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“I’d rather not make enemies,” I called after her, but she was already striding toward Monty, his arms outstretched as if he’d been waiting for her all night. She melted into him effortlessly, leaving me alone to fend for myself.

I sighed and turned back to the crowd. Knox.

He stood behind Monty, hands tucked awkwardly into his trousers, the hem of his cotton blazer brushing his hips.

He looked out of place, his quiet presence stark against the lively chatter of the Day students around him.

I started toward him, softly uttering his name.

Before he could hear me, a hand grabbed my shoulder. I spun around, ready to scold. “Bridger, I swear to god—”

But it wasn’t Bridger. Hazel eyes met mine, sharp and unreadable, framed by short, dark locks. His skin was sun-kissed, his jawline strong and clean-shaven, with a single dimple pressed into his left cheek. Handsome, in a way no North Colindale man had ever been.

“Who is Bridger?” He asked, smiling with those beaming hazel eyes.

I crossed my arms, staring at the hand still on my shoulder. “A student.”

His eyes stroked me down, not shying away from my breasts. “Neval hair, and you’re hanging out with Malachi Herring. You must be quite interesting.” He passed me a darkened bottle of liquor he’d already drunk a quarter of.

I shook my head. “No thanks. I prefer to be coherent for my first classes tomorrow.”

“Docile as well.” He flashed a quick smile. “My name is Damien. Second-year, Summer.”

“Severyn.” I quickly noticed that a last name held power around here, and from how many death wishes I had upon me, I couldn’t admit more. “First-year, Winter.”

He took the bottle back, holding the rim against his lower lip. “A Winter student. Now, that would be my last guess.”

“And why is that?” I asked .

He glanced at Myla and the four other Winters walking toward the fire. A Serpent relic pinned to his shirt caught my eye. I assumed he was vying to claim the heir, as the Night female from the Rite speaking with Archer wore the same emblem.

“Because Archer chose you for his roster—it’s unheard of for students not to be placed under the house of their called realm,” Damien said.

“Winter is not a weak realm. Just because we don’t ride dragons doesn’t mean we aren’t strong,” I shot back.

Damien raised his hands defensively, his palms rough with callouses.

For a moment, I found myself counting them.

Scars marred his chest, visible through the v-shaped gap in his tunic.

“I am the last person who’d want to get stuck in a snowstorm.

I admire it, honestly. Winter is quite alluring to me.

I mean, who doesn’t love dry skin and goosebumps. ”

“I think you’re insulting me,” I said.

More scars lined his forearm, jagged cuts that lacked any discernible pattern. I wasn’t sure I wanted to ask about them.

“I prefer brutal honesty.”

I glanced at Malachi, who was sitting on Monty’s lap now. “Tell me about Malachi. Brutal honesty.”

“Shall I add demanding to that list?” He tilted his chin. “One drink equals one answer.” He shoved the glass bottle into my chest again, his lip pouting slightly.

“Fine.” I took a heavy sip—thrusting burns quenched my dried lungs. It was tangy, with hints of orange. But it was definitely booze. “Now, tell me about Malachi.”

His smile turned smug. “The king had five grandchildren, and each one died at the academy because they were the heir of Verdonia. But since Malachi is the last living grandchild. A Serpent will take the throne if Malachi dies after the king passes. There is this game the students play each year a Herring attends the academy called, ‘Who can Kill the Herring First.’ The six Serpents this year are the Continent’s youngest rulers, so the king chose them to mentor this year as the runners to claim his title. ”

He narrowed his eyes. “Archer saved Malachi tonight because she would have been killed if placed under Tydon’s mentorship. Why do you think he hasn’t taken his eyes off her?”

A beautiful blonde student was sitting on his lap, giggling, but his eyes were on Malachi. She even had his leather jacket draped over her vined shoulders.

“So, Archer loves Malachi?” I breathed. This was… deadly gossip.

Damien snorted. “No. Not like that. Archer vowed to keep Malachi safe.”

There seemed to be secrets everywhere. My mother’s mystery of her wielding death and being publicly stripped of her quell. The unknown Day blood that gurgled through my veins—our veins—Klaus’s placement in Summer. Nothing made sense.

I shifted my weight, changing the topic. “What is your quell?”

A disapproving tsk sounded from his mouth. “You don’t just ask someone their quell. Where are your manners, Severyn? I’ve told you four things. Tell me something about you.”

I pointed to Knox. “That’s my brother, Knox. My eldest brother Charles is a guard for Malvoria.” I didn’t mention Klaus. I knew once death was brought up—he’d linger. Linger in the sigh Damien would give me, followed by his words of condolence. I learned how to respond, having done it repeatedly.

Damien rolled his eyes. “That’s common knowledge. Tell me something I can’t find in the library, and don’t give me some scripted response.”

I pressed my lips together. No one had ever drawn interest in me, and thinking back on my life, I was rather dull. “I’m terrified of birds and am forced to bond with one for the rest of my life. ”

He waved a hand in the air. “Tell me a secret. We are fighting for our lives, more or less a title. I’m pretty good at listening. You might die tomorrow. We all could.”

I grabbed the bottle from his hands and took another sip. The slow ache in my body dulled as the liquor settled in my stomach. “I’m an open book. Really, I have no secrets.”

He flicked my neval streak. “I doubt that.”

My breaths shortened. “I didn’t realize a quell was private.”

“I prefer to keep my quell private until I know someone isn’t my enemy. But seeing as most of your camp either got their quell or their enigma, I’d say you are the least of my worries.”

“You can trust me.” I gave him a shy grin.

Was this considered flirting?

“If I were you, once a Winter student dies, I would see if Jenessa will take you in. Archer won’t be able to mentor you. Shadow and ice are very different.”

“What if I’m not meant to be in the North? Has that… ever happened before?”

“Then you already have more enemies than you think.”

The blood drained from my face. I listened to the cheers as a crowd surrounded Monty. His fingers danced in the air, shredding light through the star-flecked night. His serpent mark illuminated as if a string of lights were buried under his skin.

Perhaps he was gorgeous. Perhaps the male beside me, even more so. Damnit. I couldn’t get distracted.

I exhaled. “And what’s Archer’s quell? Shadows, I assume?”

“Archer controls the dark. Shadows are his eyes. Monty controls light. If he wanted to, he could blind all of us with a wave of his hand.”

I understood why Malachi wanted to keep Monty close.

I stared again at her as she gently twirled her hand, creating a flurry of wind around him. Then, his lips were on her neck. She arched back, and the air stilled .

“Wind could be powerful,” I said.

“Air is powerful,” he corrected. “Malachi must become a Serpent before she can take her grandfather’s throne. As you two are roommates, I’d be careful—she can hear through the wind. Every quell has its limits. Wind becomes air as light becomes blinding.”

“And how deadly can darkness be?”

“Archer is wounded right now. He’s hardly a threat.”

“Why is that?”

Damien glanced at the bottle in my hand. “That answer requires another drink.”

I slammed the liquor, shaking my head as the burn traveled down. “Go on.”

“His enigma is gone.”

“Gone, as in dead?”

“Missing.”

That was hardly worth the sting in my stomach. “You know a lot about the people here.” If Damien was willing to tell me all of this over a slosh of cheap booze, I knew I couldn’t trust him.

“My brother is the Serpent of Shadows. I know a lot about people. Especially ones who share my blood.”

My mind went blank as his words whirled around. “Your name is Damien Lynch?” My stomach dropped, and I took another willing sip of the swirling liquor.

“And you are Severyn Blanche.” He struck his hand out for me to shake. “Nice to meet you.”

My jaw hung as cool fingers curled around mine. “Yes.”

“Let me know if you need someone to show you around campus. Your senior mentor doesn’t seem to have your best interests at heart.” His eyes flickered to Bridger. “Good luck tomorrow. ”

“You knew—” But Damien was gone before I could finish. Scattered dust flurried in the moonlight, and my fingers tightened around the near-empty glass bottle.

And shit, I was drunk.

That night, I wrote a letter to my parents.

I told them about the griffin I bonded with on the first day, my quell, and the frost that surged through my veins.

I sealed it with a teardrop and a dab of melted wax.

I could afford to break, but my father’s wards were near shattering, and I feared his entire fortress would crumble if I told them the truth.