Chapter 9
NINE
M orning sunlight streamed through the grand windows of the academy’s circular staff room, casting golden patterns across the polished oak table where Vail arranged her presentation materials. Her fingers traced the ancient runes carved into the table’s edge—protection symbols that had witnessed countless meetings before this one. The familiar touch steadied her nerves as she watched her staff file in.
Felicity Hawthorne swept through the door first, her academy robes adorned with an impressive array of service pins that caught the light like tiny accusations. She chose a seat directly across from the head of the table, her spine ruler-straight, lips pursed as though she’d bitten into something sour.
Other teachers followed: Professor Changly clutching a stack of research notes, the librarian Ms. Thistle juggling several floating tomes that threatened to escape their magical tethers. The room hummed with low conversations and the subtle crackle of various auras mixing in close proximity.
“Good morning, everyone.” Vail’s voice carried clearly across the room as the last few stragglers found their seats. She stood, drawing herself to her full height, and summoned her prepared agenda to hover beside her. “Thank you all for being here bright and early. I know change can be challenging, but I believe the academy is ready for some careful evolution.”
A murmur of interest rippled through the assembled staff. Behind wire-rimmed glasses, Ms. Thistle’s eyes squinted with curiosity. Even Felicity’s perfectly composed expression couldn’t quite mask her attention.
“First, let’s address some housekeeping matters—“ Vail began, but a commotion from the adjacent staff lounge interrupted her carefully planned opening.
A high-pitched whistle pierced the air, followed by the distinctive aroma of over-brewed coffee. Before anyone could react, the lounge door burst open, releasing a caffeinated tempest. Coffee cups, saucers, and one very alarmed sugar bowl whirled through the air in a rapidly expanding tornado of breakfast beverages.
“Oh dear, not again,” Ms. Thistle sighed, ducking as a creamer sailed past her head. “That new brewing charm?—“
“I’ve got it.” Vail raised both hands, her fire magic responding instantly. Golden energy flowed from her fingers, forming a containment bubble around the coffee tornado. With a practiced twist of her wrist, she guided the whirling liquid back into its proper vessels. The sugar bowl landed with an indignant clink.
“Impressive control,” Professor Changly commented, retrieving her now-safely-grounded mug.
“Really?” Felicity’s voice could have frozen the recently rescued coffee. “In my twenty years here, we’ve never had such... theatrical disruptions during staff meetings.”
“Sometimes a little chaos leads to innovation.” Vail smiled, refusing to let Felicity dampen her enthusiasm. “Speaking of which, let’s discuss the curriculum changes I’m proposing.”
She waved her hand, and her color-coded charts shimmered to life in the air above the table. “The academy has always excelled at teaching traditional witch magic. Now it’s time to broaden our scope.” The charts rearranged themselves, showing how bear-shifter aura studies could enhance protection spells, and how tigress stealth practices might revolutionize illusion magic.
“This is exactly what we need,” Professor Changly leaned forward eagerly. “My research already suggests that combining magical traditions could unlock unprecedented potential.”
“Or unprecedented disasters,” Felicity interjected, each word sharp as icicles. “The logistics alone—scheduling, training staff for cross-species instruction, not to mention the inherent risks of mixing magical disciplines that were never meant to?—“
“All valid concerns,” Vail cut in smoothly, remembering her aunts’ advice. “Which is why we’ll implement these changes gradually with careful monitoring and adjustment. I’d love your input on the process, Professor Hawthorne. Your years here are invaluable.”
Felicity’s lips pressed into such a thin line they nearly disappeared, but she nodded stiffly. Around the table, other teachers began offering suggestions and volunteering for pilot programs. The energy in the room shifted from uncertainty to cautious excitement.
As the meeting concluded, staff members crowded around Vail with questions. She caught glimpses of Clover and Sabine through the throng, their encouraging smiles bolstering her confidence. Finally, as the room cleared, she gathered her materials and headed for her next task: the library reorganization.
The academy library sprawled across three floors, its towering shelves disappearing into shadows despite the enchanted chandeliers floating overhead. Vail inhaled deeply, savoring the familiar scent of old books and magical residue. Here, among centuries of accumulated knowledge, she felt the most at home.
“Quite the morning meeting,” Ms. Thistle commented, falling into step beside her. “Though if you’re planning to reorganize my library, I hope you’ll be as deft with the books as you were with that coffee cyclone.”
“No tornados of any kind, magical or caffeinated. Promise.” Vail pulled out her enchanted checklist, which expanded into a detailed floor plan. “I want to create new sections highlighting witch-shifter cooperation throughout history. Make these resources more accessible to everyone.”
“About time,” Ms. Thistle agreed. “Those old alliance records have gathered dust for too long. Mind the ladder, though—it’s got opinions about who uses it.”
The enchanted ladder in question creaked as Vail approached, its rungs shuffling like a deck of cards before settling. She stepped carefully onto the bottom rung, and it lifted her smoothly toward the highest shelves.
“The Fire and Fur Compendium,” she murmured, spotting the spine of a particularly rare volume. “Perfect for the new hybrid magic section.” She stretched out her hand, fingertips nearly brushing the ancient leather binding.
The library door opened, and a deep voice scattered her concentration like leaves in an autumn wind. “Special delivery for the new headmistress.”
The unexpected intrusion startled her, and Vail glanced down from her perch—only to have her breath catch in her throat. A man stood in the doorway, his powerful frame making even the vast library feel somehow smaller. Dark eyes met hers, and her fire magic surged without warning, sending tingles racing across her skin. The ladder shuddered beneath her feet in response to her magical fluctuation.
He carried what appeared to be a beautifully crafted wooden desk organizer, its surface carved with intricate magical symbols that pulsed with a subtle glow. Everything about him radiated quiet strength, from his broad shoulders to the graceful way he moved despite his imposing size. When their eyes met again, something electric crackled in the air between them.
“I’m sorry,” Vail managed, trying to ignore how her magic kept reaching toward him like a moth to flame. “You are...”
“Kaine Urso.” His voice held a hint of amusement as if he’d noticed her magical reaction to him. “Romi commissioned this piece for your office.”
Kaine Urso. The name clicked into place—Romi had mentioned him yesterday. Bear-shifter. Master craftsman. Alpha of the Urso Sleuth. None of those facts had prepared her for the reality of his presence, or the way her magic seemed determined to reach out and tangle with his.
The ladder, apparently sharing her flustered state, chose that moment to give a violent wobble. Vail’s foot slipped, and suddenly she was falling, her startled gasp echoing off the bookshelf. Time seemed to slow, her fire magic flaring in instinctive protection?—
But Kaine moved with supernatural speed, closing the distance in a heartbeat. His strong arms caught her securely, and where their skin touched, golden sparks danced in the air. Her fire magic synced with his bear-shifter energy in a spectacular display that lit up the shadowy alcove. The scent of pine and mountain air enveloped her, along with something uniquely his that made her magic sing.
“Careful,” he murmured, his voice rumbling through his chest where she pressed against him. Heat bloomed everywhere, and Vail’s magic surged again, responding to him in ways she’d never experienced. “Though I have to admit, this is quite an introduction.”
His eyes, this close, held flecks of amber that seemed to glow with inner fire. Vail found herself staring, captivated by the way his energy called to hers like two pieces of a spell finally clicking into place.