Chapter 18
MONROE
For the next two weeks I focus on my classes and learning as much as possible. Briar still hasn’t returned to teach, and the dean has taken over Transformational Studies in his absence. While I have no desire to see him, there’s also been no word if he’s met with Fate.
The first week after the mate mark appeared, I was frantic, scanning over every harbinger we passed for any sign of recognition, random chest scratching, waiting for someone to declare their eternal devotion.
I’ve tried to put it out of my mind, ignore the unfamiliar sensations that hit me out of nowhere, but the idea of running into whoever it is fills me with dread—at odds with the messed-up curiosity to know more about them.
Worst of all, my emotions are out of control.
Random bouts of sadness, longing, or frustration cloud my days.
I try using my therapy toolbox and regulating techniques, but nothing works. Then, poof, they’re suddenly gone.
It’s like having constant PMS—definitely not conducive to focusing on my studies to get back home. No wonder I have no magic to work with.
I’m an immortal trainwreck.
To avoid any unwanted mate run-ins, I’ve kept my outings to the Conservatory and the café with Cherri after class. When Roxy gets off work, we head home, and I tuck away in my room, studying or painting any items I can get my hands on.
So far, I’ve made over a collection of mugs, two teapots, a small statue of a bunny, four saucers, and one picture frame.
Sneaking them back to their original places is tricky but worth it.
I’m not trying to steal anything, but with all the color in this realm, those plain pieces deserve some vibrancy as well.
Meanwhile, the canvas sits empty on its easel in the corner.
Whoever my mate is, they haven’t found me. Thank goodness.
Hopefully, Fate gets this figured out. She’ll surely reassign them someone who is desperate for a mate. Someone like Cherri, who’s sitting beside me, staring dreamily at our professors.
I jolt when she snaps out of her lusty haze. “Look who’s back.”
Briar strides in, hanging his jacket from his usual tulip hook. My back stiffens as he scans the room, though he avoids my gaze. “Go ahead and circle up, everyone.”
Guess he’s honoring my request for him to stay out of my way.
It’s what I wanted, isn’t it? I should be pleased, but there’s a kernel of disappointment I can’t shake. Not until I know if he’s spoken with Fate. Nerves bubble through my belly, nausea curdling until bile surges up my throat. I swallow it down.
“Sorry for my absence, I was under the weather and then had some urgent Radix business to attend to.” He joins us in the circle, and now that I’m closer, he looks much better than he did a few weeks ago in his office.
No bags under his eyes, no taut lines along his face.
“Anyone up for demonstrating where they’re at in their transformation?
I’d love to see what progress you’ve made while I was out. ”
About five hands shoot up, including Cherri’s.
I’m grateful my classmates are eager to show off because I’m still unable to do anything special.
It seems especially cruel that the closest I’ve gotten to any magic is when it was inked across my skin.
Not even through intention or choice. I should at least be able to dress myself at this point.
“Skylar, why don’t you go first?” Her mint skin and dark-green eyes make her look like a lithe piece of broccoli with a wad of bubblegum stuck to its top as she steps into the center of the circle.
Unzipping her black mini dress, she lowers one sleeve and, in elegant precision, sinks to the floor, becoming a mop of fluffy dark-brown fur and long, floppy ears.
Her dark-pink-flecked nose wriggles. My eyes widen.
We haven’t practiced shifting while Briar was out.
The dean’s been keen on ensuring we fully understand the anatomical changes between harbinger and bunny, but somehow Skylar’s already perfected it.
Bet she can even dress herself, lucky bitch.
I frown at the black lace bodysuit and cutoff jeans Cherri convinced me to wear this morning.
Convinced is generous because she chose it for me and I’ve gotten too lazy to protest. Every day my outfit becomes tighter and made with less fabric.
I’d fire her from her stylist duties, but there aren’t enough drapes in the house to last me a week.
Two more students go, and while they aren’t as seamless as Skylar, once they are naked and have tried a few times, they are able to bounce in and out of their bunny forms.
“Very good. You all must have been practicing hard these last few weeks. Cherri, why don’t you give it a shot?” Briar says, hands in his pockets.
My roommate shuffles out to the center. I’m so used to her exuding confidence that her nervous expression cuts through my own anxiety.
I give her a nod of encouragement, and a faint smile graces her lips. Cracking her neck, she flexes her fingers, takes a deep breath, and closes her eyes.
We wait for something to move aside from her nose wiggling, but it doesn’t.
Her brows bunch.
Nothing happens.
Her lips press into a thin line.
Nothing happens.
Finally, after about six more attempts, she shrinks down into a black bunny with patches of auburn fur. Her ears prick up and she balances on her hind legs. Everyone claps.
I bend down, and she frolics over so I can pat the heart-shaped auburn patch between her ears. “Alright, I’m envious. You better teach me how to do this later, okay?”
Cherri thumps a foot appreciatively. My heart melts a bit as I continue to scratch the spot.
How I’ve missed those little thump, thump, thumps.
Memories of Jessica and Sir Thumps-A-Lot zooming around my tiny apartment scampers to the forefront of my mind.
Without meaning to, my gaze flicks up to Briar.
The ball of his throat works, those inky vines rippling as he does.
“Time to shift back,” he instructs my roommate. But instead of shifting, Cherri scampers around the room, her furry chest lifted and proud.
Show off.
“Great work, Cherri. Now take a few steps back from the tablus vinnaus and shift,” Briar says.
There’s an edge to his voice that I don’t understand.
Not until Cherri trips, bouncing into the vines swaying from the table.
Briar lunges to get her, but it’s too late.
The strands of leaves cradle her, then swallow her up.
Gasps echo through the room.
Shit.
“Where does it go?” Skylar asks.
Worry nips at me as Briar drops to his knees and reaches between the flowing vines. “To the storage supply chute. It tunnels deep underground.” A high-pitched shriek comes from within the table, and Briar turns to Dani. “Go get the dean. I’ll try to get her untangled.”
Without hesitation, Dani sprints out the door.
Grabbing fistfuls of vines and tugging them aside, our professor continues hunting for Cherri. He pulls out pencils, pots, bags of soil, a notebook, and a sunlamp, tossing them to the floor.
“Fuck it,” he mutters. He shrinks down into a chestnut fluff, bounding out from the neckline of his shirt and dashing between two billowing vines.
The shrieks morph into whines. I wince, sick to my stomach. All of us move closer, trying to see what’s happening, but it’s fruitless. The table’s flora sways back and forth, hiding them from view until there’s silence aside from their rustling.
Just as the dean rushes in, there’s another high-pitched squeal. A black bunny with auburn patches is launched from beneath the table, landing sprawled on the ground. Panic riots between my ribs.
I hurry to pick her up, brushing the dirt from her fur.
“Cherri?” She huffs but doesn’t move. “Cherri, wake up.”
But she doesn’t. She’s breathing but limp in my arms.
“Where’s Briar?” the dean asks, voice stern.
“He went in after her, but he hasn’t come back out,” someone says from behind me.
The dean waves in someone dressed in pale-pink scrubs. She comes over and holds out her arms. “Here, let me take a look at her.”
I hand Cherri over. My head is suddenly dizzy and I fight the urge to throw up. “Is she going to be okay?”
“She will. Her body is probably just in shock.”
I inhale deeply, the nausea settling a bit, though I still feel off kilter. My attention snaps to the gasps of relief from behind me.
Blooms jump back from the chestnut rabbit springing from the wrestling vines.
He lands on the ground with a thud, scrambling against the last few tangled tendrils trapping his paws.
Dirt puffs up around him and a loud pop echoes through the room.
When the motes clear, Briar is on his knees, panting. Naked.
Inky anemones that look as though they’ve been drawn from shadow climb the length of his spine. Flourished vines wrap around one shoulder, weaving through bunches of hawthorn and a few other flowers I haven’t memorized the name for.
He shifts his weight to stand, and my whole body pulls taut.
Where empty space once spanned his chest, now resides a single peony with a stem crawling down his sternum. There’s something wrapped around it, crossing over the left side of his chest.
I stagger to the side, trying to see it better, but Briar hastily magics a shirt and pants onto himself.
Wobbling back a step, I jolt against Cherri as she catches me in a hug. She’s now fully dressed and the color has returned to her cheeks. “Did you see? I did it!”
“You did,” I exhale, shaken up from the last few minutes. Cherri’s beaming at me with so much pride. I drag her in for another hug and hang on to her like she’s a lifeline, trying not to react. “Proud of you, but I could have done without you getting stuck.”
“Me too,” Cherri says, squeezing me tighter. “It was pitch black and the chute is like a vacuum. I’m so glad Professor Briar found me before it completely sucked me through. Gosh, that was so scary.”
“It really was.”
The dean pulls our instructor aside.
“That’ll be all for today,” she says, dismissing us. She hugs him tight.
Weird.
“Ready to get out of here?” Cherri asks.
I nod, grabbing our things. “More than you know.”
I’m about to follow Cherri out of the classroom, but a deep voice stops me in the doorway. “Dr. Tanner.”
“Yes, Professor Briar?” I don’t turn to face him. For some reason, I can’t stop thinking about his new tattoo. Though it’s hidden beneath his shirt, it’s inked into my memory.
We both just happen to have peonies on our mate marks… I mean, they are a fairly common flower. I’m sure plenty of Blooms have them.
“Please stop by my office before you head home. I’ll be there in a few minutes. It’s down the hall and on the left.”
My eyes dart to Cherri, preparing any excuse I can to leave. I need to slow down and process the last ten minutes. “But—”
“It’s about your request.” His voice is firm, like the please was more of a formality.
“She’ll be there,” Cherri answers for me with a smile. So much more pleasant than any expression I’d willingly give him. “Thanks again for helping me. You’re my hero.”
I swear a little vomit gurgles up my throat.
“Don’t mention it. Glad nothing worse happened.” Briar lowers his chin. Is that pink staining his cheeks? If it were anyone else, I’d think it was adorable, but it’s him, so it’s not.
While I don’t trust him—or Fate, for that matter—I’ve waited weeks to hear back on their meeting. I clear my throat, shaking off the tension in my shoulders. “See you in a few minutes, Professor.”