Page 22

The past few weeks have been their own special brand of hell. The whispers and snide comments haven’t changed, but at least there hasn’t been any more talk of raping me. I’m still considered a mistress though, a homewrecker for ruining Thaddeus’ relationship with Miss Izzicle.

On a positive note, I can finally use my magic in my dorm without fear of blowing the academy to bits. Not that it happened when I blew after the gala, but I suspect that was a tiny occurrence versus actually going nuclear.

Thaddeus, the kind professor that he is, set it up to where there are wards around my room. The very same wards that keep the outside world safe in the containment rooms. Not that I knew he was the one that placed them to begin with. Mind blown. Literally.

So, every night for the past two weeks and on weekends, I’ve been testing out my runes and comparing them to the ones in the book Cassian gave me. Reluctantly, I’ve been writing the list, keeping a few of them to myself. Especially the ones he can’t see. I don’t foresee the councilman asking me to strip naked to make sure I’ve noted every one, but hey, stranger things have happened.

Aero, my faithful Pegasus companion, is still his same size. No matter how many times I will him to a smaller form, it doesn’t happen. Maybe my intention just isn’t there or isn’t strong enough. Either way, he’s still the talk of the academy, right along with me.

Speaking of Aero, he shakes out his white mane and ruffles his wings as he clops down the hallway beside me on the way to Combat class. We’ve just left the dining hall, where breakfast was a somber affair. Marion still refuses to talk to me, but that doesn’t stop me from sitting at the table with her every day, hoping, one day, she’ll finally forgive me.

I haven’t missed the inquisition in her eyes every day, though. I know she’s dying to ask questions about Aero, but she hasn’t. She was there when he emerged, so she has some idea of what happened, just not what he is or how he came to be.

And I want to tell her. Gods, do I. But, for right now, given the state of our friendship, what Aero is will remain between me and my two mates.

I haven’t even brought myself to tell my bodyguards, either. They’ve been with me for a few weeks now, but I still don’t really trust them with more than my safety. Not with a secret of this magnitude.

They’ve tried, though. Every day after classes, they’ve asked me to hang out with them, or if they can help me with my magic. And I’ve turned them down. Every. Single. Time.

I’m not even sure why, either. Maybe it’s because I don’t feel right getting close to other men—demons or not—when I have two mates who are devoted to me. It feels like a betrayal on my part when I consider, even for a second, saying yes to them. I’ve mentioned it to Axel and Luka, and both are more than okay with it, but I just can’t bring myself to take that extra step.

Zane and Bane, as it is, aren’t far from me and Aero, their presence almost comforting in the crowded hall as everyone dashes toward their first period. From what I heard, after they tore the academy apart looking for me when I left without a word, other students and faculty have been keeping their distance from the terror demons. They’re fear works in my favor too, thank fuck. There’s always a wide berth around me when I traverse the academy.

Boisterous voices emit from the Combat classroom, each one louder than the next. Not that I could tell anyone inside apart. They all blend together into a cacophony of annoyance and too much unspent energy.

This class is one of the two I share with Marion, Transmutation being the other. Before the gala incident, she and I would walk here together, unless she was called away by her pack of men. And I use the term her loosely. Because she never did explain to me exactly who they are. So we’ve both been keeping secrets, mine just more life-changing than hers, that I know of.

As the four of us step inside, all chatter ceases, and the hostility goes up a few notches. It’s like this in every class, but this one is by far the worst. Mainly because every single one of them—sans Marion—are waiting to get me on the mat.

And the reason why the excitement is so high today? They finally get their wish. It’s been weeks of working on technique, moves, disarms, offense, and defense. In this class, we are to put everything we’ve learned to use against an opponent. Thursday, last week, names were drawn, each pair pulled in order of their match.

It was no surprise to me that my name was pulled first, but I was left utterly flabbergasted by who I’ve been paired up against. It just so happens to be the biggest, meanest, ugliest motherfucker in class. This shifter has a bone to pick with me, and I don’t doubt I’ll leave class with a few bruised and broken bones. Along with two pissed off bodyguards, and two mates who’ll be thirsting for blood.

Bane and Zane tried fighting the draw, claiming the shifter has an unfair advantage over me in all ways. Which is true. But Professor Simmons wasn’t swayed, sticking to his persona of being a stickler for the rules.

Only, what Professor Simmons doesn’t realize is the fact that this shifter has it out for me. He’s been more vocal than others in his hatred of me. And no matter how terrifying the brothers are, it hasn’t swayed his thoughts where I’m concerned.

Plain and simple, this match is going to be a bloodbath. My precious curiomancer blood in particular.

I keep to the outskirts of the class, sticking close to the wall. Groups of students are congregated more toward the middle, though it’s easy to tell that each one is segregated by class. The shifters are in one. Witches and warlocks in another. A small group of fae are in the opposite corner, but that’s normal for them. They don’t really interact with anyone who isn’t fae.

My fuckface opponent seems to think he’s intimidating when he cracks each of knuckles one by one while keeping eye contact with me. Then, with a twist, his neck cracks, each pop audible in the silent room. The other shifters around him pat him on his back, praising him for his bullying tactics.

The growl Zane releases in response has the whole group—even the prick—stepping back. There’s a slight stench in the air, their fear wafting around the room. Giles quickly composes himself after realizing what he did, and somehow, the shifter puffs up bigger, though there’s no way in hell he’d ever reach the size of the demons at my back.

But I’m not phased in the slightest by his display. Yeah, I know today is going to hurt, but here’s the thing. I absolutely refuse to tap out until I get in some hits of my own. Even without the boost of my speed rune, I’m still smaller and faster than he is. It’ll be easy to dart in, throw a punch, and get out. While I know it won’t work each and every time, I’m still more than confident that he’ll leave with a few bruises on his own.

Professor Simmons takes that moment to waltz into the room, not fazed by the open hostility on display. It’s combat class; he’s used to students exhibiting strength tactics in order to frighten their adversaries. And today, the first day of the fights, is when the most posturing happens.

So, to him, this is normal.

The bell rings: class is officially in session. A cheer goes up through the room, the noise deafening to my ears. It’s akin to a war cry, calling upon the bloodlust simmering in everyone’s veins.

Aero’s distress echoes in my soul, and he bumps his muzzle against my belly. It’s his way of telling me to back out. To walk away from what’s going to happen. But I can’t. This is going to happen one way or another. It was only a matter of time before one of the students tried something against me, so it’s better to have it out in a controlled environment than somewhere where anything can happen.

Plus, let’s be real here. I don’t leave my dorm unaccompanied, so there’s no other chance to go against me, except for here, in this class.

“Alright, class. Today is the day we’re going to put all of our hard work into action.” Professor Simmons stands directly in the middle of the mat, his hands on his hips, making eye contact with each of us. “If you remember, a few months ago, we did this very thing. It’s an evaluation of what you learned to see if it’s time to progress you from this class so you can be moved to another you may need.”

A small smile curls the corner of his lips, almost looking like a proud papa gazing at his kids. “The best thing about it, is that when you pass, you’re one step closer to graduating the academy and having a real life outside of these walls.”

The collective cheer that rings out has a different tone to it this time. Less menace and more excitement.

“It’s going to take us two weeks to make it through each of the designated fights, but the fighters of the day will know at the end of class if they’re moving forward or staying until the next set of evaluations.”

Professor Simmons changes his stance, legs spread, arms crossed over his chest. Gone is the proud papa persona for a more ruthless one.

“You know the rules. Only the two designated fighters are allowed in the match. No one else. You will be disqualified if there’s outside help. So tell your friends to stay back and let the match progress how it’s supposed to. If your opponent taps out, the fight is over. If your opponent is unconscious, the fight is over. And the most important rule of them all, and I stress this one more than anything else. No killing.”

There’s a murmur of dismay from the other students, but none of them are brave enough to refute the professor’s words.

“Our first match of the morning is Bailey Matthews and Giles Harding. Giles, speed and strength are on your side given you’re an alpha. Bailey, after speaking with Headmaster Stonewell,” I roll my eyes at his name, “I’ve learned that you’re also able to utilize both strength and speed. So, for this, you’re permitted to use both of those abilities. Giles, no partial and no full shifts are allowed on my mat. This is a human versus human match. Remember that, or there will be an instant disqualification.”

“No problem, Professor,” the slimeball rumbles, laying it on thick. “I don’t need my wolf to put this little girl in her place.” Again, I roll my eyes, but this time, I allow the asshole to actually see it.

“And Bailey, your,” he eyes Aero, obviously not sure what the heck he is, “animal isn’t allowed to intervene either.”

Easier said than done there, Prof. But I don’t voice that out loud.

It’s been a bitch to fight with my own damn soul about this very fight. Especially after learning that if Aero’s weakened, so am I. So there’s been many long nights since the draw of names to convince my Pegasus to stay out of it. He wasn’t happy, not by a long shot.

And let me tell you this, it’s absolute hell to have your own soul rebel against you.

I give the professor a nod of acceptance, not bothering with words. I’ve been in this class long enough that he knows I’m not one to go against the rules.

Giles, on the other hand… This is going to be a shit show.

“Two minutes, fighters. Get ready.” With that, Professor Simmons leaves the middle of the mat, opting to watch from the outskirts. Not too close to get hit by a flying fist, and not far enough away to where he can’t intervene if need be.

Worry shines brightly in Bane’s dark eyes as he takes my bag from me, setting it down in the corner I’ve dubbed my own. Murder rolls off Zane’s in waves, but even I can tell he’s trying his damnedest to tamp it down.

“Listen,” I murmur to the demons, pulling my gray hoodie off and revealing the black sports bra underneath. “I need you guys to hold Aero back if he tries to jump into the fight.” I shimmy out of my matching sweatpants next, the pair of black exercise shorts molding perfectly to my frame. “He shouldn’t, but we all know just how unpredictable he is.”

Aero huffs, displeased with my evaluation of him, but deep down, my own soul knows I’m right.

I quickly adjust my ponytail into a bun on the back of my head, not wanting to give Giles anything he can grab in order to keep me rooted to the spot.

Before I know it, my two minutes are up, and Professor Simmons is calling us to the mat. I don’t miss the twin brooding looks my bodyguards are sporting, but I have to do this. I know that. They know that. Doesn’t mean they have to be happy about it, though.

The mat is firm beneath my sneakers, a slight give under each step. It’ll hurt like hell to hit the mat, but at least it’s better than concrete.

I adopt my fighter’s stance before the professor can even call ready. Giles is unpredictable, and I wouldn’t put it past him to attack before the fight even starts. Though, from the postering he’s doing, I don’t think he’s even taking this all that seriously.

Fine by me. He’s wants to fuck around, so I’ll get my licks in before he’s any the wiser.

Internally, for a quick moment, I check in with my magic, feeling the happy zip through my veins that it always does when I acknowledge it. There’s a reassuring squeeze around my heart, almost like it’s saying, we got this. I won’t let you down.

“Fighters ready?” I nod, while the idiot throws his hands in the air, pumping them a few times like he’s already the victor. “And go.”

My magic immediately takes over, rushing to the speed rune on my foot and the strength one on my inner bicep. It’s a new one Thaddeus has been having me work on during my rune practice class, with the demons as my guinea pigs.

That rune alone puts me almost on the same level strength-wise as the two of them, but my focus always seems to veer off and I lose the momentum with it. I can’t do that this time. If I do, I’m risking a world of hurt.

Before Giles even registers I’ve moved, I’m throwing my curled fist straight to his face, the crunch of his nose music to my ears. A threatening rumble emanates from his chest, but I’m already gone, his wild punch meeting nothing but thin air.

All the cheering from his merry little group of assholes cuts off at the sign of first blood. Only it’s not mine like they thought it would be. Nope. It’s the alpha douchebag’s.

Steam practically billows out of Giles’ ears, and long gone is the confident asshole who stepped onto the mat. Now a fire rages in his shit-brown eyes, the color shifting quickly between his usual and the gold of his wolf.

It’s like that hit has finally knocked some damn sense into him. His movements are precise, and there’s a look in his eyes that screams he’s finally taking this seriously. Who would have known all it would take is one damn hit.

His shifter healing kicks in, stemming the flow of blood from his nose. Pity. I kind of liked watching him bleed.

From here on out, it truly becomes a real fight. Both of us darting in and out, refusing to get too close. One advantage he has with his taller form is the longer limbs that accompany it. So while he can keep a greater distance, I’m finding myself further in his space than I particularly like.

There’s an audible crack as his foot connects with my ribs, my shriek of pain causing the class to bellow in excitement. My magic never once falters, and I let the agony coursing through my veins fuel my fight and determination to put this fucker on his ass. Even if it’s only once.

But the alpha has officially let his ego get to his head. He preens around the mat, too cocky for his own, so he misses me sliding across the mat and taking his legs right out from underneath him.

His oomph as he hits the ground is music to my ears, and I take the opportunity while he’s down to climb on top of him. My knees press into his shoulders, pinning him firmly, while raining strength-infused blows to his face.

His lackeys are calling for him to fight back, to get up and beat the shit out of me, but all his postering in the beginning has drained his energy. The most the alpha can do is attempt to cover his face to stem some of the damage.

It’s too much for me to keep going, but I don’t stop, because I know the second I do, I’m completely done for, because he won’t let this slide.

“Tap out, Giles.”

“Never,” he grits out through clenched teeth. “I’ll never bow out to a whore.”

That’s the last straw, his words sending a resurgence of magic straight to my fists. I pull my arm back, ready to deliver the blow that will render him unconscious, when there’s a yell and I’m tackled from the side. My cracked rib smarts at the hit, but it becomes background noise to the torture being inflicted on me from numerous sources.

Professor Simmons’ bellow can barely be heard over the ringing in my ears. But my brain easily registers the battle cry that sounds suspiciously like Zane. The weight holding me down to the mat disappears, and through swollen eyes, I see Bane standing over top of me, raining down his own special brand of hell on the students who broke the rules and attacked me.

Even with the brothers in the middle of the fight, the others who jumped me still fight against them, trying to get to me.

“Marion!” Zane roars. “Get her out of here!”

Marion? Oh gods. I hope she hasn’t gotten caught up in the fight. I want to tell her to back away. Run away and get as far away from this fight as she can. I’m not worth it for her to put herself in the middle. But the words escape me, sliding right back down my throat before I can voice them.

For once, something other than indifference flashes across her face. Panic gives her eyes a glossy sheen as she ducks an errant punch, sweeping me quickly into her arms and dashing out of the center of the storm.

Once again, Marion plays the role of my savior just like she did at the gala when she put herself between me and the mob. She was injured then, but it wasn’t lasting. One thing is for sure. If she continues being my friend—or goes back to being my friend—she’ll always be in danger. So maybe her distance is what’s best for both of us. I couldn’t live with myself if she dies. Because her death would solely rest in my hands.

A choked sob tries to break free at the thought, but I hold it back. She’s right here. She’s still alive, and right now isn’t the time to dwell on what ifs.

Marion makes a break for the door, Aero neighing in distress as he trots after her, but a shrill scream stops her forward momentum, and everyone seems to freeze in place. It’s so damn quiet you can hear a pin drop. Marion turns around, still slowly backing toward the exit, even as curiosity gets the better of her.

“He’s dead! You killed him!”

Her proclamation is punctuated by the door behind me and Marion opening and boots, numerous of them, thudding against the floor. They part around us, each one dressed in all black and carrying an authority that screams trouble.

The last person to arrive is Headmaster Stonewell himself. His eyes bounce around the room, taking in the carnage left behind, before they find mine right next to him. There’s a tightness around those green orbs of his, and I swear I see concern flash through them too. But I’m sure my addled brain is confusing disdain for concern.

After all, the gargoyle wasn’t concerned when I was sentenced to death, so why should it be any different now?

Time becomes a fuzzy thing as statements are taken, people are hauled out of the room, and healers make their way in to take away the dead.

Marion had put me down a while ago, leaving me in the care of my bodyguards and my Pegasus as she went to give her own recount of what happened. Then they released her, canceling the rest of her classes and sending her back to her dorm.

Jasper makes his way over to Zane and shares a few quiet words with him before exiting the classroom without a backward glance. Zane quickly relays whatever he said to Bane before crouching down in front of me.

“We’re to report to the headmaster’s office, where he wants to have a talk with us.”

“But…”

“None of this was your fault,” he cuts me off. “Remember that. Everything you did was in line with the rules, and we all heard you tell him to tap out. Let’s go.”

He helps me to my feet, Bane helping him steady me before stepping back. It’s a slow progression heading up to Jasper’s office, but the brothers are accommodating, stopping every so often to give me a breather.

Aero sticks close to my side, letting me lean on him any time there’s a weakness in my steps. As we step into the stairwell, Bane reaches for my bicep, stopping me.

“Let one of us carry you up there. There’s no way you’re going to make it.” But I’m already shaking my head, the stray wisps of my hair shifting with the movement.

“I’ll just heal myself enough to make it there. If I do too much, it’ll knock me on my ass.”

The rune on my chest heats the moment I mention healing myself, and already, I feel my legs growing stronger. The aches and pains don’t disappear, but by the time my healing cuts off, I’m more than confident that I’ll make it through this meeting.

“Thank you,” I murmur, grateful for more than they truly know.

These two demons jumped into the middle to protect me. And while it’s in their job description to do so, they did so without hesitation. What’s even more, is that they fought for me. Punishing those who hurt me. Even going as far as killing one of them.

That alone says so much about these two men. That they care for me in some capacity.

It’s that thought that has all my previous notions, hesitance, and reluctance on their stance in my life disappearing. It’s time to give them a chance. Get to know them like I should have over the past few weeks.

Only I’ll have to tell them later. Right now, Jasper and my fate awaits our arrival.

Right before we step over the threshold into Headmaster Stonewell’s office, I relinquish my bag from Zane, fish out my phone, and fire off a quick text to my mates.

Me

We have a problem. A big one.

My cell pings with an immediate reply, but my name is called, and we’re all ushered into the office before I can even see what it says.

The disapproving glare on Jasper’s face is enough to have me slipping my phone back into my bag, hoping the guys will forgive me for not being able to elaborate further.

I’m sure Luka has some semblance of an idea as to what happened given information travels fast in the halls, so I’m counting on him to relay it, sans details, to Axel.

Once we’re done here, I’ll explain it all to them.

And hope they still love me, even though, if we’re being technical, my presence killed someone today.