Chapter 21 Monroe
MONROE
The next morning I’m exhausted from staying up and narrowing down what sparked my magic.
The only variables that remain on the list are desire, hormonal release, and relaxation.
Between staring at my empty pot in Professor Kitt’s class, I glance around at my classmates.
They all look normal, growing and playing with plant variations.
I need my magic to flow as well as theirs.
We’re moving into afternoons at the greenhouse next week—at least those who can create greenery.
I refuse to be stuck waiting until another session at the Conservatory to move forward.
Inhaling deeply, I go into some box breathing, trying to mimic the conditions of last night as much as is appropriate for the classroom. I close my eyes and sift through the senses.
Breathe in for four…hold for four…breathe out for four…hold for four.
The relaxing smell of vanilla and cherry blossoms, the warmth of the tub, the slickness of water against my skin, the velvety petals. Desire unfurls below my belly, fluttering subtly until it’s buzzing through my body.
“Well done, Monroe,” Kitt says over my shoulder.
I snap my eyes open to where he’s looking appreciatively at the large leaves growing from my pot. Unlike last night’s grass, a thicker stem draws up from between the blades.
“Keep at it. Looking forward to seeing what you create.”
I flush under his praise. My eyes are glued to my stalk—watching it grow inch by inch until it curves over the pot in an arch.
Tiny buds pepper its stem. They may not blossom with ease like the spray of hot-pink roses in Cherri’s, the irises in Skylar’s, or the lush hawthorns in Dani’s, but I’ve been here for weeks and it’s the most I’ve been able to do. More than even last night.
I bounce on my heels a few times and get back to work.
For Bloomology, Professor Tess details the harbinger cycles. They vary slightly for each season, but I focus my copious notes on spring’s charts. In the northern hemisphere, spring’s work begins in early March and ends late May.
“Now, the Storms are supposed to wait until late June, but somehow the summer heat keeps coming sooner.”
Isn’t that the truth.
I think back to my last summer in the mortal world and how damn hot it was getting around DC with a pencil skirt trapping my sticky thighs.
“It’s been hindering Spring’s work for years now and each time it gets worse.”
“Why is it happening?” someone asks from the front row. I think his name is Sam.
“We aren’t sure,” Professor Tess replies. “Our Radixes have been discussing it with Fate, and they’re trying to set up a time for all the leaders to meet.”
I glance down at my chart. Based on the northern hemisphere, rejuvenation for Blooms takes place in the summer, or winter if they’re bringing spring below the equator.
We will all be taking a preemptive rest before next spring, so long as we pass the course.
According to our instructors, it ensures we replenish our magical stores to last our first earthside season.
Our magic is like a muscle, it takes time to build up strength and endurance. Rejuvenation counteracts that.
“Solstice takes place at the end of our spring rotations.” A few hands shoot up with questions. Looks like the next one will be near the end of November or early December… I raise my hand.
“Monroe.”
I lift my chin, trying to exude confidence without the slightest hint that I’m asking for a specific reason. “If solstice isn’t on a set date, how do you know when it is?”
A few classmates chuckle and mutter under their breath.
The professor frowns at them. “That’s a great question for a new Bloom.
It’s a gradual shift. For one, your instincts will take over.
You’ll want to get back to Florezca, show signs of extreme thirst, or feel hazy and feverish.
There is also usually a nesting component, where you get a boost of unexplained energy right beforehand.
It’s your body’s way of trying to finish up its spring duties so you have enough magic to return beyond the veil. ”
Skylar’s hand jolts up, and Tess nods in her direction. “What happens if you don’t make it back before the veil closes?”
“Any Bloom who isn’t back once the veil is closed is susceptible to seasonal sickness. While we are immortal, seasonal sickness will cause dizziness, clammy skin, and jitters.”
Sir Thumps-A-Lot’s chestnut fur quivering against my palm replays in my memory. Explains why the vet didn’t know how to diagnose him. It was seasonal sickness. He’d been in my care for a few months, far beyond when the veil would close, according to the chart.
“The symptoms compound slowly, but they severely weaken a Bloom, making any use of their magic nearly impossible. It’s why we have our Rescue Riders.
” She gestures toward Dani who smirks and twists to show off their leather jacket’s emblem.
“They are a special group of Blooms who Fate calls on to help locate and return harbingers who have missed the window. It’s rare they’re needed, but they are always ready to assist just in case. ”
“Well, I won’t be needing any rescuing,” Cherri says to me with every bit of mirth directed at our professors. “I’ll be back the moment the veil opens. I can’t wait for my first solstice,”
Tess clears her throat, though I don’t miss the subtle flush across her clavicles. Dani pops a bubble behind our heads, but I no longer turn around when they do. I find it’s better to ignore them. My brows bunch together and I raise my hand again. Tess nods at me.
“Does that mean not every Bloom experiences solstice?” If Cherri has been dead six months, then surely she would have been around for the last one.
“Correct. Only Blooms who’ve been using their spring magic consistently and need replenishment experience solstice, along with any Bloom mated to someone who has.
Their body will sense the shift in their mate.
” I vaguely remember learning that from the pamphlet.
“While not everyone physically goes through solstice each time it occurs, the entire Warren is utilized and many Blooms partake in the festivities, including the claiming ceremony that celebrates newly bonded Blooms. Anything else you’d like to know? ”
I’m sure there is a ton, but I remain silent and shake my head, ready for her to move on to the next question.
The rest of the discussion is buried beneath the patter of afternoon rain. I flit through what I need to have situated with the Solstice Center before I leave for my first spring…or before my mate does. Otherwise, that’ll only spell trouble for us both.
A motorcycle thunders by, its rich rumble vibrating through me. Outside, a long, familiar silhouette moves like a deadly watercolor across the windowpanes. I swallow thickly.
“Well, I guess that’s the end of today’s lesson. If I didn’t get to your question, write it down and I’ll address it next week, once we’re back,” she says, giving Professor Briar a welcoming nod.
He’s drenched by the rain, and I can’t help wondering if he does this on purpose, knowing his tight shirt and jeans hug every muscle and lean inch of him.
He shakes the droplets from his hair, and it falls perfectly over to one side in his usual style.
I hate that I still find him attractive, but it’s not like attraction is logical.
I just happen to have rebellious eyes that like appreciating things they shouldn’t.
He takes a seat next to the projector instead of calling us to our usual circle. “The dean and I both felt it pertinent to go over shifting safety practices today.”
Flipping on the projector, he moves to the first slide and begins going through various hazards to look out for when in our bunny form.
“There are many things to be wary of in the mortal realm. Animals that see us as prey. Humans who set out miscellaneous traps, snares, or pest control contraptions. Fences—”
I avoid his gaze, focusing instead on my notes. His blood-soaked fur jumps into my mind, and in his silence, I know with a certainty I can’t explain that his eyes are on me.
Briar clears his throat and switches the slide. “Vehicles.”
An orange bus flies into my mind but I dig my nails into my thighs.
I won’t react. I refuse to. But I do finally look up.
He’s watching me, expression apologetic.
I’m angry, but there’s a heaviness settled on my ribs that’s too hard to shake.
Everything unspoken is a bulb lodged in my throat, unable to be swallowed down.
It lingers the rest of class and the entire walk back to the cottage.
“I think I’m going to nap before we go out tonight,” I say to Cherri as she opens the door. “Also, I wanted to thank you for taking care of me yesterday and being so thoughtful.”
I pull her in for a hug.
“I try.” She smiles and leads the way up the staircase, veering off toward her room. “Let me know if you need help with an outfit for tonight.”
“We both know I will.”
“Hey, you did a pretty good job in Botany today.”
I sigh. “I guess that’s true. I’ll let you know.”
“Sounds good,” she says, then shuts her door behind her.
I get in my room, toss off my shirt and skirt, and get into bed, curling the comforter around myself.
All I want is sleep. To shut my eyes and wake up to my roommates preparing to head to dinner.
But sleep never comes. Instead, my mind races, thinking about everything I’ve learned the last twenty-four hours, wondering if I’ll continue to have the magic I’ve only recently been able to access.
After thirty minutes beneath the covers, I get out of bed and go into the bathroom, inspecting the sprout still poking from the dirt in the windowsill pot.
It hasn’t grown at all since yesterday, but it’s still there, waiting expectantly for me.
Inhaling deeply, I imagine it growing like the curved stalk did in Botany. I hold out my hands and wriggle my nose.
Seven desperate attempts later, a knock at the door startles me.
“Time to go,” Roxy calls from the hallway. “Need some help getting dressed?”
“Yes,” I groan, dragging a hand over my face.
This is hopeless. How am I going to make it through the second half of training if I can only use my magic once in a while?
No. I snip the spiral before it goes further. The fact is, I grew that sprout in the windowsill and the budding stem in Botany. I have been able to do this and I can do it again.
I will do it again.
Before the self-doubt creeps back in, I rush for the door and wave Roxy inside the room. Tonight, I’m going to go out and let loose with my friends. After all, relaxing and desire are the two things left on my carefully crafted list of variables.
“Wow.” My eyes go wide, taking in Roxy’s glittering champagne dress with a sweetheart neckline displaying the inked swirls of her flourish marks. The skirt flares out, hitting below her knees, and she’s got on a matching set of slingback kitten heels. “Any requests?”
Have fun. Let loose. Get my magic. Get home.
“Something sexy,” I say, lifting my chin. “Bold.”
Sometimes the way to get out of a funk is to dress as if you aren’t in one. I want to feel alive and in control. Truth is, it’s the furthest thing from how I’d describe myself, but I need this. A night to try to unlock my magic and ignore the unwanted brand between my breasts.
She twirls a finger, so I spin.
When I stop, I’m in a black lace top with a bralette beneath. It leaves a few inches of skin exposed above the long, flowing chiffon skirt paired with lacy heeled booties.
There’s a low whistle from the hall.
“Looking great, Monroe.” Stopping in the doorway, Kendrick is in a white button-up, suspenders, and a pair of charcoal-gray pinstripe trousers.
“Aren’t you two fancy?” I scan him and then Roxy appreciatively, then look back at my outfit. “I didn’t realize dinner was going to be such a formal affair.”
Walking over to the mirror, I double check that my mate mark is hidden.
“LaFerns is the nicest restaurant in Florezca,” Cherri says, waltzing into my room.
Her dark-maroon hair is twisted atop her head with roses peppered through the strands, and she primps it in our reflection.
“I can’t wait to have their vignarola.” My brows bunch, and she continues.
“It’s a spring stew with seasonal vegetables, pancetta, lemon, mint… Mmm, I’m already drooling.”
“Sounds intriguing,” I lie, because the vegetable-to-meat ratio is the opposite of what I’m in the mood for. What I wouldn’t do for a big, juicy burger, some fries, and a tall chocolate malt.
“Well, shall we?” Kendrick asks, holding out his elbow to Roxy. Cherri does the same to me, and we follow behind them, striding through the night breeze toward The Warren.