Chapter 2 SKYE
SKYE
The morning light filters through the curtains in shades of amber and gold, painting the room in colors that remind me of Stellan's flames. I'm awake before I mean to be, pulled from sleep by something I can't quite name. It takes me a moment to realize what's different.
My bond marks are glowing.
I lift my arm, watching them faintly pulse against my skin like a heartbeat.
The marks have been there ever since each of my mates claimed me, but this is new.
They're warm, almost hot to the touch, and all of them thrumming with more energy than was present yesterday.
Stellan's mark burns the brightest, a constant rhythm of fire that should hurt but instead feels like coming home after years away.
I press my fingers to the mark and gasp.
The connection slams into me, no longer a vague sense of presence but a full sensory experience, Stellan's essence signature somewhere nearby.
He's still asleep, his emotions a drowsy tangle of contentment and lingering anxiety. But beyond him, I feel the others, too.
I sit up slowly, careful not to wake Harlow, who's sprawled across my bed. His blue aura shifts in his sleep, responding to my movement even when unconscious. The wraith never fully rests, I've learned. Some part of him is always on guard.
A heavy sigh falls from my lips as I look around my room, realizing that everything has changed since yesterday, when Stellan fully transformed, when our six essences wove together in patterns that defied every rule Dmitri ever wrote.
We're not just claimed mates anymore. We're something else entirely.
I ease out of bed and start getting ready for the day, my movements automatic while my mind races.
It’s strange, feeling my mates like phantom limbs, extensions of myself that exist in five separate bodies.
It should be overwhelming. Instead, it feels right in a way I can't explain to anyone who hasn't experienced it. And while I read up a little about mates and connections and bonds, at least as much as I could before Harlow tucked me into bed, there’s nothing that explains the bond the six of us have.
I’m sure Mother Nature will have answers but I need a minute before I’m thrust back into her space. When I step into the hallway, I realize immediately that word has spread about my connections.
Students line the corridor, some pressed against the walls to let me pass, others clustered in groups that fall silent as I approach.
They stare openly, without even pretending to look away.
A few faces show awe, eyes wide and wondering.
Others show fear, backing up a step as I walk by but nobody speaks to me directly.
The presence of the enforcers and general fear in the hallways seems to have.
.. shifted. The bulls are still here. I see two of them stationed at the far end of the corridor, their massive forms blocking the exit to the courtyard.
But they're not prowling the aisles anymore. They're watching. Waiting.
It takes me a moment to understand why.
The meet and greet. The Council visit. In seven days, parents and officials will walk these halls for the first time in years. Dmitri wants to show them a reformed academy, a place of order and progress. He can't do that if students are being impaled in the hallways.
But the enforcers haven't left. They've probably just been given new orders. Instead of terrorizing students into submission, they're cataloging. Observing. Every whisper, every flare of uncontrolled essence, every sideways glance… it's all being noted, filed away for later.
The terror hasn't lessened. It's just gone underground.
As I pass one of the bulls, its gaze tracks me, dark eyes following my movement with unsettling intelligence. The red-black essence that clings to the enforcers seems stronger today, maybe even more focused, Dmitri's signature, woven through them like puppet strings.
We're all still being watched. The only thing that's changed is what they're watching for.
The whispers start the moment I pass each group, hissing commentary that follows me down the hall like a living thing.
"That's him, the counselor who's not really a counselor."
"Did you hear what happened last night? I heard that his entire office exploded in fire but nothing burnt."
"Who cares about that? I heard he’s bonded to five Magila! FIVE!”
"My roommate said their essences looked like one entity when they merged."
"Stellan Wilder transformed. No fire elemental has ever done that. Does anyone know what he is?"
"I heard he’s not really human. The new counselor. What? I heard Mother Nature chose him.”
Several gasps follow, someone asking how they know.
“I overheard some of the other counselors talking.”
I keep my head up and my expression neutral, even though my heart pounds against my ribs. This is what we wanted, isn't it? For the truth to come out, for people to see that Dmitri's system is broken. But being at the center of everyone's attention makes my skin crawl.
By the time I reach the dining hall, my bond marks are burning hot enough that I'm surprised they're not leaving scorch marks on my shirt.
The noise in the cafeteria drops by half when I walk through the main archway but the steady beats of their auras are still there, curious and feeling out the space.
As I weave between tables, I catch even more fragments of conversation that answer the question burning in my mind.
"—felt it all the way in the east wing. Like the whole academy shook."
"My roommate said the enforcers were running toward the counselor wing. They felt something massive."
"Tamara told Professor Hendricks this morning. I heard her in the hallway."
So that's how. Our combined essences merging last night must have sent shockwaves through the entire academy. We weren't exactly subtle. And apparently Tamara has been talking, though whether that's sabotage or strategy, I can't tell yet.
My mates are already at our usual table, but everything about the setup is different now. They're not scattered around trying to maintain the illusion of casual friendship. They're sitting close together, thighs pressed against thighs, shoulders touching, territorial and unapologetic.
Stellan sits between Jade and Rumi, his gray-blue eyes flickering with hints of orange fire every time someone stares too long.
He looks anxious, fingers tapping against his leg as Jade stays pressed against his side, one hand resting possessively on Stellan's thigh.
The Incubus' purple eyes scan the room with predatory focus, daring anyone to comment.
Rumi lounges in his chair across from them, but the tension in his shoulders is obvious.
His golden eyes track every movement in the room, the guy ready to manifest them in an instant if needed.
I manage a small smile just as Ambrose and Harlow come up behind me, their aura stronger than it was yesterday.
It feels almost like a protective embrace, even when I look over at my stepbrother to see him half awake, his eyes half-lidded. He hisses as someone walks back, the air visibly frosting over with his essence before disappearing.
Well, that’s concerning.
However, the changes in the six of us make one thing very clear.
We’re done hiding. We also don’t really have a choice.
I push forward and take a seat, Ambrose and Harlow sliding in on either side of me.
Stellan’s anxiety hits me all at once, the air supercharged with heat that’s suddenly battling Harlow’s ice.
"Morning," I say quietly, reaching for the plate someone's already prepared for me.
"Babe," Harlow murmurs, his hand finding mine under the table. "How are you feeling?" His voice is thick with sleep as he steals a piece of bacon off my plate. If this were a different moment, I might laugh, but his first thought is always me. It’s endearing, at least.
"Like everyone in this room is watching us. Tamara said that everyone knows. Like everyone. I don’t know how, but I feel like part of a spectacle.
" I’m 99% sure that no one knows about the Praestes part or that Harlow’s a wraith or that Ambrose is a djinn.
Sure, they probably suspect that my mates are more than their element, but…
"They are," Ambrose confirms, not bothering to lower his voice.
"Let them. We're not performing for their entertainment anymore.
" He seems more anxious than usual, his hand moving to his chest where his pendant used to hang, a phantom gesture, reaching for an anchor that no longer exists.
Ever since the pendant dissolved and he learned what he truly is, Ambrose has been different.
Quieter. More watchful. The Original Darkness, tethered to me now instead of an object.
Sometimes I catch his shadows moving independently, reaching toward me even when Ambrose himself is looking elsewhere.
Like the void recognizes its new home. And lately, I've noticed him muttering in his sleep, names I don't recognize, fragments of conversations in languages that sound ancient.
When I asked him about it, he said memories were surfacing, things he'd buried so deep he'd forgotten they existed.
His mother's voice. Old debts. Connections he'd severed when Dmitri trapped him here.
"It's like the pendant was suppressing more than just the darkness," he told me, his green eyes distant. "Now that it's gone, everything's coming back."
I squeeze Harlow's hand and pick up my fork, determined to act normal even though normal doesn't exist for us anymore. The food tastes like ash in my mouth, my stomach too tight with nerves to properly digest anything. But I force myself to eat because my mates need to see me taking care of myself.
We're halfway through breakfast when Tamara passes our table.
She doesn't stop or slow down, but in one smooth motion, she slips a folded piece of paper into my hand as she walks by. Her fingers are ice cold, her essence signature agitated in ways I've never felt from her before.
I don't look at the note immediately. Drawing attention to it would be stupid, and Tamara wouldn't have been so secretive about the delivery if she wanted everyone to see.
I tuck it against my palm and keep eating, waiting until the natural ebb and flow of conversation gives me cover.
My mates are all curious, naturally, but no one asks any questions, both Ambrose and Harlow gently sliding a little closer in a protective gesture.
Rumi's essence flares, gold shot through with black, and I see his jaw clench. His eyes go distant for a moment, like he's listening to something none of us can hear. The darkness in his aura writhes, more active than usual, before he seems to wrench his attention back to the present.
"Rumi?" I ask quietly. "You okay?"
"Fine." The word comes out clipped, his hands flexing on the table. "Just... processing."
But his eyes when they meet mine are harder than they were a moment ago, and the black threads in his golden aura take longer to settle than they should.
Waiting another second, I unfold the paper under the table, my blood running cold.
The note is brief but a little messy, almost as if Tamara had rushed through it.
They're coming for him. Council sent word this morning. Be ready. - T.
My hand tightens on the paper, crumpling the edges. My five mates sense my distress immediately, their attention snapping toward me. Stellan's fire essence flickers hot enough that the table starts to warm beneath our hands.
"What is it?" Rumi asks quietly, his voice a deadly calm.
I slide the note to the center of the table where they can all see it. The temperature in our immediate area drops as Harlow's essence responds to the threat.
"They're not taking you," Jade says flatly. It's not a statement of hope or determination. It's a declaration of fact, backed by the full weight of his demonic essence.
"None of us," I agree, folding the note and tucking it into my pocket.
"We knew this was coming eventually. We'll handle it together, right?
" Mother Nature had a lot to say when Stellan shifted into that phoenix. Well, before and after it. There’s no way that someone sent from The Council will ruin all that. Right?
But even as I think it, I can feel the undercurrent of fear running through all of them.
The Council doesn't send people to talk. They send them to capture, to contain, and to eliminate threats. The very system Dmitri built exists because people like Stellan supposedly don’t.
The bigger problem is that Stellan isn’t the only perceived ‘threat’ to the system.
We all are.