Page 23 of Volatile King (The Kings of Wayward Academy #6)

His eyebrow raised. “And nothing but the truth?”

“Huh?”

He waved his hand at me. “Never mind. What do you want to know, Nash? What are you dying to understand?”

“You say the Curators aren’t supposed to help me—they stay neutral. So, tell me why you’re helping me? Why? Why me?”

His expression didn’t change, but his voice did. Just slightly.

“You remind me of someone.”

“Someone you failed,” I said bitterly.

Dean Henry turned his head and looked at me, and for once, there was no mask. Just quiet, grim honesty.

“Yes.”

The silence stretched between us like a live wire, daring me to rip off the scab that was just laid bare, but I couldn’t do it. As angry as I was at Henry, there was truth in what he’d said.

“But the help is not given because I feel guilty, Nash. The help is offered because there is a belief in what you can be if you stop letting your pain decide who you are. There is greatness in you. Choose to use it wisely.”

I laughed, sharp and ugly. “You sound like a fucking Star Wars movie. Do you really think I care about my potential?”

“I think you care about Ren. I think you see ghosts from your past when you look at her. I think you didn’t want to fall in love with her, but you did, and now you’re scared. That fear will be your undoing if you let it control you.”

My body went still.

He turned toward me, lowering his voice. “You care enough to tear yourself apart for her. You hate yourself and believe you are unworthy of her love despite what you say to others.”

I flinched away from Dean Henry. My chest heaved as I stood up to leave. He’d cut me with precision, and each wound went deeper than the last.

“Nash, you’re not doing Ren any favors by bleeding in the dark,” he continued.

“You think suffering makes you strong, but all it makes you is alone. Do you know what it is that you admire about Mr. Genovese? It’s not his money.

That is the easy answer. It is because he has suffered great loss, more pain than most, and yet he still stands with grace like a king, like a lion.

Learn to be a lion, Nash. Not the cowardly mouse you are right now. ”

That was it. The last fucking straw. I turned around and stomped back in his direction. He faced me, still unfazed by my anger or the fact that I was planning to pummel him into the tile. As soon as he was close enough, my fist flew. He moved as easily as the water…smooth, and fast.

The pool tile scraped my cheek when I hit the ground, and his knee dug into my spine. My arm was twisted behind me, and just like that, I was helpless.

“That was a stupid move. You’re a much better fighter than that, Nash, and with each word and action you’re simply proving my point for me,” he said calmly, like this was just another lesson.

When he tightened his hold, I stopped struggling. It felt like he was going to pop my shoulder out of its socket.

“I hate you,” I snarled.

“I’m not your enemy, Nash. That is the alcohol talking, but if you need someone to blame, then I’ll take the hit,” he said. “If you don’t rein yourself in, you’ll make enemies of everyone who still gives a damn about you.”

“You think you know me, but you don’t.”

“I know more than you want to admit. There is a difference,” Dean Henry said, releasing me.

I rolled onto my back, heart pounding like a drum in my chest and head. He kneeled beside me, looking relaxed while rage filled my chest.

“I’m not going to punish you,” he said. “Not for this. Not tonight.”

I blinked. “Why?”

“Because grief makes people reckless. Because pain has always made you dangerous. You have come a long way, but you still need to work on how you deal with your emotions.”

Dean Henry paused, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

“And because some lessons can’t be taught in blood…but in mercy. Get your head on straight, Nash, or you’ll lose Ren. And it will be because you lit a match and watched her burn.”

He stood and turned to leave, but I called out to him.

“Dean Henry?”

The most formidable man at Wayward paused and looked over his shoulder at me as I pushed myself into a sitting position.

“Did you know,” I asked.

“Know what?”

“What my father planned for Mya. I have no right to ask, but I need to know.” I tapped my head. “For my peace of mind.”

Dean Henry looked away and then down before he found my gaze once more. But I could already see the answer…he knew.

“The Curators were made aware of Lawrence’s intention, but the warning came in far too late for them to mobilize and find another solution.

That is the truth. I’m very sorry, Nash, truly.

But reliving the past…it’s not the way to move forward.

It is time for you to step into the future, even if that future is difficult. ”

He pointed to a chair by the opened back door.

“Once you get up off the floor and decide to fight for what you have, instead of drowning in what you’ve lost, there is a gift for you over there. You will find it…useful.”

“A gift,” I asked, staring at the brown envelope. “Why?”

“It’s from someone who still believes that rules are made to bend, even if they cannot be broken.” Dean Henry left the comment hanging between us before he turned and walked away. “Be careful where you point your rage, Nash.”

It sounded like a threat, but with no clear answer as to who he meant. I had a feeling he was talking about the Curators, but I’d learned to expect the unexpected when dealing with Dean Henry.

I waited until he was gone before slowly getting to my feet. God, my shoulder hurt. The dean was stronger than he looked.

The brown envelope seemed safe enough when I got close to inspect it. I picked it up and shook it to be sure. If it was going to explode, it probably would’ve already. I tore open the top, looked inside, and pulled out a passport.

Not just any passport…my father’s passport.

Underneath was a single-page stamped document.

REVOKED.

I stared at it with my heart hammering, caught between disbelief and something far darker.

“Oh…he’s going to be pissed,” I muttered, and then smiled like the cat that just caught the canary. “Check, Dad…check.”