Chapter 11 Avery
AVERY
Breakfast this morning was a tenser affair than it’d been yesterday. Mal kept the conversation upbeat, but the weird stares and whispers surrounding us in the dining hall weren’t exactly subtle.
“So, uh,” Allen said around a mouthful of bacon, “did everything go okay at Guardian training yesterday, Avery?”
Chance stared at me with wide eyes. “They didn’t toss you out, did they?”
“They did try,” I told him, narrowing my eyes at some freshmen who were sneering and pointing in my direction from a few tables over.
“Yeah, the lead trainer would’ve had Avery bodily removed from the arena if Intense Bear Daddy hadn’t stepped in,” Ian added, grinning. “I think he likes her.”
I pinched my brow. “Can we please stop calling him that?”
Allen gaped at me. “Ward Gale was there? You crashed Guardian training when the big bear was around?”
I shrugged. “He seems nice.”
Mallory pointed her spoon at me. “First the snake, now this. I think you’ve been living away from shifters for too long, friend, and it’s warped your judgment. Try to remember that we’re all violent, untrustworthy beasts and proceed with more caution. No petting.”
“I am not going to pet any bears,” I retorted.
Wyatt chose that moment to stride into the dining hall, dressed to incinerate panties in fitted dark jeans, combat boots, and a tight long-sleeved T-shirt that hugged his broad chest. A black beanie covered his red hair, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold outside.
He grabbed two coffees from the beverage bar, gave a friendly bro nod to one of the tables full of quads I recognized from training, and then sauntered back toward the door.
I watched him over the rim of my mug. As if he could feel my gaze on him, he glanced my way, and our eyes met. A sheen rolled over his emerald irises—his beast peeking out to say hello. My own beast rose in response, gliding like silk under my skin.
Wyatt grinned, a look of smug satisfaction on his handsome face. He winked at me, and then he disappeared through the hall’s arched entrance and out of sight.
Mal cleared her throat. “Well, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to pet that bear,” she muttered under her breath.
“Me neither,” Ash added, studying the now-empty doorway. “I’m gay as hell, but that’s an ass.”
As I’d seen that ass naked yesterday, I could confirm.
I pushed my chair back from the table and got to my feet, slinging my backpack over my shoulder. “On that note, I’m off to class,” I told everyone. “Regular, boring, non-magical literature class. No bears.”
Famous last words.
Early to class, I was able to grab a seat in a quiet row near the back of the room.
The space, smaller than my classrooms yesterday, since it was an upper-level class, was arranged in a semicircle with auditorium-style seating.
We were in an older part of the Humanities building, so the room came with wood paneling, a chalkboard instead of a whiteboard, and chairs that creaked loudly when sat in.
Students filed in around me. Most didn’t look my way, but there were a few who stared, whispered something to their friends, or made a face.
I couldn’t let it bother me, or else I’d go nuts. It was only my second day.
Now that I was here, did I think it would’ve been nice to have a normal college experience, as much as a shifter-only school could be considered normal? Going to class, making friends, parties, boys, and all without signing up for the staring and whispers and near-death experiences?
Yeah, sure I did.
It was probably still within my reach if I wanted to put my swords away, bow out of Guardian training, and pretend to be a normal shifter girl for the next year and a half.
The risk of someone coming after me because of the rumor of what I was would probably dissipate over time.
I could work on convincing my dads of that fact, and they wouldn’t pull me out of school if I wanted to stay here without becoming a Guardian.
But fuck that.
After yesterday, I wasn’t just joining the Guardians because my family thought I needed it to be safe or because I had the skills to succeed there.
It wasn’t even about the real need for those with my skill set to protect our community from the horrors of the wraiths. I could do that at home.
No. Now I was joining the Guardian training program because I wanted to be there.
It was the somewhat ridiculous discovery that trainees didn’t go anywhere near a real wraith until senior year that did it.
I wanted to be a constant reminder that this was cowardly and negligent when nearby unpatrolled areas were experiencing casualties at higher rates every year.
I’d be a thorn in the sides of Cash the Dick and his bro-squad when I performed as good as or better than their best, all because I’d had real-world experience instead of being sheltered inside their magical “near-perfect replica” that supposedly churned out the best Guardians in a generation.
But it was also that arena. I’d never felt so moondamned alive as I had out there, slaying wraiths that looked and moved like real ones, all without the low thrum of fear I was used to when facing the actual threat of grievous bodily harm or death.
Ian and I had worked that Giant monstrosity together like we did that kind of thing every day, and we really didn’t.
I’d seen a Giant all of twice in my life, and the second time was the night that brought me here.
The only injuries I’d walked away with were some bruised ribs and the phantom pain from the magic making my body think I’d almost had my arm bitten off by a needle-toothed serpent creature.
When Cash had thrown that thing onto the floor, I’d worried that I’d be fighting the urge to shift the whole time.
But with Ian’s help and the knowledge that I was facing a magical construct and not actually fighting for my life, my beast had been content to ride the adrenaline wave and let me work.
I couldn’t wait to do it again.
The chatter around me quieted. I glanced up from my laptop, expecting to see the professor entering the room, but instead it was a student.
He seemed impervious to the stares, his gait stealthy and graceful as he made his way to the shallow staircase that bisected the rows of desks.
He was tall—maybe six-two or three—with a lean build that still showed off corded muscle all over.
He radiated raw power, barely contained within that sinewy body. It felt cold and brutal.
My beast was immediately on edge.
As he climbed the stairs, he finally looked up from his phone, shoving it lazily in the pocket of his ripped jeans. Our gazes slammed together like magnets, and I strangled a gasp.
He was beautiful, this guy. His eyes were an eerie yellow gold—a unique color, even for a shifter.
His inky black hair hung in tousled waves over his forehead and around his ears.
A thin gold hoop hugged each of his earlobes, and he had another looped through his nostril.
He wore no jacket or sweatshirt, only a loose linen shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down his sternum, showcasing olive skin and a sculpted chest. A tattoo peeked from his collar—a snake, wrapped around the back of his neck and draped over his shoulders, the head and tail each dipping just below his collarbone.
This had to be Elijah.
The basilisk shifter.
Fourth and final member of the Blackwell Quad.
George’s daddy.
He stared at me for a second, and then he broke into a big, beaming smile as if I was the most exciting thing he’d ever seen.
He resumed his climb, headed straight for me.
The small hairs rose on my neck. My beast surged under my skin, her fur standing on end, coiled and ready.
Elijah licked his lips, and a sly smile appeared on his face.
He kept those yellow eyes pinned to me as he slinked into my row.
He dropped his weathered backpack to the floor and sat down beside me, sprawling lazily in the creaky chair, his long legs stretching into the row below.
He smelled minty and a little tropical, like fresh citrus or a fruity drink.
“If it isn’t the new girl,” he said, his voice a silky rasp. “I’ve heard so much about you, Avery Baxter.”
Students were fully turned around in their chairs, gawking at us. He either didn’t notice or didn’t care.
“I’ve heard quite a bit about you, too, Elijah Harrow,” I replied.
He grinned. His teeth were blinding white, his canines sharper than anyone’s human form had a right to be. “I can’t believe my luck, getting to share my Tuesday and Thursday mornings with the girl who has my quad in a bit of a tizzy. Not to mention my snake.”
I decided to ignore the insinuation that his quad had been talking about me, even though it made me feel weirdly tingly. I made a show of looking at the floor around us. “Where is George? I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning.”
He only grinned wider. “I see how it is. You prefer his company to mine?”
“I just met you.”
“True.” He reached under the desk, rummaged in his bag, and pulled out a scuffed laptop. “I fed him this morning, so he’s sleeping it off. Hopefully by the time he’s out and about again, I’ll be your favorite snake on campus.”
Something not entirely unpleasant burned in my belly. My beast went from one fang-flash away from ready to kill to making a preening little rumble in my chest.
Why are you like this?
“Are you this welcoming to all the new girls?” I asked him under my breath, since the professor had finally strode into the room.
“Certainly not. Just the ones who make Cash Rogers look like an imbecile in front of the entire sophomore and junior training classes. Aiden has faculty access to the security camera footage in the arena, babe. I got to watch you in all your glory last night.”
I shoved down the urge to squirm. The fact that Heath and Wyatt had watched my wraith battle in real time hadn’t registered at the time—too much other fun and exciting shit going on—but imagining the entire Blackwell Quad sitting around a laptop to study me after the fact?
My beast lounged within me, tail flicking as she casually cleaned a claw, preening again. We were constantly bouncing between the urge to challenge, dominate, kill the Blackwell Quad and rolling over and showing our belly to each of them.
Seriously, what is wrong with you?
Time to redirect. “Cash is a prick. I think you should eat him.”
Elijah waggled his dark brows. “Maybe someday.”
The professor began her lecture, and I tried to relax as I sat nearly shoulder to shoulder with the most dangerous predator I’d ever encountered.
It was easier than it should’ve been. Maybe Mal was right about my shifter instincts being rusty.
An hour passed. Elijah didn’t move even an inch out of the cozy little space between us, but he appeared to be dutifully taking notes through the entire lecture.
For the last thirty minutes of class, we were assigned a short story to read followed by some discussion questions that we were to go over with our neighbor.
“You feel so… bright,” Elijah mused. His golden stare was heavy on my face as I finished the reading. Probing. Just this side of predatory. “I’d love to know what you are,” he went on, “but I hear we aren’t being particularly forthcoming about that?”
I fought the blush that was threatening to rise under his curious gaze. He was as mesmerizing as he was dangerous. “I bet you wish you could walk these halls occasionally without people knowing what you are.”
He sobered a bit. “That’s true enough. It was never in the cards for me, though. Not as a mythic. And my beast would struggle with… discretion, anyway.”
I gave him a sympathetic smile. The more powerful the beast half of one’s soul, the more difficult the fight for control could become. I couldn’t imagine what that was like for a mythic, and especially one like him.
His cheeky grin returned, and he leaned even closer to me, whispering, “Don’t think I didn’t notice you dodging my question, but fine. Keep your secrets.”
I would, thank you, at least until I had the might and the respect of the Guardians at my back.
When class was dismissed, he escorted me down the stairs and out into the hall. I got the sense that this was unusual behavior for him, given the stares and hushed conversations had started up again.
“I really was normal before I came here,” I told Elijah with a sigh. “No one special. Nothing to be whispered about in the halls.”
He stopped, turning to face me. With gentle fingers pressed under my chin, he tilted my face so that I was looking him right in those yellow eyes. “I sincerely doubt you’ve been normal a day in your life, Dove. No more hiding for you.”
I could only stand there, transfixed, as his eyes began to glow. His pupils turned to slits, and I sucked in a quiet gasp.
His coy smile fell. He shut his eyes and dropped his fingers from my chin, curling them into a fist.
I stepped back to give him some space. “See you later, Elijah,” I whispered before I hurried away.
“Until tomorrow, Dove.”