Chapter 4 Avery
AVERY
Apparently this was a near-daily occurrence for the wolf students as they fought for their place in the hierarchy.
Now we were sitting at one of the tables in the college’s only dining hall, which had probably been a church in its previous life.
It was a cavernous space with cathedral ceilings, pointed arch windows, and stately wood paneling on every wall.
Long banquet tables were arranged in neat rows around us.
Ornate chandeliers hung from the rafters above us.
We piled our plates high with food from the breakfast buffet, which smelled amazing, while our new friends gave us the lay of the land.
The tables where the various factions of wolves congregated.
The spots where the groups were more mixed and divided by class year or area of study.
The faculty tables tucked away in a smaller space off the main dining room, accessible through a wide, arched doorway.
“And over there are the avians,” Mallory said, gesturing with her bagel at a table in the back corner.
A large group of students sporting the big eyes and sharp, angular features of bird shifters chatted amiably amongst themselves.
“They’re pretty chill. Most of the ones who shift rank as minor and are drama averse, but there are a few raptors over there who are classed as ordinary and can be aggressive if you piss them off. ”
Yeah, it was never wise to fuck with a bird of prey, no matter how big and bad you thought you were.
“Ah, and the elite are beginning to arrive,” Allen said with an exaggerated eye roll. “Try not to faint, everyone.”
More students entered the hall and began to congregate at the open tables in the center of the room.
The guys had the hulking, muscular builds of powerful Prime shifters, their worn jeans clinging to thick thighs and designer jackets struggling to contain wide shoulders.
They moved with the swagger of shifter males who were a big deal and knew it.
Scattered among them were the elite shifter girls. Slim but curvy in the right places. Hair and makeup that would’ve taken me two hours to accomplish. Knee-high leather boots. Long wool coats and high-fashion scarves. Feminine. Demure. Ideal latent females from wealthy Prime families.
Ian eyed the group lazily as he sipped Earl Grey from a mug sporting the Proteus College crest. “Quads?” he asked our friends. “And their bonds?”
“Some of them,” Allen’s friend, Chance, replied with a casual shrug.
He wore his chestnut hair long, and his stacks of leather-corded necklaces gave him a distinct hippie vibe.
“Most of the Primes have formed a trio or a quad by junior year or so. Some have already found their central and bonded, and the ones who haven’t are definitely on the hunt. ”
I couldn’t contain my snort. “Eager to use whichever lucky girl they choose as a power conductor?”
How the magic of bonding worked between shifters was mysterious, but it was well-known that the more powerful the beast, the greater the effect of the bond.
Shifters like Mallory and Allen bonded for love, but Prime groups bonded for bloodlines and the ability to share power through their connection with their central.
But they probably didn’t run around announcing that fact. The princesses wanted to be wooed by their princes, after all.
My comment elicited some raised eyebrows, but not from Allen’s other friend, Ashley—or “Ash” as she’d instructed us to call her, on pain of death.
Her black hair was shaved on the sides and styled in a sleek swoop on the top of her head.
She’d pushed the sleeves of her black sweater to her elbows, exposing strong forearms covered in neat geometric tattoos.
She wore several hoops pierced through her ears, one through her nose, and the dozen or so rings on her long fingers told me that, while she was from a wolf-shifter family, she was likely latent.
Ian and I had both questioned our sexualities for a hot second when Allen introduced her.
“That’s a true statement,” Ash replied with a husky chuckle, “but let’s not pretend those girls aren’t just as desperate to land a powerful quad with wealth and connections. The ones destined for the Guardians are also a hot commodity.”
“I bet,” I said. “An extra status bump, being bonded to future war heroes.”
“I’m sure four huge dicks don’t hurt either,” Ian added.
I elbowed him.
Chance studied one of the tables full of large males. “I wonder if any of them have a shot at the top of the leaderboard this semester.”
“Nah,” Allen said with a dismissive wave. “My buddies in Support Squadron tell me that someone in Blackwell Quad would have to die before they gave up the lead, probably.”
Ian and I exchanged confused glances. “The leaderboard?” Ian asked.
“And who are the Blackwell Quad?” I added.
Allen gestured at the back of a T-shirt worn by a male with long golden hair and huge shoulders. Printed on it was the logo of the Guardians—a beast claw bisected by a long sword. The words “Junior Champions 2024” were stamped beneath it.
“This is a Guardian training thing?” I asked.
Mallory nodded. “Yeah, it’s how they decide who to cut and who makes it through the program to become a full-fledged Guardian. There’s even a competition every spring that’s open to spectators. Students like to go watch and make bets on the winners.”
Uh. “Competition doing what, exactly?” Surely they weren’t letting wraiths loose on campus, if that was even a thing that was possible?
Allen laughed. “You’ll see. It’s fun to watch, that’s for sure. Some of our wolf friends are still hanging in there in the Support Squadron group.”
“Allen and I tried out when we were freshmen,” Chance added. “It was just fitness drills and combat training the first year, and we were both shit with a blade.”
Before Ian or I could articulate any more questions, heads began to swivel toward the entrance and whispers intensified, as if we were in the presence of celebrities.
Two male students strode into the room.
Mallory leaned in to whisper in my ear. “You asked who the Blackwell Quad is. There’s two of them now.”
I didn’t need to be told that these two guys were top-of-the-food-chain Prime shifters.
They were both well over six feet tall and built like they could toss a monster-truck tire like a frisbee while also being able to run a sub-six-minute mile.
They oozed dominant energy as they breezed by our table, striding with the fluid grace of predators rather than the cocky swagger of their peers.
“The redhead is Wyatt Gale,” Mallory went on. “His beast is a bear, believe it or not.”
I blinked in shock, then immediately began to sneakily check him out from under my lashes.
Most Prime bear shifters were big burly guys built like offensive linemen on a professional football team.
Wyatt was big—at least six-four by the look of him—but he had more of a linebacker’s build, brutal but agile.
His hair was a dark auburn shade, cut short on the sides but long and messy on the top.
He wore distressed black jeans and boots with a white Henley molded to his broad chest. I could just make out small black plugs in his earlobes and the intricate tattoos that crawled out from under his collar and up the sides of his neck.
Unfortunately, he was probably the hottest guy I’d ever laid eyes on.
Except for the guy who’d come in with him.
Great.
“And the golden boy with Wyatt is Heath Blackwell,” Allen said, his voice suddenly full of reverence. “He’s the most dominant Alpha the school’s had in a long time.”
Chance nodded solemnly, and even Ash wore a look of profound respect as she watched Heath Blackwell nod a polite greeting to his fellow Primes.
Other wolf shifters acted that way around my dad on occasion. It was innate, the way they saw Alpha wolves as deities walking among mortals.
Heath was only an inch or so shorter than Wyatt but built just as solidly.
He wore a gray long-sleeve shirt with the college crest and crisp blue jeans that hugged his very tight ass.
His hair was darker at the roots before fading naturally into sandy-blond strands, wavy and artfully tousled.
His exposed tan skin was tattoo free, and he sported just enough stubble to add a rough, masculine edge to what was a very pretty face.
Greek-god-carved-from-marble pretty. Painted-on-the-roof-of-the-Sistine-Chapel pretty.
My beast half perked up, and I did the mental equivalent of swatting her on the nose.
No, ma’am.
Heath and Wyatt took their places at the end of one of the center tables.
Wyatt wore a lazy smirk as he leaned back in his chair and took a swig from whatever was in his to-go cup.
Heath studied his phone, unaffected by his surroundings and ignoring the cluster of students trying to get his attention.
“And the locusts descend,” Mallory muttered as several of the girls at the table pranced over to talk to them. “There are still quite a few top quads who haven’t bonded yet, but Blackwell is the holy grail.”
I didn’t doubt it. “Where are the rest of their quad?” I asked.
“Well, one of them is actually Heath’s older brother,” Allen said. “He graduated a few years ago, but he and Heath are so tight that Aiden put off joining a quad until his brother and the others started here.”
“And no one ever knows when Elijah will be around,” Ash added with a shrug. “He’s one of the reasons their quad is so far and away ahead of all the others. He’s a mythic.”
I almost spit my iced coffee across the table. “Seriously? Are there any more at school?”
Mythic shifters were extremely rare and off the charts on the power scale. My dad, Joseph, claimed he met a Cerberus once, but the rest of us had never encountered one.
Mallory hummed. “Yeah, one of the senior quads has a griffin. But Elijah’s a basilisk. Everyone is fucking terrified of him.”
My beast half chuffed like she thought that was ridiculous and she’d enjoy meeting a giant raging snake monster.
Absolutely not.
Ian nudged me. “A basilisk, Aves. Sounds hot.”
Mallory’s blue eyes suddenly went comically wide. “By the Moon, Avery, isn’t your dad an Alpha wolf?”
“One of my dads is, yes,” I replied, now focused on shoveling bites of waffle into my mouth.
She barked out a loud laugh, attracting the attention of some of the tables around us. “No wonder they let you just drop into school in the middle of your junior year! If they think you’re the latent daughter of a Prime….” She paused, frowning. “Wait, are you?”
I swallowed my waffle and sipped my coffee with a smile. “The administration thinks so.”
The table was silent for the briefest moment before it was just shrugs all around.
“Sure,” Mallory replied with a big grin, then waggled her eyebrows suggestively. “Shouldn’t you be over there trying to cozy up to Wyatt and Heath like the other blue bloods, then?”
“Uh….” I waved a hand at my general state of being, “I don’t think I’d fit in.”
My loose sweater, comfy jeans, and low-maintenance ponytail were not really it.
Allen winked at me. “The magic doesn’t really care about clothes, Avery. Go let those big powerful beasts take a sniff of you and see what happens.”
Ian cackled. “See, Aves, our new friends have known you for all of an hour, and even they think you need to loosen up and get laid.”
I punched his arm. “Shut up.”
“Well, I for one am looking forward to getting to know all the big players on campus,” he said in a lazy drawl. He leaned back in his chair and threw his hands behind his head. “I’m sure we’ll see some of them in Guardian training. I’m signed up, and Avery is going to crash with me.”
Chance choked on his French toast. Allen smothered a cough. Mallory and Ash stared at both of us like we’d sprouted tentacles.
“Way to play it cool,” I said with a weary sigh. “You broke them.”
Mallory recovered first. “Um, well, that’s… ambitious. The Support Squadron is mostly ordinary shifters, so I guess that would apply to you, Ian?”
“My beast is a fox,” he announced with a cheeky grin.
“Right.” She cleared her throat. I admired her valiant attempt to keep an encouraging smile on her face. “I’m sure you’ve realized Guardian training is extremely competitive, and starting in the middle of your sophomore year will put you behind, but… good luck?”
“Thank you.”
The rest of the group hadn’t taken their wide-eyed stares off me. “You’re going to crash Guardian training?” Chance asked, looking very bewildered. “They, uh…. There aren’t any females in the Guardians. Not even in the Support Squadron.”
Which was bullshit, obviously. I shrugged. “Seems silly. The Guardian forces need all the skilled bodies they can muster.”
“Avery,” Mallory hissed, her green eyes wide with panic. “Can you shift? You won’t stand a chance otherwise. You could get seriously hurt!”
I patted her hand. She meant well, and her worry for me was actually kind of nice. “I’ll manage, Mal. It’s what I came here to do.”
She frowned. “It is?”
Ian nudged me, and we both got to our feet. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and pasted a light-hearted smile on my face. “Well, we’re off to remedial magic class. Thanks for giving us the lay of the land. See you guys at lunch?”
They all just nodded silently back at me.
As I followed Ian out of the dining hall, I turned to give one more friendly wave to Mal. She probably thought I was nuts, but hopefully she’d still want to be my friend. It’d be nice to have one at school who wasn’t my brother.
My gaze collided with a pair of hazel eyes over Mallory’s shoulder. Eyes that focused on me with such intensity that they had me pinned momentarily to the floor.
Heath Blackwell was staring at me, and not in a casual manner.
My beast rumbled a challenge.
Settle down.
Tearing my attention from Heath, I couldn’t help but glance at Wyatt next to him. Wyatt’s bright green eyes did a little dip down my body and back up again, like he was checking me out and didn’t care if I knew it. His air of lazy amusement was a stark contrast to his serious quadmate.
I turned away and stomped off after Ian, groaning inwardly. I didn’t want the attention of the Blackwell Quad or any Primes, but I wasn’t naive.
I was going to attract attention sooner rather than later.
It was time to ready myself for the consequences.