CHAPTER 32
Aelys
Classes resume today, but most of the students still seem shaken by Jones's death. The professors are restless, O'Connor has dark circles under his eyes that betray his inability to sleep, as if he knows the Dark Mage's plans are taking a new turn.
I absentmindedly bite into my pain au chocolat, blinking as I snap back to reality. I take a sip of my tea, completely ignoring my friends' conversation as my eyes scan the wizarding table before settling on three boys sitting at its far end.
Payne talks loudly about a girl he slept with for everyone around him to hear, while Clayton smirks disgustingly, listening intently to his friend with perverse interest.
And then there's Tom.
His blue eyes look dull, empty, fixed on his coffee cup as he seems lost in thought. I don't know if I should talk to him. No matter what happened between us, he's still my friend and brother-in-law.
I notice Mattheo searching for what caught my eye, he huffs in annoyance when his eyes land on his little brother. My eyes return to his and I frown.
“What?”
He just shrugs and I sigh. I love his jealous side, but sometimes he overreacts. However, I don't have the energy to argue with him today.
“Have you two spoken?” I whisper before taking another bite of my pain au chocolat.
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Every time I tried, those two assholes were there and refused to leave us alone,” he growls.
My gaze falls back on Tom, but this time our eyes meet because he was already looking at me.
I frown and tilt my head toward Mattheo in a silent question.
He rolls his eyes and runs his tongue down the inside of his cheek, looking down at his coffee.
I turn my attention back to my fiancé, who is looking at me intensely, and I smile softly.
“Maybe you should ask him to come to our dorm. He'll be alone and you can talk in peace.”
He sighs and nods, knowing it's the best option since he can't have a conversation with his brother while Payne and Clayton are here.
He looks at Tom, and I notice how the young Rigast is tensing up, probably because Mattheo is communicating with him telepathically.
He looks at his older brother and nods curtly before standing up, clicking his tongue, which makes Payne and Clayton stand up as well, like perfect soldiers, before they leave the main hall.
“That was weird,” I mutter, frowning.
Matt nods, frowning as well. Tom seems to be some sort of leader to them, and I know my fiancé doesn't like that at all because I don't like it either.
They're disciples, that fact was established right away, but disciples are supposed to follow the orders of the Dark Mage and Mattheo alone.
He's the future Master and his father's right-hand man.
In Darkvis' absence, Mattheo is the one to lead.
The fact that Payne and Clayton act as if Tom is their master is disconcerting and disturbing. I really hope Tom doesn't have any nefarious plans to steal his brother's inheritance. If he does, it will only complicate things, and we don't need that.
I sit on the bed with my back against the headboard, a book in hand, but my eyes focus on my fiancé who is pacing back and forth in our dormitory.
The day has been terribly long and filled with glares in our direction and whispers about us.
Mostly from fairies, but also wizards and shifters.
They all talked about our marriage and its role in the war.
After our engagement announcement, the gossip quickly died down, but since Jones's death, it's all started up again. No one accuses us personally, but they still accuse us of being filthy followers of the Dark Mage who will end up killing them all one day.
We're not the only ones being targeted. It's all wizarding and shifter students who come from disciple families. People simply accuse Mattheo and me of being their bosses while we're at the Academy.
The worst part is, they're right. We're disciples, and so are many of the students they point fingers at. We also know we'll have to fight them one day, it will be a bloodbath, because that moment will mark the end of the war, leaving one side standing: Darkvis’s or O'Connor’s.
It's obvious that the students belonging to O'Connor's camp don't know any black magic spells, but we, the disciples or children of disciples, do. Our families raised us with black magic, we know how to use it both in combat and in everyday life, and we are really good at it.
It's in our blood.
Besides, I know that once we have to fight our classmates, we won't hesitate.
After all, in times of war, everyone does whatever it takes to survive, and that's exactly what we're going to do.
We were raised for this, to thrive in the dark, and there's no way we're getting killed fighting them.
I know I intend to do everything I can to stay alive with Mattheo and all our friends by my side.
They're my family, and I'm going to protect them, no matter what.
Whatever it costs me.
A knock at the door pulls me from my thoughts, and my eyes follow my fiancé as he walks over to the door and opens it.
Tom enters the dormitory, his posture rigid and his jaw set.
His eyes, devoid of emotion, pause on me before quickly turning away to his brother.
Mattheo closes the door and locks it before activating a spell that will prevent prying ears from hearing anything.
He crosses his arms over his chest, his face hardening as he looks at his brother.
“Why did Payne and Clayton become disciples without my knowledge?” He growls.
Tom puts his hands in his pockets and lifts his chin, silently challenging his elder, a devilish smirk on his lips.
“They came to me, begging me to let them join the winning side of the war,” he begins. “So that's what I did. I took them to meet our father, they proved themselves worthy of the Trace by fulfilling the tasks he assigned them.”
Mattheo chuckles venomously, rolling his eyes. His jaw tightens in anger, he takes a step toward his brother, fists clenched at his sides. I tense and narrow my eyes, preparing to separate them if necessary.
“And tell me, brother, why would they go to you when everyone knows that I am the oldest and the future Master,” he spits.
Tom's smirk disappears and his jaw tightens. His eyes darken and he glares at his brother, disdain dripping from his voice as he replies, “Well, it's good to know you remember, brother.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Mattheo grunts through gritted teeth, his eyes narrowing on Tom's face.
The younger boy shrugs nonchalantly and brings his face closer to Mattheo's, their noses almost touching. I stand up, knowing that a fight is likely to break out between them.
At least now I have my shapeshifting strength to help me if I have to intervene.
‘Angel, no. I don't want you to get hurt again, so rest your pretty ass on the bed.’ Mattheo's voice growls in my mind and I nod subtly before obeying him.
“Ever since you've been with her, you've been neglecting your role as our future Master, brother,” Tom spits venomously. “You're Father's right-hand man, and yet you're not fulfilling your role like you used to. Talk about leadership!” He laughs darkly.
As soon as the words leave his lips, Mattheo's fist connects with his jaw. Tom recoils with a grunt, his hand moving to touch the aching spot. Mattheo doesn't wait for him to react before punching him again, this time on the nose.
Tom's eyes fill with tears in shock, but he quickly recovers and lands a punch on Mattheo's right eye.
He grunts in pain, and the fight intensifies as they fall to the ground.
At first, Mattheo is on top of his brother, throwing punch after punch, but Tom is able to turn them around and does the same, hitting Mattheo repeatedly.
This goes on for a while, and I just sit there, looking at the now-bloody boys with a desperate expression.
I decide that's enough and exhale before standing up—disobeying my fiancé in the process—and separating them by grabbing Mattheo's sweatshirt, using my shapeshifting strength.
I pull him back and make him let go of his brother.
They stare at each other for a few seconds, their breathing erratic, sitting on the floor, before Tom wipes the blood from under his nose with the back of his hand.
“It's not over,” he growls.
He jumps to his feet and storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. I sigh and walk over to Mattheo, waiting for him to get up.
I take his bloody hands in mine and lead us into the bathroom.
I point at the counter with a stern look, he sits obediently, a sheepish expression crossing his features.
I grab a clean towel and disinfectant for his cuts and knuckles.
I wet the towel and start by cleaning the blood from his face, being careful not to press too hard on the bruises that are already forming.
I then move on to cleaning his knuckles, again being careful not to hurt him.
I toss the towel into the dirty laundry basket now located in the bathroom, when I’m done and grab some sterile gauze to disinfect the cuts. He doesn't flinch once as I apply it, his chocolate brown eyes watching me intently.
I take the jar of magical herbal cream and spread it over the various bruises and cuts on his face. Everything is healing slowly but surely, so I turn my attention to his bruised knuckles and repeat the process, letting the cream close his wounds.
Once finished, I sigh and set the jar of cream back on the counter, my thumb gently rubbing his now-healed knuckles as my brow furrows as I lose myself in thought. His free hand rests on my cheek, forcing me out of my mind and toward him.
“I'm sorry, darling.”
I shake my head and lean down to press my lips to his. He sighs against my lips and his hand moves to the back of my head to deepen the kiss. We pull apart and I rest my forehead against his, closing my eyes.
I'm used to it now. Mattheo has trouble holding back his anger and often gets into fights. I've bandaged his wounds more times than I can count.
“I think Tom is up to something, Matt,” I whisper.
I feel him nod gently and he sighs again as he rests his hand on my cheek and strokes my skin with his thumb.
“I think so too,” he mumbles. “We'll find out what, angel, don't worry.”
I nod, he steps down from the counter and engulfs me in a hug, holding me tight against his body. Even though I know I'm safe in his arms, I can't help but feel like things aren't going to be okay.