Chapter 18 Elodie
EIGHTEEN
ELODIE
Yesterday did not go as I had hoped. Committing to the library only got me so far. My first glance over the available books came up empty, and my progress on learning more about myself drags into another day.
The day wasn’t a complete write-off, though.
I was comforted with a lukewarm hazelnut chocolate to make me feel better, along with the lingering tendrils of sex.
I didn’t question how Rion knew where I was; I didn’t have the balls to ask after he made me shatter into a million pieces like that.
However, the chances are high that he followed me.
Ass.
I can’t deny it was worth it, though. Yet as much as my body loves his presence, my mind, my heart, my soul…
they don’t know how to act. I don’t know what I’m doing with him, or Kael, for that matter.
Damn, even Thorne has gotten under my skin in a way no one else can.
The three of them are consuming me and my body bends to their will at any given chance.
Am I sad about it? No.
Am I developing any kind of feelings? Absolutely not.
So, does it even matter if I let myself indulge in orgasms? I don’t think so.
Instead of allowing my thoughts to remain tangled up in the three of them, I need to redirect that focus and attention onto myself if I have any hope of figuring out how to ascend and get the hell out of here.
Taking a deep breath, I lean back in my seat, transitioning from my thoughts to the present as my gaze fixes on the front of the lecture hall.
Professor Grimm isn’t here yet, but when he arrives, I know I have the best chance of starting my day with high voltage focus.
I woke up today with the burning deep inside of me still, and he seems the most likely to teach me something, like the emberlock.
As the rest of the institutes continue to filter into the room, my thoughts drift back to the day I learned what an emberlock is and what it is capable of. My eyes instinctively darts across to the opposite end of the room, where a flash of red curls takes over my vision.
My gaze narrows as Willow turns to me with a snarl on her lips. Instead of turning away, I squint more as I consider the visual I would have been blessed with if the flames had met their target that day.
When she bares her teeth, her eyes start to shift in color, the flecks of gold becoming more prominent. I roll my own eyes and turn away, content in ignoring her and giving her the attention she so clearly craves.
Lacing my fingers together on the table in front of me, I let my mind wander once again, this time recalling breakfast in the dining hall. The tables were laid out the same as yesterday, but this time, our table of six only held Ocean and me; the guys were nowhere to be seen.
Not that I care. It’s none of my business what they do with their time and I want to keep it that way.
As if sensing my thoughts, the energy in the room shifts and my gaze snaps to the doorway.
It almost feels like I conjured them from my thoughts as they saunter through the aisles, their sights set on section thirteen.
Thorne walks a step in front of Kael and Rion, his jaw tight as he keeps his gaze locked dead ahead, avoiding eye contact with everyone.
It’s as though he doesn’t realize how much swagger he naturally has, earning the attention of everyone in the room—some with lust, some with fear, and others with a mixture of both.
A flash of pale, blond hair garners my attention and my gaze snaps to the vampire as he rakes his fingers through his hair.
He definitely knows the attention he earns just from breathing, but instead of ignoring it like his shadow fae friend, he bears a snarl on his lips, anger vibrating from him, making sure no one dares to approach.
The wolf, completing the trio, however, basks in every pair of eyes that turn his way, but the moment they lock with mine, he doesn’t waver.
His tongue sweeps across his bottom lip and a shiver runs down my spine, reminding me of yesterday in the library as he winks, fully aware of what he’s doing to me.
Ass.
As the three of them take the stairs beside our section, Thorne and Kael go a few extra steps before turning down the row behind me, while Rion saunters toward me, just like how we sat the last time we were in here.
My breath hitches at his proximity, and I’m certain Ocean snickers from my left, but I can’t look away to confirm or not. Instead, I blink at the wolf beside me, enraptured by everything about him as he gets comfortable in his seat.
“Petal,” he rasps, but I can’t find a response as my throat dries, a fact which seems to amuse him as he brings his hand to my desk, lifting his palm upward to reveal an earbud.
I stare at it for a moment, considering whether I should take it or not since I have my own now, but I can’t stop myself from accepting the invitation into his little world.
“Thank you,” I breathe, bringing it to my ear to hear one of my favorite country songs playing.
Trying to keep still is harder than I anticipated. His unwavering attention, combined with the desire to bop my head, is real, but just as I consider nodding to the beat, Professor Grimm appears at the front of the classroom.
Rion mutes the music, but I take the ear bud out to be sure, as the man before us beams with excitement.
“Good morning, students. How did everyone like the introduction to this year’s Institute Games?
” he asks, cocking a brow as he peruses the room.
A smattering of grumbles echoes around the space, everyone in agreement over how it didn’t need to be the middle of the night, and we didn’t need to be woken as if we were about to be killed.
He shakes his head in amusement when everyone quiets back down.
“If anything, it should be an excellent indication of what is to come,” he adds, and I’m not the only one with trepidation, making my jaw fall slack as surprise widens my eyes.
“Are you saying the rebellions are likely to be involved in the games?” someone asks from section two, and Professor Grimm waves them off dismissively.
“Of course not, but it might be as brutal,” his eyebrows wag with that tidbit of information as a low hiss ricochets around the room and more than a few people inhale sharply through clenched teeth; me being one of them.
If Professor Grimm notices our discomfort, he doesn’t acknowledge it.
Instead, he plants his hands on his hips as he smiles widely at everyone.
“Who can tell me when the last rebellion attack was?”
I follow his gaze around the room, unaware of the answer, when he aims his finger at section one, waiting for someone to speak.
“Two months ago,” the girl grumbles, and Grimm nods.
“That’s right. How many deaths did we accrue?” he pushes, and the girl clears her throat.
“Twelve.”
Shock rocks me to my core. All I can do is gape at the professor as I let that truth settle in.
“Is he serious?” I finally rasp, glancing at Rion out of the corner of my eye, and he grimaces as he nods. I slump back in my seat in disbelief.
“This is the fiftieth anniversary of The Institute Games. I feel it may bring the same level of carnage,” he explains, referring to the rebellion attacks, and I gulp, fear clinging to my limbs like it has a permanent home in me now.
“Have no fear, it is my job to aid you as best as I can, but only for this lesson, as come Friday evening, when the introduction into the games finally comes, I will be assigned to mentor one institute, and one institute only, just as twelve other professors will be assigned their groups too.” He lets his words hang in the air for a moment before he clears his throat. “Any questions?”
“Overall, what do the games entail?” Tiran asks, the uncertainty in his eyes catching me by surprise, but Professor Grimm welcomes the question.
“On Friday, when the first games are announced, each institute will be assigned a mentor and given their team’s colors to represent. The first game will proceed straight after that. What it will entail, I do not know, but thirteen groups shall enter, and only ten may venture on to the next level.”
“They axe three the first time around?” a guy from institute eleven blurts, and Grimm nods, the pride in his eyes unwavering as he peers over the sea of students.
“Always. As each game unfolds, fewer and fewer will advance to the next round until only two institutions remain. One will be crowned the victor, while the other falls at the final hurdle.”
I rub my lips together nervously when silence descends over the room again. Professor Grimm raises his eyebrows, openly waiting for more questions, and before I can doubt myself, I speak. “What have these games involved previously?”
He points a finger at me, his smile spreading wider as though he was waiting precisely for that question. “That’s not for me to say, but maybe for you to research,” he answers cryptically, and I frown.
“Where?” Ocean asks, backing my thoughts as Grimm taps at his temple.
“In here.”
Whispers dance in the air as Rion clears his throat. “Are we supposed to take it or something?”
Grimm all but leaps into the air with glee. “Yes.”
“But only vampires can dive deep into your mind,” Willow hollers from across the room, and Grimm cocks a brow at her.
“And shadow fae,” he adds, as every set of eyes, including mine, turns to the man sitting behind me.
He remains unfazed, his brown hair cutting across his eyes, partially hiding him from view.
I swipe my tongue over my bottom lip as I feast on him, but I barely get a few seconds to secretly admire him before Willow’s shrill voice cuts through the air again.
“And if you’re not one of them?” she asks, folding her arms over her chest with frustration as Grimm stuffs his hand into his blazer pocket.
“You can use this,” he replies, revealing a gold piece of ribbon with a small clouded orb of glass swinging at the end of it.
“Spit it out then, Professor,” Willow snaps with irritation.
Grimm doesn’t miss a beat, lifting the sphere to his lips.
His mouth moves, but I have no idea what he says.
A moment later, Willow stands, her arms dropping to her sides as she heads for the stairs at her left.
She hurries down them and out of the room without a backward glance, leaving all of her belongings at her seat as everyone blinks between the vacant space and Grimm.
“This is The Veilstone. It gives you the ability to delve into someone’s mind, or encourage them to do as you wish.
” He points to the door, reconfirming the fact that Willow is no longer here, and I quickly connect the dots to realize that whatever he whispered to the orb played a role in her hightailing it out of the room.
Holy crap.
“Now that I have your attention and forced respect, I offer you this: solve the riddle, and you shall receive The Veilstone as your prize, thus, earning a view of past game events up here.” He taps his temple again for good measure.
“I have no mouth, yet I speak. I have no ears, yet I listen. I am born when you call, and I vanish when ignored. What am I?”
My heart races as I replay his words in my mind, each time, my pulse quickening as I desperately seek the answer.
“A ghost,” Tiran bellows, delight brightening his eyes as disappointment floods my veins, but it’s short-lived as Professor Grimm shakes his head.
“That fits the speaking and listening part, along with the ability to vanish, but it’s not correct because it is not born when you call,” he explains, casting his gaze across the room again as everyone quickly tries to think.
“A shadow,” Ocean calls out, tightening my chest with hope for her, but the slight shake of Grimm’s head disregards her answer immediately.
“It vanishes when ignored, but does not speak,” he clarifies, dangling The Veilstone higher, forcing us to pay attention to our prize.
Squeezing my eyelids shut, I take a deep breath as I let his words replay through my mind, only this time, I take it slower, trying not to rush myself.
It speaks with no mouth, listens with no ears, is born when called, and vanishes when ignored.
Wait. Is it… I don’t know. I won’t if I don’t find out…
My gaze snaps open as my lips part. “An echo.”
Professor Grimm settles his eyes on mine, his face unreadable as my two little words hang in the air for a moment before a grin spreads across his face.
“Well done, Miss Blackwood,” he declares, and Ocean squeals from beside me, wrapping her fingers around my arm as she pinches my skin despite my blazer protecting me.
Rion’s hand lands on my thigh as Grimm approaches my table, coming to a stop on the other side of it as he hangs The Veilstone between us.
“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with it,” I admit as I take hold of the golden ribbon, and Grimm hums in understanding.
“All you have to do is whisper my name and what you wish to see,” he offers, nodding at the orb dangling from my grasp.
I clear my throat as I bring The Veilstone to my lips, just as I watched him do earlier, keeping my voice low as I speak, all while my heart thunders in my chest. “Professor Grimm, show me The Institute Games.”
My eyelids slam shut a moment later as visions flash in the darkness, one image leading into another, and another, each one taking my breath as my heart clenches so tight I’m sure it’s going to stop working altogether.
Carnage is what he called it, and it’s the only word to use.
Blood, gore, and death bleed into my mind, each scene getting redder and darker, until it all suddenly falls away to reveal a row of books.
As quickly as it appears, it evaporates, leaving the final image in my head.
A cup. Not just any cup, but a trophy with one vital word etched into the plaque on the front.
Ascension.