Page 9

Alina

“ALL RIGHT, PAIR UP AND stand up. About three feet apart,” Professor Stone instructs, waving his arm at us from where he stands at the front of the classroom. Thin gray light slips through the big windows, and candles flicker in sconces, sending shadows dancing across our desks.

I get to my feet and tuck in my chair, then turn to face my partner.

Lyra’s crimson eyes are sharp and playful as she pushes her chair in and turns to look at me. She’s wearing citrine earrings, which sway with every movement of her head.

“Now, we’re going to practice an exercise that’s all about energy flow, synchronization, and, of course, air—our element of breath, communication, and movement,” Professor Stone says. “Take a moment to ground yourselves. Close your eyes if you need to. Feel your feet firmly planted on the floor. Imagine roots reaching deep into the earth, anchoring you, while your crown extends toward the sky, reaching up to connect with the limitless energy all around us.”

Lyra’s lips quirk up on one side, but she closes her eyes, and I do the same, taking a breath to ground myself. I quickly tap into my senses, focusing on what I can hear—papers rustling, students breathing, the tap of a boot against the stone floor—what I can smell—ink from our inkwells, the delicate scent of smoke from the candles burning in sconces along the walls, and something delectable floating up from the dining hall on the main floor—and what I can feel—my toes in my lightweight boots, my long robe tickling my stockinged calves, and something crawling up my—

I squint one eye open to see a rat clinging to my leg, trying to climb my stockings like a ladder. Without meaning to, I scream, making all the students around me jump and flinch.

“Miss Ravenscroft!” Professor Stone snaps, grasping his chest. “What in the name of—”

Before our professor can see what’s happening, Lyra quickly pries Juniper off my leg and tucks her into a pocket on the inside of her robe. I narrow my eyes at her, but all she does is flash me a quick smirk before flicking her gaze to our professor.

“Sorry, Professor,” she says, tipping her head and giving him an innocent smile. “It was just a spider.”

Professor Stone comes to stand beside us, his brown eyes sharp, but before he can say another word, the classroom door swings open with such sudden violence that I start and whirl around, my heart leaping into my throat .

And it’s Raelan standing there, his dark eyes looking murderous as they quickly find and home in on me. They burn with such intensity that I draw a small breath. Everyone else in the room turns to look at me as well.

It’s been two weeks with Raelan following me around, but unlike my roommates, I still barely know him. It certainly doesn’t help that he barely speaks to me. Or that on the rare occasions we do talk, it’s usually just to argue.

I wrote Grandfather a letter after the argument with Raelan in the astronomy tower, but Grandfather brushed it off, choosing instead to ask about my classes and whether they’re still serving apple potpies for dessert.

Yes, they are. Yuki loves them. But then again, Yuki has an incurable sweet tooth.

Grandfather scarcely even entertained my request for a new guard, so I suppose I’m stuck with Raelan. For now.

“All is well, Sir Ashvale,” our professor says, letting loose a tired sigh. I think having one of the king’s knights lurking in the halls puts the faculty on edge.

But Raelan doesn’t even look at him. His stare holds me captive, sending warmth creeping across my face. Or maybe that’s all the pointed stares from my classmates.

I give Raelan a curt nod, and only then does he finally step slowly back and close the door with a soft thump.

“Our very own knight,” Professor Stone says without looking at me. He reaches up to adjust the bow tie around his neck, then returns to the front of the classroom. “How’d we get so very lucky?”

The other students laugh, and I bristle beneath my robes.

Raelan seems incapable of not embarrassing me. I’ve yet to make any friends apart from my roommates, and the bitter part of me wants to blame it on him. Most of the students seem afraid of him—and after the show he put on in the astronomy tower, I understand why.

“Now,” our professor continues, returning to the lesson, “begin to focus on your breath. Inhale deeply and exhale fully. Let your breath become your anchor. Notice the air as it moves in and out of your lungs. Feel how it travels through your body.”

As the other students begin their breathing exercise, I whisper to Lyra, “Why is Juniper even here ? You know we’re not supposed to bring our companions into class.”

Our companions can live in the castle with us, but having classrooms packed with students and animals would make things a touch crowded.

“She doesn’t like being alone.” Lyra shrugs, then pretends to be doing the exercise when Professor Stone looks our way. When he moves to the other side of the room, she continues, “I’m surprised you don’t bring Yuki with you.”

I try not to snort. “He’s a white fox—not exactly inconspicuous. And he doesn’t fit in my pocket.” I arch a brow at her.

“Yeah, but you’re the princess. Wouldn’t they have to make an exception?”

“No exceptions,” I say, tone clipped. “I don’t want to be the princess here. Just another student.”

“Are you sure?” Lyra whispers. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind having a broody bodyguard standing outside the door. I’d take him off your hands if I could. ”

My cheeks flare with heat, and I choose not to respond, focusing on my breath as it travels into and out of my body.

“Good,” Professor Stone continues. “Now we’re going to add a bit more movement to the practice. Stay grounded as you breathe and push energy toward your partner. Control your air. This is all about control. When you exhale and push, feel your energy moving your partner back, even if just a little. Let them step or lean slightly as they respond. Keep this flow moving.”

Lyra starts by pushing a gentle wind toward me. It sends my hair and robes fluttering, and the air is warm—perhaps from her fire magic. We’re both elemental witches, which might be why we connected so quickly and formed such a sudden friendship.

“So, what’s the deal with you and Raelan anyway?” Lyra asks. With all the students pushing air around the room, making papers rustle and robes snap, it’s easier to speak without being overheard.

“There’s no deal,” I say, breathing out slowly and focusing on sending a gentle breeze toward Lyra. It brushes her hair back from her face and makes her take a step to steady herself. The citrine crystals dangling from her earlobes sway.

“Good, Miss Ravenscroft,” Professor Stone says from across the room.

I look over and give him a smile.

“No deal? Really?” Lyra arches a crimson brow at me. She doesn’t look convinced. “Are you sure?”

“I’m positive. He’s my guard. A nuisance. That’s it.”

She pushes a gust back at me, and now I have to steady myself. All around the room, students are adjusting their stances, bracing against their partners’ air magic.

“In that case,” Lyra says, her lips curling up on one side, “would you mind if I try him for myself? I mean, have you seen him?” She sighs dreamily. “And those hands . I love a man with big hands.”

Suddenly, I’m picturing Raelan’s hands on Lyra’s waist, her lips against his, their bodies moving against each other in her bed in our loft.

Without intending to, I send such a powerful gust of wind toward her that she goes stumbling back and has to catch herself on the neighboring desk, spilling an inkwell in the process and startling the students standing there. From Lyra’s robe pocket, Juniper lets out a squeak. Lyra’s eyes widen in surprise.

“I-I’m so sorry,” I say, quickly taking her by the hand and helping her up, then flicking an apologetic look toward the student whose inkwell was spilled. “I didn’t mean to—” When I look up to meet Lyra’s eyes, she’s no longer regarding me with surprise, but with something notably more concerning. Like suspicion .

But I don’t even know why I had such a strong reaction to the idea of her getting closer to Raelan. He might be my bodyguard, but that’s it. We’re not even friends. We barely know each other. I have no claim on him.

And I don’t want a claim on him. I want him to go back to the castle and leave me be.

“And no, I wouldn’t mind,” I say quickly, just before Professor Stone sweeps over to instruct me on the merits of balance and the importance of controlling my magic .

“The purpose of this lesson is not power ,” he says to the class. “It’s control. The elemental magics are incredibly potent and can be dangerous when wielded without caution. Now, continue.” His brown eyes find me. “Carefully this time, Miss Ravenscroft.”

I try to listen to him, try to focus during the rest of class, but all I can think about is Raelan standing outside the classroom, the concentrated wrinkle that always forms between his eyebrows when he’s watching me from a distance, the sharp set of his jaw.

And I try very hard not to notice the tightening in my chest when I imagine him with any other woman.

Because Raelan Ashvale isn’t mine.

And I’m certainly not his.