite knowing I won’t be able to do it, it makes me try to back off, when she slows to a stop in front of me. “Imagine my surprise,” she says, her eyes roaming all over my face, “when I learned that the famed Aurora was our little Scion Librarian.”

She’s not taking her eyes off me, but I can tell she’s done talking so I ask, “But how did you…” I don’t even know where to start.

She lets out a scoff. “How did I what? Manage to trick you into doing my bidding?”

I don’t say anything. I just keep looking at her, bile working its way up my throat.

She shrugs. “It wasn’t that hard,” she says, looking me up and down as she starts walking back to the pedestal. There, she takes a seat again, folding her hands on her thigh. “After all, I had spent three years working alongside you, Anna. I knew you were a smart girl with more than a healthy dose of distrust in others. Which is why I understood I had to make you think every step you took was your idea, no one else’s.”

I grit my teeth. “Yeah?”

“Yes,” she says with a smile. “The book, for example. I couldn’t just give it to you. Of course, it was supposed to be you who stumbled on it, not your little vampire friend. But it did find its way to you eventually.”

How could I have been this stupid? My nostrils flaring, I remain silent, but my silence only makes her laugh. “I also needed you to keep unlocking your powers,” she explains, “which is how Warsaw happened.”

My eyes round. “It was you who killed those people,” I say in a voice that’s barely above a whisper, “not the third piece.”

“Exactly,” she replies with a nod. “You were becoming too enthralled with your little mate, so I had to give you a little nudge, to reshift your focus.”

“If I didn’t use the moon stone to reestablish my connection with my wolf…”

“The third piece would have remained dormant.”

I know it would be smarter for me to come up with another question, another little distraction, but the paralysis is starting to reach my neck and my head is ringing, images of streets full of dead people flashing before my eyes.

She killed them all just to get me to take another step in actualizing my powers? It makes me significantly more afraid of what else she’s capable of doing. Is her Divine Magic that strong?

And then the realization hits me. It was a lie, that time she came to return the book and tell me what the central symbol is about.

It’s not Baldur, it’s the Aurora. It’s not Baldur the Bringer of Suffering, it’s Aurora the Bearer of Suffering.

It’s my own Aurora powers she made me block.

“What’s the plan, Serra, huh?” I demand through gritted teeth.

She keeps looking, waiting. My eyebrows pull down. Will she just be waiting for the fourth piece to come to life?

“The plan, my dear,” she says as she comes closer, “is to make you…” She leans into my ear. “Shift,” she finishes as blinding pain sears through my side.

A knife. There’s a knife in my stomach. 

The past, the present and the future — they’re all colliding in my brain into an explosion of destruction, death and pain. Summoning the ultimate evil. All of which I will have caused myself, again, by avoiding facing hard truths and trusting the wrong person.

I shut my eyes, desperation filling my entire being and making a single image come into focus in front of me.

Jericho.

I squeeze my eyes tighter while they fill with tears. I pushed him away. But now it’s all becoming so clear to me. I don’t care about anything that’s happened so far. I just want to be with him.

I hear her cackle in my ear. “We’re crying now, are we?” she asks mockingly. “Oh is this about your little shifter mate? He won’t be able to hear your thoughts, the bond isn’t complete.

Fuck you.

Pain sears through me, making me close my eyes shut, my teeth gritting as the blade enters deeper into my body.

“Shift, I said,” she spits out.

As I feel the knife get pulled out and hot blood pour out of me, I open my eyes and I give her a venomous smile. “Oh you think a little bit of pain will make me give in?” I ask, determined despite struggling to stay in control of my voice.

There’s a flash of surprise on her face.

My jaw clenching, I narrow my eyes at her. “You’ve no idea who I am or what I’ve managed to go through without even flinching. So bring it on. You’ll kill me before you make me help you.”

“I’ve let you stall long enough,” she comes to whisper in my ear, making my breath turn shallow and my nostrils flare. “And he won’t be coming to save you, you’ve made sure of it yourself.”

With the corner of my eye, I spot her lift her hand and I feel the blade’s edge press into my neck. “Shift, now. Or I swear on the Holy Word, I will make you suffer.”

“On the Holy Word, you say?” I ask with bitterness in my voice. “As if there’s something you find sacred.”

“I do,” she says forcefully, getting in my face. “You know what it is? Power instead of weakness.”

But her words are drifting to me as if through water. Slowly but steadily, the paralysis is starting to spread to my neck and I find myself in a growing haze, barely keeping my eyes open as my heartbeat starts slowing down.

Am I dying?

I no longer seem to see her or hear her. I’m turning blind to the world around me, my mind filling with images of Jericho.

This is it. I’ll never get to see him again, touch him again, smell him again. I’ll never get to find out what it would be like, to be with him for real. The very thought rips through me, more devastating than anything I’ve ever felt, its echoes alone strong enough to make me fall apart.

My heart breaks into a million pieces.

Then my mind fills with images of past lives, of all the things I’ve had to go through as the Aurora only to find myself failing all over again.

Then again, what does it matter…

In every lifetime, I try to take on all their pain.

In every lifetime, they only choose to create more of it.

It’s with that thought that I let go. The paralysis now spreading to my jaw, I let my gaze drop, my eyes filling with tears I’ll never see fall to the ground.

Still, at least I’ll finally get it — the promise of absolute nothingness.

Who knows?

Maybe this time’s the charm. Maybe this time…

I’ll stay dead.

***

I’m coughing something up, feeling the slight waning of the paralysis even before I open my eyes. My heart explodes as soon as I see him. Jericho, standing right before me, having forced a bitter liquid into my mouth.

My voice is a hoarse whisper when I say, “I thought I told you I’d kill you if I ever saw you again.”

“Sure,” he says in a tense voice. “And I’ll get on my knees for you to do it.”

He closes his fist, darkness now everywhere around me. Then the eyes appear, the darkness catching fire. “Just let me take care of this bitch first,” he comes to whisper into my ear.

There’s so much I want to say to him right now, but I’m still weak and groggy. “Jericho,” I plead just as he pulls back again.

There’s sadness, fear, something tender and a determination to hide it all in the wink he throws me. Then, as he tears his eyes away from me, I watch them overflow with hatred, the look sending shivers down my spine. I see Serra getting off the ground near the pedestal, an energy surrounding her.

“You,” his voice booms with that hard, bone-chilling cruelty I’ve only heard once before, the words gritted out, “are dead.”

His hands clench into fists and his body somehow gets bigger, tenser. “I will rip you to shreds,” he snarls as he gets moving. “But first, I make you suffer.”

There’s a movement I barely register.

Jericho stops midstep, groans and falls to his knees. Serra has her hand on the pedestal, this ominous glow emanating from it. She lets out a laugh. “You’re no match for me, Bane. Not anymore.”

For a second, I think all hope is lost, but then I see Jericho get up with a smirk on his face, taking something out of his pocket.

Almost too quickly for me to register, he throws something in the air, I hear the click of a lighter and I watch him blow into the flame, sending a blaze of wildfire in Serra’s direction, roaring as it illuminates the cave in an explosion of light.

I close my eyes. Instead of silence or sounds of struggling, what I hear is this faint, strange sound that reminds me of something spinning rapidly. I open my eyes, but Jericho is blocking my view.

“Fucking—” I hear him grit out and break off just as Serra appears in my line of sight.

She’s still far away from us, but she’s alive and well, smiling as she spins her cane in her hand with Jericho’s watchful eyes on her.

“It’s Air Magic, Jericho,” I struggle to warn him through half-paralyzed mouth, my heart plummeting as I realize she’s enchanted the cane to amplify her magic, allowing her to block the fire.

I watch her take a swing at the air with the cane, propelling a swarm of ethereal blades at him.

My eyes round, but he’s on his feet again and then there’s his hand in the air again, the click of the lighter and the explosion of wildfire, bigger than last time and fast enough to block the blades.

I breathe a sigh of relief, but the next thing I know, the fire is gone, she’s blocked it and she’s attacking again.

Then there it is again — the hand, the lighter, the explosion.

This time, though, before the fire clears out, I watch him turn to me, his chest heaving and these nasty gashes spewing blood down his shirt.

For a split second, he just stares at me, seemingly hesitating. Then he grits his teeth, this fiercely determined look in his eyes making mine round just as he tears them away and I realize what’s happening.

He’s going all in, for me.

The next thing I know, I’m watching his fox coming to land on all fours, its body tensing for a split second before it lunges.

Then there’s chaos filled with snarling, teeth snapping and short, staggered cries sounding from everywhere around me.

I struggle to keep track of Serra’s panicked movements as she tries to use her Air Magic to get away from the fox.

I spot her high on the wall to my right, pressing herself tight against it as she keeps trying to climb out of reach, but the fox is already kicking itself off the ground and digging its claws into the earth to her sides, its maw opening on a snarl.

It opens and closes shut around her neck, a blood-curdling scream piercing the air.

The very next moment, the fox jumps down, jerking its head with Serra’s broken body in its teeth. He’s finishing the job.

I watch him toss her onto the ground. He’s breathing heavily and his focus is still on the body on the ground before him, but he’s alive and well. My paralysis has dissipated a bit, and I breathe the biggest sigh of relief.

I open my mouth to call out to him, to make him come to me, when I hear it.

The fox hears it, too, I can tell by the way it tenses up.

The low, unsettling chuckle coming from Serra’s body.

She’s standing on broken legs, with the cane in her broken arms. Disfigured, but most definitely alive.

The fox growls.

It all happens so fast. Watching him lunge at her again, I’m yelling, “Jericho, please, no,” while she’s doing a movement with the fingers of her right hand, making her Runes glow and sending another, much more powerful swarm of blades at him. Her laughter is downright maniacal.

My head snaps to my right, where I see him being sent flying back and hitting the wall with a whimper.

I hear myself let out a pained wail.

As soon as he slides down to the ground, he starts trying to get up, but it hurts just looking at all the wounds on his body.

That doesn’t make Serra slow down. She tries to use her cane again, tossing it to the side when she realizes it’s spent, but that only makes her take something out of her pocket and throw it in his direction.

I watch seeds fall around him, the ground almost instantly cracking and roots shooting out to wrap around his entire body. He’s snarling and thrashing, maybe even trying to shift back, but it’s useless.

“I thought I told you you were no match for me, kitty cat,” I hear Serra grit out as she starts approaching him, taking the knife out of her pocket.

“I have him inside me, almost all parts of him. None of you can stop me now. Though you were a tougher nut to crack than I thought you’d be, Bane. I’m going to enjoy killing you.”

I barely hear her last words. I finally see it — the strange, faint glow coming through the nasty wounds he inflicted on her.

The realization hits me like a cold wave. The graying strand of hair…

She used Divine Magic to fuse Baldur’s pieces to her own body. 

Realizing how powerful she must still be, it makes all my hope turn to dust and sends my mind reeling as I watch her keep dragging herself over to him.

The fear is so overwhelming, but so is the determination.

I muster all my strength and manage to free my right hand.

Without a second of hesitation, I reach for the moonstone and I mercilessly yank it out, feeling my wolf take a lungful of air.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, hoping she’ll feel how much exactly, “you were right about everything. I did horrible things and I never listened to a word you said and now it's all—”

“Just let me out,” she grits out, albeit softly, “and everything will be alright.”

***

It feels right this time, when my paws hit the ground.

Mine. No one hurts what’s mine.

Just as a snarl begs to be let out and my body moves to lunge, this sickening energy makes me turn my attention onto the pedestal.

I freeze in place, my eyes rounding when I see it — the faint light coming from the hole in the top. The very next moment, I see a glowing fang slowly lifting into the air.

No no no, how could I have forgotten what would happen if I shifted? My eyes dart from left to right, my mind going straight back to reeling as soon as it hits me.

I look at Serra and see a smirk on her face.

“Thank you, Anna,” she tells me, “I knew you could do it.”

She does a movement, makes her Runes glow and lets her Air Magic get her to the pedestal. She is going to get the last piece.

My eyes dart from her to Jericho. If I choose to help Jericho, she will bring Baldur back to life. But the vines are constricting and my mind threatening to break at the very thought of losing him. 

I don’t even throw another glance at the fang again.

I clench all my muscles and I lunge, blinding fear coursing through my body. I get to Jericho and I don’t waste time inspecting him closely, partly for fear of what it will do to me. I just start using my teeth to tear into the roots holding him down. It’s hard trying to be gentle and fast at the same time, but I think I’m just about to set him free, not even paying attention to what Serra is doing, when I feel the touch of a paw on my front leg.

I freeze. I look up at him, and as soon as I do… It’s like time stands still, the first time our animals look each other in the eyes. Something snaps in me, the most intense warmth spreading throughout my entire being.

Anna, I hear his voice in my head. 

Jericho. I feel my power now, and it takes almost no effort to start taking his pain from him, making his body start healing in front of my very eyes.

It’s this mumbling coming from behind me that snaps me out of it. I jump on all fours, turning around to see Serra standing in front of the pedestal with her back turned to me.

I can see her Runes glowing.

I let out a snarl, but before I can lunge at her, she turns around, the look on her face making me freeze. She’s smiling this strange smile, her eyes as clear as they were before Jericho almost killed her.

She’s already absorbed the fang.

Snarling, I kick myself off the ground, opening my maw, delirious with thirst for her blood, only to have her send me flying back with a single wave of her hand.

It makes me whimper, the pain shooting through my back when it hits the wall of the cave and making me shift back.

Slowly, she starts walking over to me, her body twitching but that strange smile only growing wider. It’s right next to Jericho that she stops though.

“He sure is a handsome one,” she says in a voice that now has an ethereal quality. “I’d say I’d hate to kill him, but…”

I watch her lift her left hand in the air.

That same mix of unbearable fear and rage floods me.

Only this time, because I know exactly who I am now and I’m finally here, I let it light up every atom of my boundless being.

I close my eyes, concentrating all the energy in all of the nature around me into a single point.

I open my eyes, sending it all back into her body. A beat, two.

Her body explodes, torn from limb to limb. Pieces of her land all over the cave.

I look over to Jericho, still trapped and bloody.

Please be alright.

Don’t you worry about me.

I almost breathe a sigh of relief, when I hear footsteps drawing near, the sound echoing against the walls of the cave. 

I see Lorcan’s figure appear before me.

Dread echoes through me, but only for that single moment before everything turns black.

Chapter 38

It’s a knock that stirs me from sleep, every muscle in my body tense and my head aching all over. I guess I’ve drifted off again. When I open my eyes, I find the situation in my hospital room just the way it was when I last closed them.

There’s the TV across from my bed, turned off so it doesn’t show any news of the death of a certain Professor of Divine Magic from the famous Grimm Academy.

There’s Alaric and Raven sitting at the table between my bed and the door, playing cards and waiting for every opportunity to bombard me with offers of another pillow or some other small comfort.

Then there’s the man whose warm, healed-up body I’m nestled against, whom I’ve found awake every time I stirred from sleep during the last forty eight hours and who just keeps holding me and looking at me in silence, seemingly waiting for me to finally get enough sleep and possibly even sensing all the confusion in me.

Right now, though, his entire body is tense and his eyes are fixed on the door.

It’s Alaric who gets up and checks who it is, craning his neck to say, “Professor MacArthur.”

Then he keeps standing there, raising his eyebrows at me.

I guess I should just get it over with.

First things first though. I turn to look at him, every fiber of my being recoiling at the very thought of losing contact with his body, but I can’t have him glued to me like this with Lorcan in the room. It’s confusing enough even when it’s just Raven and Alaric here with us.

He seems to understand what I want. He doesn’t like it, but he slips out from under me and gets off my bed to take a seat on the chair to my left.

Taking a deep breath, I turn to give Alaric a nod, already feeling the coldness seeping into my bones from not having him next to me. Gods, I know the bond is still newly forged, but this is just absurd.

“You’re awake,” Lorcan says as soon as my friend lets him in and goes back to sit at the table.

“I am,” I reply as I watch him come to a stop near the door. I’m surprised to see I’m not struggling with talking like I did yesterday. In fact, I seem to be all healed-up, only the headache and the tension lingering in my body.

For a second, Lorcan just looks at me. Then he walks over to my bed and comes to a stop in front of me, taking a deep breath before he grits out, “I’ve come to offer an apology, Miss Novak. If I didn’t act like such a brute that night in front of the Lycan Forest, maybe none of this would have happened.”

I observe him for a second, my eyes narrowing. “You mean, if you didn’t spend the whole of last year making a fool out of me?”

“I thought it was necessary,” he spits out. “Besides, it’s not like you Scions are known for your—”

“What, Lorcan?” I cut him off. “We’re not known for what? And am I Scion, really?” I let out a laugh. “I respected you, you know? For quite a while after we first met. All I ever wanted from you was to give some of that respect back.”

I watch him hesitate. “Well, it’s all water under the bridge now.” He clears his throat and turns all official. “I know that the path of the Aurora is not for me to foresee, but I would just like to use this opportunity to offer the Order’s gratitude and tell you that if you ever need us, we will be there.”

It’s still with such condescension that he says it all, but it’s an apology nevertheless. “Thank you.”

He nods. Then he turns on his heel and walks away.

I shake my head, turning to Raven and Alaric. “That man… I don’t know how many times I’d need to save the world for him to stop hating me.”

“Yeah,” Alaric mutters as the both of them take their seats around my bed. “I don’t think he hates you. When he brought you two back to the Academy, he actually seemed quite upset, going on and on about you stubborn girls making his life miserable.”

We stubborn girls? That makes me frown, but I dismiss it. I let out a laugh. “Of course he was upset. I don’t think I ever said I thought the man was a monster. I just rub him the wrong way and there seems to be nothing I can do to change that.”

“Well,” Alaric says with a sigh as Raven and him get off my bed and go back to their table.

“You should eat,” I hear Jericho cut in, my heart skipping a beat as I turn to look at him. “Is there anything you’re in the mood for?”

“He’s right, Anna,” Alaric agrees, “you finally look like you won’t be drifting straight back to sleep. Maybe jump on the opportunity.”

Raven nods vigorously.

Still, eating is the last thing on my mind right now. “Thank you, but I’m not hungry,” I turn to tell Jericho.

It’s so strange to me right now, this thing between us, that I immediately shift my focus back onto Alaric, trying to break the tension by smiling and demanding, “And since when are you such a mother hen?”

It surprises me, when the smile slides off his face. “Since I spent the night partying while my friend was in mortal danger,” he grumbles and looks away.

“Hey,” I protest, pushing myself up as a frown creases my forehead.

But to my surprise, it’s Raven who keeps comforting him. “We didn’t know what was going on, Alaric. Even Anna understands that,” she says, putting her hand on his. She turns to me. “Don’t you, Anna?”

My eyebrows shoot up. Are they… Then I remember to nod, doing it so vigorously, I make my headache worse. “Of course I do. In fact,” I continue in a gentle but warning tone, “I expressly forbid you from ever again entertaining a single thought like that.”

Alaric grumbles, but then Raven presses a kiss to his cheek, making him go from sullen straight to beaming.

“Alright then,” he says, warmth spreading through my chest as I watch them go back to playing cards.

Then it hits me. “Hey,” I protest, making them both turn to look at me again, “you’ve been cooped up in here for the past two days. I demand you go out, grab something to eat and maybe start packing, like, right now. You have a whole summer ahead of you.”

They exchange a look, but then they smile and come to give me hugs. The smiles they throw Jericho on their way out are a little tense, but warm.

I watch them close the door, delaying tearing my eyes away from it for another moment.

It pains me because all I really want is for him to go back to holding me, but at the same time…

I’m lost. I’m shocked. I’m mad.

Finally, I turn to look at him and I ask, “Could you leave for a bit too, maybe grab something to eat? I just need a couple of hours to myself.”

For a moment, he keeps sitting there, things visibly at war in his head. Then he gets up, says, “Of course,” and leaves the room.

***

I let my feet take me out of the harsh June sun and into the soft, bright shadows of the Lycan Forest, in the direction of the spot where I completed my first ritual.

I need solitude, so I can unwrap all the conflicting feelings about that moment back in the cave when the bond between us snapped in place. I don’t know why then and not before. Maybe because there was something more real in that moment — when we both thought the other could die — than there was in any moment that led to it.

Whatever the reason for it finally clicking, it was in that moment that I learned two things. One, Lorcan sure as hell wasn’t lying when he said that Jericho Bane was my mate.

Two, unlike me, Jericho Bane himself wasn’t in the least surprised by the fact.

What that does to me is make me feel... confusion, shock and anger all at once. So right now, it doesn’t really matter to me that I know for sure he didn’t spend the last year trying to sabotage me so I wouldn’t awaken my powers. He did something worse, or maybe it feels worse because of the kind of bond we now share, but the result is the same.

It’s way before I reach the clearing where he lit the fire that night that I sense him. It makes me let out a soft scoff — how much it doesn’t surprise me that my feet would take me straight back to him less than half an hour after I told him I needed space.

I find him getting off the tree stump he was sitting on, his eyes coming to land on me and sucking me in, just like they did the first time I ever saw them.

For a second, we just stand there, looking at each other. It makes me feel exactly how sure my wolf is about this, but me…

“Why here?” I ask.

He glances around and then turns his eyes back onto me. “It was the first time I saw you be yourself. I feel connected to you here.”

The words make me warm around the heart, which only makes things worse. I contemplate leaving and coming back after I’ve thought about it, like I planned to.

Then, my jaw starting to clench, I realize what it is that I really need. What I really need is to get him to talk and see exactly when and how the asshole will mention never telling me we were goddamn mates.

“This bond thing,” I say, “it doesn’t mean we should be together.”

It surprises me, when he just keeps standing there, all intense yet soft somehow.

Frowning, I start to pace, feeling his eyes on me. “We have completely opposing interests, ambitions, worldviews…”

When he still doesn’t say anything, I just keep talking, albeit a little more forcefully. “When you think about it, there are many more reasons for us not to do it than there are reasons for us to do it.”

His persistent silence getting me flushed, I come to a stop, turn to face him and grit out, “Will you say something, goddamn it?”

“I was waiting for you to get to what really troubles you,” he tells me in a low, soft voice. Then he starts walking over to me. “But that’s alright. I have all the patience in the world, Anna.”

I frown at him.

He takes a pen and a piece of paper from his pocket and says, “Why don’t we make a list?”

There’s something in his voice that piques my curiosity. “Yeah, why don’t we?” I agree, motioning for him to start. Put ‘lying asshole’ right on top while you’re at it, I think to myself.

He does start writing stuff down, but then he just rips the paper in half and locks eyes with me. “There,” he says as he drops the pieces to the ground. “Reasons we shouldn’t be together don’t interest me, Anna. I love you and I just want to be with you, wherever that takes me.”

The combination of ignoring the elephant in the room and all this sudden sweet-talking… It angers me. “Be that as it may, the way you see the world… It’s just so different from the way I see it and that’s important to me.”

There’s both hurt and defiance in the look he throws me, making me shake my head and soften my voice. “Look, you saved me, Jericho.”

He grits his teeth and looks away, as if he’s not exactly agreeing with the statement. “No, you did,” I insist, “selflessly, and I’ll forever be grateful for that, but you still think people should just let the world burn—”

“That’s not true,” he snaps and quickly collects himself, looking deeper into my eyes. “Not anymore at least.” He sighs and throws his arms up. “Look, I’m not gonna lie. I’d still choose you over the world and do it without a second thought, but you have made me want to be a better man and there’s no turning back now.”

“Really?”

He doesn’t say anything. He frowns, then takes his phone out and dials a number without bringing it to his ear.

It’s Colin’s voice I hear from the other side of the line. “Hello, Mister—”

“Colin, what did we talk about this morning?”

“Um, the plans for the shelters for homeless minors. Are you alright—”

“Thank you, Colin.” He hangs up and says, a touch of hesitation in his voice, “The dirty money being put to good use, I thought even the Chosen One would approve. And there’s a lot more that can be done.”

I just look at him for a second. “I’m happy for you,” I say, swallowing around a lump in my throat.

It’s sudden, the movement that ends with him pressed against me, his arms around my back and his breath tickling my ear. “I want you to be happy for us,” he whispers. “I’ll be giving you all the space you want, but you need to know, there is no end to my love for you, Anna.”

“No end, really?” I demand as I pull away and take a few steps back. I fold my arms. “Tell me then, how many times did you accuse me of hiding something?”

Surprise flashes through his eyes. Then it turns into understanding, making his eyebrows pull down and his voice drop. “Is that what—”

“Yeah, it is,” I snap. “I know I lied to you, many times, and I’m sorry for every time I did. I know I hid stuff from you, and I’m sorry about that, too.” I get in his face and I fail to stop myself from letting some of the hurt surface. “But you, you hid something so big, Jericho.”

For a second, he just blinks at me. “I could tell you were confused, Anna,” he rushes to say, taking a step closer as worry and regret start to twist his features. “I just didn’t realize you were hurt. You can’t even imagine how sorry—”

“Fine, you’re sorry,” I cut him off. “How long, that’s what I want to know. How long did you know? Did Lorcan tell you when he blackmailed you to come here?”

He looks away for a second. “MacArthur never even mentioned you to me,” he says as he turns his eyes back onto me, his teeth gritting, “but I knew from the moment I first saw you. I mean, I felt it the moment I first laid eyes on you. I only realized what was going on when you broke the glass and I felt the energy coming off you.” He gives me a pleading look. “Please believe me when I say I didn’t realize this would affect you in any way, simply because—”

“You’re not being serious,” I protest with a scoff. “You didn’t realize this would affect me? Do you know how many times during the past year I’ve found myself wondering if I’m losing my goddamn mind? But easy for you, you knew exactly what was going on with you all that time.”

“Easy for me?” he grits out as he gets in my face, swinging an arm to the side. “It was pure fucking torture. One minute I’m minding my own business, the next it’s all about Anna Novak all the fucking time,” he rants, his voice turning mocking, “replaying her words, craving her attention, dreaming about her wanting me the way I wanted her.” He shakes his head and digs his fingers into his hair only to lower his arms again. “I did so many things I really didn’t want to do, I hired people to dig up info on you, I found myself stalking you when you stopped coming to classes, I failed to resist you that night in the forest like I’ve never failed at anything else in my—”

“Yeah, I’m sorry it was hard for you,” I cut him off, his words only putting salt on my own wound, “but I want to know why you never told me.”

He lets out a pent-up breath and shrugs. “The same reason I didn’t think my not telling you would affect you. I was convinced it was a one-way street.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. While I was barely controlling myself around you, you were breezing in and out of class as if I wasn’t even there.” He lets out a frustrated laugh. “That is, when you weren’t telling me I was the worst person alive or ordering me to get away from you.” He shakes his head and looks down at the ground. “It seemed that you being my mate was right where it both started and ended.”

“You’re talking about before,” I protest. “It doesn’t explain why you didn’t tell me after we started having sex, after the Ball, when it should’ve been pretty clear to you it’s not exactly one-sided.”

“Alright,” he says. “You might not like it though.”

Fighting not to groan in frustration, I just nudge him to start talking.

He takes a deep breath, looking away in search of words. “I still thought you were only attracted to me,” he starts as he locks eyes with me again, “but there was hope that it could turn into something more, and I was afraid I’d scare you off if I told you, or put a kind of pressure on you that would simply be unfair to put on you, especially under the circumstances.”

It makes my anticipation build when he pauses, wincing a little but not taking his eyes off me. “But to be honest… I was used to people not having any power over me, Anna.” His eyes soften. “Then you showed up, I took one look at you and I knew it in my bones — that I was yours to do with as you please.” His jaw clenches as he throws me an apologetic look. “So, even after the Ball, I guess there was still a part of me that just couldn’t handle it, especially for fear of this truly ending up being a one-way street, an unrequited love that would ultimately destroy me from within.”

For a moment, I just look at him, my anger dispersing and my eyes filling with tears. “Your feelings for me, do you still have a problem with them?”

He shakes his head and comes to drop on his knees before me, wrapping his arms around my waist and pressing his face to my chest. “You’d started changing me even before the month of pure torture that was my life after you ended things with me. I was a stupid, stupid man, but I’d do anything for you, anything to make you forgive me, to take away the pain, to make us start over.”

At a loss for words, I just lift my hand and run my fingers through his hair, both me and my wolf reveling in his touch.

“I’ve always had this immense drive, Anna,” he says pensively, lazily, making me imagine his eyelids dropping like a cat’s in the sun, “searching for something higher and turning the more restless and bitter the longer I couldn’t find it.”

He turns his head to nuzzle his nose against my stomach, making that infuriating need for him start swelling inside me. Squirming to make him loosen his grip, I get down on my knees with him, his arms coming to wrap around my waist and mine around his shoulders.

“Then I found you,” he keeps going, tugging me closer and lowering his head to press his forehead to mine, “and that was it for me.” He starts lazily stroking my back, making my eyes flutter shut and shivers run down my spine. “It’s like everything I ever went through has been leading up to this point in time, and now all I want from the rest of my life is to make you the happiest woman alive. You’re everything to me, Anna,” he whispers against my lips, “my comfort and my passion, my dreams and my reality, my sun and my moon.”

At first, I don’t say anything. I just stay in the moment, feeling all my desire and love for him come crashing down on me. Then I take the collar of his shirt in one fist and come to whisper in his ear, my voice dripping with desire, “I need you, Jericho.” I sense him tense up, his hands freezing on my back. “Right now.”

I don’t register exactly how it happens, but I find myself on my back, breathless with his hips between my legs and his face hovering above mine, the features twisted with unconcealed lust. His nostrils flaring and his chest heaving, he takes a single, hungry inhale of my neck before our hands start fumbling in a clumsy effort to tear the clothes off each other.

There are no games being played this time. Swelling with longing for him, I shower him with bites as he mumbles sweet nothings into my ear, before he pulls away, clamps his hands around my ass and brings the core that’s already throbbing for him to his greedy mouth.

When the flicks of his tongue start threatening to push me over the edge, I pull at his hair and almost instantly get his naked weight pressing into me.

I look into his eyes, for the first time in my life feeling like I truly belong to someone. The eyes dive deep into mine, deeper than ever before, the gaze turning into a languid kiss that hides nothing and gives everything.

And the more it gives, the more I want, my body becoming restless to become one with him again. It makes a gasp escape me, when I feel him push himself inside me, my eyes rolling back, my legs wrapping tight around him and my fingers digging into the flexing muscles of his shoulders. “It’s been a whole month,” he grits out as he starts thrusting, “you can’t do this to me ever again, Anna.” Then he slides a hand between us and starts working my clit with his thumb, making my hands start blindly grabbing onto his back. I just mumble something about missing him so much, meeting each thrust with growing urgency until I’m writhing under his body, completely losing myself in finally getting to feel all of him.

It all ends quicker than ever before. When our movements become desperate, I thread my fingers through his hair, I pull his head back and I take his bottom lip between my teeth. I give it a bite and the bite turns into a deep kiss that gets us moaning into each other’s mouths and flying over the edge together.

***

It’s in this blissful haze that I keep lying beneath the tree, propped up on one elbow, playing with that lighter of his with his arms tight around me and the entire length of his body pressed against mine. I’ve told him everything there is to know about me. I think I’ll still have to have a talk with him about letting my father be, this worry gnawing at me at the very thought of him trying to get revenge on someone who is a human, sure, but still a powerful one. But right now, I’m just enjoying everything being out in the open with the man who makes me feel like I’ve come home for the first time ever. “Where did you get this?” I ask as I keep staring at the lighter, something stirring inside me at the very sight of it.

“A bazaar in Morocco,” he says as he keeps stroking the skin of my upper arm. “The guy ripped me off, but I just had to have it.” Then he leans to whisper in my ear, “I want to whisk you away, Anna, but I’ve gotten an impression that you don’t exactly like surprises.”

“As long as you get me back in time for the next Opening Ceremony,” I say with a lazy smile, “I’m up for anything really.”

“Oh I like the sound of that,” he growls as he takes a bite out of my neck. “Does that mean you’d be up for me sticking around even after the Opening Ceremony? Or would that be too much for my little she-wolf?”

This makes me stop playing with the lighter, my breath catching. It’s not like I haven’t given any thought to the actual future. Now that the whole Aurora thing is over, I’ll be able to focus on truly mastering shifting, getting that Archivist position back and finding more causes for Jericho to spend all that money on.

But this… I was avoiding thinking about this. I slide out of his arms to prop myself on both elbows and turn to frown at him, all breathless when I ask, “You’d do that?”

I find him resting his head on his palm and staring at me with eyes brimming with love. “I sure as hell am not planning on letting you out of my sight either way. If you don’t want me to come back as a professor, I’ll find some other way to be close to you.”

“No,” I say with a vigorous shake of my head, “I’d love that so much.”

“Yeah?” he groans with a lazy grin just as I feel his hand close around my ass, squeezing tight. “You’d let me follow that ass around the castle?”

I roll my eyes at him. “Just don’t call me ‘babe’ like you did in the Vein and we’ll be fine.”

“Oh I only did that because I knew you wouldn’t like it,” he says with a smirk.

“Really?” I drawl.

“Yeah,” he says as he leans to give me a kiss. “Besides, I already have a name for you.”

I raise my eyebrows.

The hand loosens its grip on my ass and starts traveling up and down my thigh, while his eyes wander over to the silent forest around us. “It’s something I stumbled on this one time I went to West Africa on business.” This piques my interest even more. “I saw this sign somewhere, and that’s not what it was written there, not exactly at least, but the writing made this other word flash through my mind. Ifeanyi or Anyi for short,” he says, pausing to look deep into my eyes as the memory explodes inside me. “It means—”

“I know what it means,” I interrupt him softly.

There’s no other. Or, my one and only.

I lift my fingers to trace the curve of his lips. “You know, you’ve called me that before.”

“I know,” he says with a smile. “And I guess I’ve always known. It was just… hard to believe.”

I let out a laugh. “You know what I can’t believe?”

“What?”

“My happiness,” I say as I let my head fall to the ground, humming with pleasure while I stretch like the carefree little she-wolf that I am.

For a second, he just looks at me. Then he grabs me, flips me over so I’m straddling him and lifts his head to whisper into the corner of my lips, “It’s really not fair, what you do to me, Anna.”

I smile and bury my face in his neck to inhale his scent, my mind rushing to what he said about whisking me away and filling with images of the kind of future I never thought I’d have.

Reader Beware!

Hi there, I’m Lyra, the author of this story.

Listen, I really want to stay friends, and as a friend, there’s something I need to tell you.

If you wanted to read a nice happy story, you should stop right here.

Beyond this page, there lurks a very steep cliffhanger.

A cliffhanger that might send your kindle flying to the wall.

A cliffhanger that might make you hate me.

And as I said, I want to stay friends.

I’m serious. Stop.

Stop reading now.

No?

Ok then, but don’t go blaming me when your heart shatters into a million pieces.

And then you realise the next book is not out yet.

By flipping the page, you READ AT YOUR OWN PERIL.

You have been warned.

Chapter 39

The Academy is buzzing. It’s on autopilot that we walk out of the first class of the year and keep strolling down the hallway leading to the Entrance Hall. Alaric and I are barely suppressing yawns, while Raven seems to be just as clear-eyed as she was before Professor Byrne showed up.

“Well, that was anti-climactic,” Alaric drawls.

“Yeah, especially after yesterday,” I reply with a smile, referring to the most spectacular Opening Ceremony ever, but my mind is on Alaric’s arm wrapped around Raven’s waist.

Warmth is spreading through my chest at the very sight of my friends’ happiness, making me wonder what it is I did to deserve this absurd amount myself.

Then I see the puzzled look on Raven’s face. “What is it, Raven?” I ask just as we start crossing the Entrance Hall.

She blinks at me. “I don’t think it’s anti-climactic. I think it’s exciting.”

“Professor Byrne’s yapping?” Alaric asks with a frown. “Really?”

“No,” she says, shaking her head. She hesitates for a second before she explains. “I’ve never been a second-year student before and the thought is… appealing.”

Alaric and I slow to a stop at practically the same moment, making her follow suit, her eyebrows shooting up at us. He comes to press a delighted kiss against her cheek and I give them their moment, but as soon as we start walking again, I turn to squeeze my friend’s hand and beam at her. “You’ll be the very best second-year student, Raven,” I tell her with conviction, “I just know it.”

“Hey,” Alaric grumbles, “what about me?”

“Meh,” I reply with an unimpressed face.

The two of us burst out laughing, Raven’s eyes darting from one to another with this warmth in her eyes.

It’s in front of the Junkyard that I throw them a wave, saying, “See you later then.”

Alaric throws me one of those “What’s this now” looks as he comes to a stop, both Raven and I following suit. “Junkyard,” he says as he gestures at it, “hello.”

I laugh, but I shake my head. “I have training with Jericho.”

“Come on,” he says, “I know you’re eager to keep working on becoming the best shifter ever, but be a sport and at least come assert your dominance in the Junkyard so we can get better spots this year.”

“Sorry, don’t want to be late.”

“Whipped much?” he teases.

I roll my eyes at him and throw Raven another wave. Then I turn on my heel and keep walking to the gym.

As if on cue, there’s the feeling that floods me only when it’s him I’m about to see — an infuriatingly delicious tugging between comforting warmth and sharp thrill.

This time, though, there’s the anxiousness as well. I told him I wanted to know as soon as he found out what Lorcan had decided — whether we’ll be getting the request for a shared room approved.

Frowning, I turn the last corner before the gym and keep walking down the hallway. I thought we’d be getting news well before we met for training.

It’s not like it doesn’t happen, I tell myself. Professors bunk with their spouses all the time and, well, this particular professor’s spouse does happen to be a student, but I’m thirty years old, I won’t be in any of his classes, and any training he’ll be doing with me will be our private business.

Besides, once I graduate, I’ll finally be taking on the role of Archivist, and our situation will be exactly the same as everyone else’s.

Still, it worries me that — as the Head of my House — Lorcan is the one we had to put in the request with.

Sure, it’s easy for Alaric to laugh, but it’s no laughing matter to either of us. I’d want to be here and work on truly mastering my shifting even if I weren’t forced to, but my man is here because of me, and even this one night we had to spend apart was not pleasant.

When he called me last night, he told me it’s supposed to get easier with time, although he didn’t sound too convinced. It was proving hard to be apart even before the bond, but now…

I come to a stop in front of the gym we had our first actual training session in, hearing an excited murmur coming from behind the closed door.

To make things more complicated, it’s only been a couple of months since that whole shitstorm Serra stirred up. We’re all doing our best to move on, but the echoes are still there, most visible in the way Jericho can’t seem to relax when it comes to the matter of, well, anyone who ever tries to get in any kind of contact with me. Letting me just walk around the Academy unaccompanied… I know for a fact it’s showing a huge effort on his behalf at respecting my autonomy and doing everything he can to keep me truly happy.

And he is. This is the happiest I’ve ever been and the happiest I believe anyone can even be.

So the least I can do is not be late. I open the door and step inside.

I stop as soon as I see my man trying to herd a bunch of first-years out of the room, while they just seem to be too eager to share their experiences after their first practical class. The contrast with that first class I witnessed him teach makes me almost let out a laugh. The kids are just as reverent around him, but instead of looking intimidated, they’re… relaxed.

When he spots me, he doesn’t stop walking, but as always, his eyes suck me in and keep me there for what seems like an eternity.

He tears them away and slows to a stop, making the students’ chatter die down even before he addresses them. “Yeah, I don’t think I hear a single question that can’t wait till next time.”

There are a few grumbles, but then they all just keep chatting as they rush to make themselves scarce, leaving their professor standing there, looking at me like prey.

As soon as the last of them walks out, he motions for me to lock the door, sending my heart racing when he starts stalking over to me. I let the pull take me to him, my lips tugging into a blissful smile.

“Novak, is it?” he demands, throwing me this super serious little squint just as he wraps his arms around my waist and tugs me close. I throw my arms around his shoulders, fighting to put on a straight face as I say, “Correct.”

He leans to whisper against my lips, his voice turning husky, “Well, if ever I saw a lost cause…”

Laughter bubbles up my throat. “Damn it,” I curse teasingly, “does that mean I won’t be getting lessons with the hot professor?” I take my hands off his shoulders. “I’ll just go fling myself off Graf Hill then,” I say as I move to get out of his arms.

Before I know it, he’s gripping the backs of my thighs, hoisting me up and getting my legs around him. “Oh you’re not going anywhere, smartass,” he growls into my ear, making my breath catch and my heart pound.

He inhales me, spins me around and then lowers himself on the edge of his desk with me straddling him. Forgetting all about training, we start losing ourselves in a kiss, when I hear his phone start ringing in his shirt pocket.

Colin. It has to be Colin.

The focus of my excitement shifting, I break the kiss and take the phone out.

“Not now, Anna—”

“Oh come on, Jericho,” I say as I get the screen in front of his face to show him who it is. “Take it. It’ll only take a second, and maybe he’s finally calling with news about the project.” I grin.

He expels a frustrated breath, but he does take the phone. Just not before he squints at me and says, “My wife sure does like spending my money.”

I shrug. “It’s like, the sole reason she agreed to marry you, so...”

He throws me a playful scowl and answers the call. “This better be important, Colin.”

I let my eyes roam his face as I listen to Colin’s faint voice from the other side of the line. I only make out an occasional couple of words, but when he says “ready to break ground,” Jericho locks eyes with me to give me a wink.

Finally. It makes me grin, when I visualize the day the shelters will open their doors, plans for the next thing already being set in motion. There’s not a lot we won’t be able to do with all that money. Then my man’s scent and his proximity start to distract me again. I start running my hands up his chest, leaning in to inhale him. He grumbles, grabbing my wrist in warning.

“Alright, thank you, Colin,” I hear him cut the conversation short.

“Thank you, Colin,” I echo on a low chuckle as he lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around my waist again. I press my lips to the delicious tip of his jaw.

It makes me frown, when I realize he’s ended the conversation, but is still looking at the phone.

I pull away a little, finding him skimming something with that super serious look on his face.

The very next moment, he’s turning the phone for me to see the email. Lorcan, in response to the shared room request. “He actually approved it?” I ask a little breathlessly.

When I look at him, I find him grinning from ear to ear. Not even trying to contain my excitement, I ball my hands into fists, grit out a squeal and then crash into his chest with my arms tightly wrapping around his shoulders.

Laughing, he squeezes me tight and starts rocking me left and right. “There’s still a problem, though,” he says, weirdly nonchalantly.

“What?” I ask as I pull away, a frown scrunching up my forehead.

He shrugs, his right hand finding its way under my shirt and starting to trace little circles on the skin of my waist. “Let’s just say I’m not too sure about the woman they’re forcing me to share the room with.”

I quirk an eyebrow at him. “Forcing, really?” I ask as I fold my arms, my lips tugging into a smile as my eyes beg to be rolled. I should’ve known. After all, it’s proving to be the man’s favorite pastime — trying to get on my nerves.

“Yeah, I mean,” he keeps going with such admirable earnestness, “she does have some redeeming qualities.”

“You sure you didn’t imagine them?” I ask with sweet innocence in my voice.

“No no.” He vigorously shakes his head, “I mean, she’s kind of a know-it-all, which is annoying, mind you, but can be useful at times.”

“Um-hum. Go on.”

“She makes a mean grilled-cheese sandwich.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“And well, she’s got this incredible ass,” he says as both his hands come to close around said ass, “the kind you just want to follow around.”

“Um-hum. But?”

Holding me tight, he leans me back, getting in my face with that smirk of his. “But I’ve just spent the last couple of months gallivanting around the world with her.” He shakes his head with a click of his tongue. “And let me tell you—”

“Yes,” I cut him off, eager to be the first one to get a stab in, “do tell me, Mister I-Take-Three-Goddamn-Hours-To-Order-A-Single-Bottle-Of—”

“Shhh.” He presses a finger to my lips. I let out a little growl, but he ignores it, a spark in his eyes. “Turns out she’s really messy. It’s like books and papers and candy wrappings everywhere you look.”

That makes me laugh. “She sounds downright awful,” I concede with a serious nod. Then I lean to whisper in his ear, “Yet I think she’ll somehow find a way to change your mind about her.” And I take a bite out of his neck, reveling in the way that makes him shudder.

He grabs me tighter, locks eyes with me and comes to whisper into my lips, “We won’t have to be apart, Anyi.” The voice makes me breathless with desire for him. “Not tonight, not ever again. Does that make you happy as much as it makes me happy?”

I close my eyes. “Not just happy, Jericho,” I tell him with a smile, “happier than I ever thought I’d be.”

I hear him groan and feel his mouth on mine, his tongue parting my lips as his hands start roaming over my body.

The very next second, we’re both freezing and opening our eyes.

There’s this faint sound of screaming drifting up to us from the hallway.

For a second, we just stay frozen like that, staring at each other with his jaw clenching and my fingers digging into his shoulders.

It’s not just the screaming that’s made my heart stop. It’s the feeling of something familiarly sickening fast approaching.

The next thing I know, Jericho is lifting me up and lowering me down, extreme focus and determination in his every movement as he gets the bag from under the desk, takes my hand and starts leading me to his nearest escape route.

My mind starts reeling. I know he only wants to protect me. That’s why he’s lugging the goddamn bag around in the first place, “just in case we ever need to disappear”.

But there’s screaming and worse, and every fiber of my being is against me just running away from it.

I can’t help stopping and making him follow suit. He doesn’t let go of my hand. He looks over his shoulder and throws me a pissed-off look that’s somehow pleading at the same time.

For a split second, we just stand there, wordlessly arguing about it.

Then, in a sickeningly fast flash, his body tenses up, he opens his mouth to say something, and the nightmares enter the gym through all the openings and cracks — both seen and unseen — to invade our bodies like the whisper of death itself.

If they could move, my eyes would round. Frozen, they just keep staring into Jericho’s.

My mind goes blank and I hear the screaming intensify just as something slams into the locked door of the gym, breaking it open.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Serra making a wobbly trek to us, her mouth sagging and her face blank.

My mind reeling, I try to look for the answers in his eyes. How is this even possible when I dismembered her before she even managed to awaken him? How do we kill her? Does he know how sorry I am for putting him through this again?

There’s so much in his eyes as well, but the next thing I know, all the screaming dies down.

For a split second longer, I keep staring into Jericho’s eyes. Then my body gets flung into the air and slammed into the wall behind me, the grip of the nightmares keeping me pinned high above the floor.

My heart plummets when my eyes fix on Jericho, trapped just like I am, only on the wall across from me, with Serra looking up at him from down below.

I’m going to kill that fucking bitch however many times I need to.

I can’t close my eyes, but I try to summon my powers, the ones I used to dismember her the first time around.

The next thing I know, all my attention is shifting onto these strange two sounds coming from the door to my right, far from where Serra is standing.

First, the casual, confident sound of footsteps making their way to me.

Then, the equally casual, confident sound of… whistling.

My heart stops.

Then there’s the familiar, saccharine male voice saying, “Apologies for making you wait this long, my darling,” just as a man I’ve never seen before comes to a stop on the floor below me.

He looks up at me, tilting his head in this calm curiosity. He’s an unusually striking vampire — tall, pale, his raven hair slicked back and his black suit casual but immaculate.

“Although,” he continues in a slightly scolding voice, “it could be said my tardiness is your own fault.” He throws me a knowing smirk. “You seem to like ‘em handsome, and I didn’t want to disappoint.”

Those strange words Serra spoke before I killed her ring in my head. “He sure is a handsome one.” She’d already managed to awaken him at that point. That was him speaking through her.

My entire body lit up with sudden dread, I watch Baldur turn at his waist, throw a glance at Jericho and then start walking over to him.

No no no. I try to thrash, I try to shift, I try to summon my powers. I try to communicate stuff to Jericho, getting this urge to yell at him when I see the look in his eyes go from panicked to calm, filling with love.

“Ah,” Baldur drawls as he comes to a stop below him, looking up at him with his head tilted and his hands in his pockets. “Still prettier, isn’t he?”

I barely have time to process it. He takes a hand out of his pocket, flicks his wrist and the next thing I know, Jericho’s limp body is falling to the floor.

I keep staring, trying to will him into getting up. Get up, just get up and run away, please.

“Well, that oughta take care of it,” I hear Baldur say.

The words are barely getting to me. All I can focus on is his body, still lying there splayed, broken, lifeless, something deep inside me violently thrashing in an effort to stop the realization from hitting me.

“And now we can finally have a chat eye to eye,” these nagging, irrelevant, hateful words drift up to me, “Freya.”

The next moment, the thrashing inside me stops and I feel something even deeper inside me break. It leaves behind the most painful silence I’ve ever felt and shatters me into a million pieces, sending me forever falling.

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Did you know there is an extra chapter that shows Jericho's POV during the Opening Ceremony?

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