Page 16 of Wicked Chains (Serpentine Academy #2)

Fourteen

Rose

I stand outside Helena Wickersly's office, trying to swallow down the lump in my throat.

The door in front of me might as well be the entrance to a torture chamber, and given my first impressions of the new headmistress, that might not be entirely inaccurate.

Hank shifts in my hoodie pocket, his small body a little ball as he hunkers down.

I've tucked him away, not trusting Helena at all with small, vulnerable animals.

I take one final deep breath, straighten my back, and knock.

"Enter," comes a voice from within.

I push the door open and step into what used to be Victoria Wickersly's office.

It's been transformed. Where Victoria favored minimalist understatement, Helena appears to prefer maximalist excess.

The walls have been painted a deep crimson, and heavy black velvet drapes hang at the windows, blocking most of the natural light.

The room is illuminated instead by brass candelabras that cast shadows across the walls.

Helena Wickersly sits behind an enormous black desk, her silver-streaked red hair pulled back in an elaborate updo.

She's dressed in all black, which I can appreciate as someone who prefers the same monochromatic wardrobe, but her outfit is pure power-dressing with dramatic shoulder pads that would make an '80s businesswoman jealous.

A collar of glossy black feathers frames her face, making her look like a bird of prey.

Vulture-esque, really. Her small, beady eyes lock on me as I enter.

"Miss Smith," she says, staying seated. "How generous of you to finally arrive."

I stop a few feet from her desk, keeping my distance on purpose. "You summoned me less than fifteen minutes ago. It takes that long to walk here," I point out, then add, "Headmistress," because I'm not stupid enough to completely disrespect her to her face.

Helena's lips curl into what I think is supposed to be a smile, but it's about as warm as an icicle in a January blizzard. “Sit." She gestures to the chair in front of her desk.

I perch on the edge of the chair, like I’m ready to bolt at any minute. Hank stirs in my pocket, and I place my hand over him protectively, hoping Helena doesn't notice.

"I thought it was time we had a little chat," Helena continues, steepling her fingers. "Woman to woman. Witch to witch."

"About what?" I ask, keeping my voice even.

"About your position here at Serpentine Academy." She leans forward slightly. "My sister may have led you to believe certain things about your importance, your role. Your freedoms."

"Your sister tried to drain my magic and threatened to kill me," I say flatly. "So I'm not sure what 'freedoms' you're referring to."

Helena laughs. "Oh, I see. You think Victoria was harsh? You think she was the villain of your little story?" Her smile fades. "My sister has always been soft-hearted. Too concerned with appearances, with doing things the 'proper' way."

I barely stop myself from laughing out loud. Victoria Wickersly, soft-hearted? The woman was about to have me executed. But I bite my tongue, watching Helena carefully.

"You will find," Helena continues, "that I am not so easily manipulated. I do not share my sister's weaknesses."

Hank twitches in my pocket, and I silently will him to stay still. "I wasn't trying to manipulate anyone," I say. "I just wanted to be left alone."

Her eyes narrow. "Let me be perfectly clear, Miss Smith. Your magic belongs to the Blood Moon Coven, of which I am now a prominent member. You are here for the good of our coven, nothing more."

My stomach tenses. "How is that any different from me belonging to the Crescent Moon Coven? I never wanted any of this."

Helena's laugh is ugly and humorless. "Want? Your wants are irrelevant. Your needs, however—food, shelter… safety—those depend very much on your usefulness." She taps a staccato rhythm on her desk with one long, red-lacquered nail. "And any insubordination will be punished. Severely."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I'm informing you of your new reality," Helena replies coolly.

"The comfort of your stay at Serpentine Academy will depend entirely on your cooperation.

Cross me, and I will make your existence here a living nightmare.

" She leans forward, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"I will keep you alive, Miss Smith. The Coven requires it.

But I promise you will wish you were dead. "

The nervous twitching in my stomach turns into painful knots. Victoria was bad enough, but Helena is something else entirely. At least Victoria maintained a veneer of professionalism, of academic purpose. Helena seems to revel in her cruelty and wants to wear it like a badge of honor.

Before I can respond, the door behind me swings open without a knock. I don't need to turn to know who it is. I feel it.

"Helena," Ash's voice is low. "I thought we agreed you would inform me of any meetings with Miss Smith."

I glance over my shoulder to see Ash striding into the room like he owns it, his green eyes cold and calculating. He doesn't look at me, his gaze is fixed on Helena.

"I wasn't aware I needed your permission to speak with a student, Ash," Helena replies, her tone icy. "As headmistress?—"

"As a figurehead," Ash corrects smoothly. "Let's not pretend, Helena. We both know who's really in charge." He finally turns those emerald eyes on me. "What has our dear headmistress been telling you, Rose?"

I hesitate, caught between them, unsure whose wrath I'd rather face. "Just clarifying my position here," I say carefully.

"Is that so?" Ash moves to stand beside my chair, and Hank shifts uncomfortably in my pocket.

"I was merely explaining to Miss Smith that her continued comfort depends on her cooperation," Helena says. "That insubordination will not be tolerated."

Ash's expression darkens. "She's mine to break, not yours."

The words hang in the air, and I feel like I've been slapped.

Not because of the sentiment—I already know Ash thinks he owns me—but because of the sudden realization that washes over me.

I'm caught in a power struggle between Ash and Helena.

And as much as I hate to admit it, I might be safer under Ash's obsession than Helena's cruel ambition.

At least Ash sees me as something valuable, something worth preserving, even if it's just as a tool or a possession. Helena looks at me like I'm nothing more than a means to an end, a resource to be drained and discarded.

"I believe we had an understanding," Ash continues, his voice soft, but I pick up on the dangerous note it contains. "The Smith witch falls under my authority. The blood mark binds her to me, not you."

Helena's small eyes narrow to slits. "Need I remind you, Ash, that while you may control the Blood Moon Coven, I control this academy? And so long as Miss Smith is a student here, she is subject to my authority as headmistress."

I can sense Ash's displeasure with Helena, the way his body has gone rigid beside me. And Helena's rage at being undermined is written all over her face, in the tight line of her mouth, the grip she has on the pen she’s picked up.

I remain perfectly still, afraid that any movement might draw their attention back to me. This feels like watching two apex predators size each other up, and I have no desire to become collateral damage in their fight for dominance.

After what feels like a year, Helena's mouth grimaces. "We will discuss this later," she says to Ash, then turns her gaze on me. "Get out of my sight, Miss Smith."

I don't need to be told twice. I rise from the chair, careful to keep my movements slow and non-threatening. Ash doesn't move from his spot, but his eyes follow me as I edge toward the door.

"Rose," he says, just as my hand touches the doorknob. "We'll continue our conversation from earlier. Soon."

I slip out of the office, closing the door behind me, and lean against it for a second, taking my first full breath since I entered that room.

"You okay in there?" I whisper to Hank, who peeks his little green head out of my pocket. "That was intense."

I push off from the door and hurry down the hallway, wanting to put as much distance as possible between myself and that poisonous pair.

My thoughts tumble over each other, trying to process what just happened.

I'm caught between two powerful, dangerous people, both of whom see me as nothing more than a possession to be controlled.

But at least Ash seems to want me in one piece. Helena, I'm not so sure about.

I'm so lost in thought that I don't notice the person rounding the corner until I collide with them. Cleaning supplies clatter to the floor.

"I'm so sorry!" I bend to help gather the scattered sponges and brushes. "I wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's okay, miss," says a quiet voice. I look up to see Ollie, one of the young cleaners who works at the academy.

He's slight and unassuming, with light brown hair and kind eyes.

Unlike most of the people here, he's always been nice to me, offering a shy smile when our paths cross.

I've made a point of saying hello to him when I see him, and actually throwing my trash in the bins instead of on the floor like most of the entitled buttheads who attend this academy on daddy’s dime.

"Hey, Ollie," I say, handing him a scrub brush. "Sorry about that. I was trying to escape the headmistress's office before she decided to turn me into a frog or something." I pause. "No offense, Hank," I add to my pocket.

Ollie glances around nervously, then leans in closer. "You should stay away from her, miss," he whispers. "Headmistress Wickersly. She's not a nice person."

I can't help the laugh that escapes me. "Newsflash, Ollie. No one at Serpentine Academy is a nice person."

Ollie’s cheeks go red. "Well, you're nice to me. You say hello. You pick up after yourself."

The simple observation catches me off guard. I'm not used to being seen as nice. I clear my throat. "Yeah, well, my mom raised me right, I guess. But thanks for the warning about Wickersly. I think I figured that out when she basically threatened to make me wish I was dead."

Ollie's eyes widen. "She said that?"

"Something like that." I help him gather the last of his supplies. "But hey, between her and Ash, I'm not sure who's the bigger threat."

"Mr. Ash is not nice," Ollie agrees quietly. "But Headmistress Wickersly, she enjoys it. The hurting, I mean."

The simple statement sends a chill down my spine. "Well, that's comforting. Thanks again for the warning, Ollie. I appreciate it."

He nods, clutching his cleaning supplies to his chest. "Be careful, miss," he says, then hurries off down the hallway.

I watch him go. In this place full of monsters and manipulators, it's weird to find someone who seems genuinely concerned for my welfare, especially someone who has no magical power or status. Maybe there's one decent person at Serpentine Academy after all.

Hank croaks softly from my pocket, as if to remind me that I'm not completely alone.

"Yeah, I know," I tell him, patting my pocket gently. "You're decent too, for a frog." I take a deep breath.

As I walk away from the administrative wing, I have the feeling that I've just witnessed the opening move in a very dangerous chess game.