Chapter 2
ONE WEEK LATER
S erath was dead.
I’d lost count of how often that thought stopped me in my tracks.
But if I closed my eyes and pretended hard, then I could imagine him here with me, standing behind me, the heat of his body brushing mine.
Sometimes I’d even feel the weight of his hands on my shoulders.
And in that moment before waking, when the world was soft, fuzzy, and unreal, his gruff, rumbling voice would tease my senses.
But reality always seeped in, and the tiny voice inside me that refused to allow me to succumb to delusion would remind me of the bitter truth.
Serath was dead.
He was gone.
But I was here, and I couldn’t stop. I couldn’t curl up and die. I didn’t have the luxury of crawling into the bosom of my grief and staying there. So I ate, and walked, and talked. Trained and breathed, all the while carrying an empty place inside me where my heart had once nestled.
Serath was gone, and I would never be whole again.
The only thing that kept me going was Romi. My brother was alive. I’d save him. I’d use everything that Serath had taught me and make him proud.
The tentative knock on my door made my teeth ache. Everything was eggshells and hushed voices. Everything was cottonwool and care, and although part of me understood that my friends were trying to help, that they cared about me, loved me even, the other part, the beast inside was enraged by it.
We were not weak.
We would not fall.
We would find Romi and kill the alpha, avenging our mate.
“Cam?” Curi called through the door. “The meeting starts in thirty minutes. We should leave.”
I closed my eyes and breathed to center myself before pulling open the door.
Curi was in full lastonflex initiate uniform, blue hair pulled back in a knot so that his brutal features were highlighted to their best advantage.
To someone who didn’t know him, he’d come across as intimidating, frightening even, but not to me.
Not when his dark eyes were brimming with concern.
My agitation ebbed. For some reason, it was impossible to stay angry around Curi.
“You good?” he asked.
No. My mate was dead, but I was still breathing. “I’m good.”
He exhaled and nodded. “We just need to get through this meeting, and then we can focus on the mission.”
They’d made us wait one week before calling for a meeting to determine what exactly had happened the night of the cadet exams.
One whole fucking week!
My blood simmered, and it took every ounce of will to soothe it. “Where are the others?”
“Headed to the main building. I volunteered to come get you.” We headed down the stairs. “Any news on Selas?”
“I spoke to my uncle last night. She’s stable thanks to the antivenom that Willowman brewed up, but she’s badly wounded. They’re not sure if and when she’ll be able to return to active duty.”
Which left Orix as the only active elite. There was only one way forward, and we’d waited a week for it to be confirmed.
This meeting was more than just about rehashing the events of the attack. This meeting was about rebuilding the only team that could take down the monster who’d ripped out my heart.
“Are you ready for this, Curi?”
“I’ve never been more ready in my life.”
Good, because if all went to plan, I wouldn’t be the only one taking the elite exam in two weeks. Curi, Sharniza, and the next Halle in line, whoever that was, would be taking it with me.
The main building was buzzing with goyles, all here to hover, to get a listen in on the proceedings that were about to take place.
Personally, I thought this meeting was a waste of time.
Everyone involved had given their statements.
The goyles who’d come to our rescue had seen what happened.
This…this was a waste of time, but it was protocol.
An informal face-to-face fact-finding exercise is what they called it, but there was nothing informal about the cloaked and hooded alchemists that crawled over campus.
They’d arrived the day after the attack, and it was now clear that they had no immediate plans to leave. Our security had been upgraded by mind readers, a precaution to ensure that any other moles were rooted out quickly.
Goyles stopped talking to look our way as we passed, then the whispers began. Curi’s grip on my hand tightened, not the grip of a lover like we’d faked the past few weeks, but of a friend loaning support in the face of controversy. Because my secret was out.
My reaction to Serath’s death on the battlefield had been witnessed by all. I’d blacked out, and the moments after were a blur, but I’d heard the accounts whispered on campus and relayed to me by a stone-faced Sharniza.
According to them, I’d torn off my clothes and gouged welts into my arms and face. I’d been incoherent. Crazed.
The actions of a grieving mate.
My secret was out, but Serath was dead, and my sire had been true to his word, reminding all that would listen that they needed me.
I was still here.
Unpunished by them but ruined by fate.
“Can’t believe they hid it all this time…”
“A mercy he’s dead?—”
A low growl rumbled up my throat, head whipping around to face the speaker.
The goyle recoiled, holding up his hands, but my beast was awake, pushing against my skin, incensed, because how fucking dare he? How fucking?—
Shadows bloomed in my path, coalescing into a familiar form. “No,” Derek said. “We not do this, Cam.”
The rage bled out of me, and my shoulders slumped. I was tired. So fucking tired.
Derek put his arm around me and drew me close. “We get through this. Together.”
I looked up into his beautiful diamond eyes filled with love, compassion, and regret, and couldn’t help but wonder what if . What if I hadn’t made Yarrow promise to keep Derek away from the cadet exams? Would it have made a difference if he’d been able to get to me?
Would Serath still be alive?
But these thoughts were redundant.
The past couldn’t be altered.
All we could do now was move forward. One moment to lean into Derek, to squeeze Curi’s hand, to draw strength, then I was standing on my own two feet, untethered, chin up as we walked past all the prying eyes and whispering mouths, up the stairs and down a long corridor to the assembly chamber.
Shar, Touron, Ginia, and Palia waited by the assembly room doors along with several other cadets who’d survived the attack. Waxen and Hawke were among them.
We exchanged nods before my attention was drawn to Orix standing by a side door, deep in conversation with a dark-haired woman. There was something familiar about her—something in the curve of her mouth and her almond-shaped eyes.
She must have felt me staring because she looked over. Her mouth turned down as she said something to Orix before breaking away from him to stride toward me.
I wasn’t sure why, but I braced myself.
“Cameron Basque, my name is Nandini Aziza. I hear you killed my son.”
My stomach went rock hard. This was Prasan’s mother. “I didn’t kill him, but I wish I had.”
Her jaw flexed. “You misunderstand me. I’m grateful to you. What he did…” She swallowed hard. “He has brought shame on our family, and I assure you that I will personally stop at nothing to uncover the full extent of his duplicity. I’m…I’m sorry for your loss.”
Serath…
I pressed my lips together because there was nothing more to say. Her son had been a murderer. He might not have struck the killing blow, but he’d orchestrated the attack that had. I was not sorry for her loss. Not one bit.
She inclined her head and slipped away through a set of side doors which led fuck knows where.
“Haven’t seen her in years,” Sharniza said, joining us.
It was odd to think that Shar could be related to Prasan, the traitor, but they were blood. Distant cousins on her sire’s side.
“The woman is married to the Stone council,” Shar continued.
“One of the few omegas to take a post outside of Arcadia’s nest. She practically lives at HQ from what I’ve heard.
Azizas value their reputation above anything else, and her mate will blame her for Prasan’s defection.
Any negative traits or fallacies are always blamed on the mother, and any triumphs are attributed to the sire. ”
I didn’t have it in me to feel sorry for her. Emotions had been running a little dry of late; the only ones that seemed to come unbidden and easy were anger or rage. They seemed to traipse about hand in hand, waiting for any small fracture in my emotional shields to seep through.
But tonight was about poise and calm. Tonight, I’d get what I needed by using logic and clean-cut argument.
“We should be called in soon,” Orix said. “Once this is over, we can focus on the mission.”
“They’ll address the elite issue?” Shar asked.
“I’ll make sure they do,” Orix said.
There were dark circles beneath his eyes. Lack of sleep had caught up to him. The loss of his team—one friend’s betrayal and another’s death…
I’d been so caught up in my own loss that I’d failed in acknowledging the pain of those around me. Grief was indeed a selfish beast.
Guilt settled heavily on my shoulders as I looked, really looked, at my friends and fellow cadets—the slump of their shoulders, the smudges beneath their eyes. The loss…so much loss.
“Any more news on Selas?” Touron asked Curi.
“Not since last night,” Curi replied. He looked like he wanted to say more but then pressed his lips together and shook his head slightly.
“What?” Touron demanded. “What aren’t you telling us?”
Curi sighed. “I’m wondering what you aren’t telling us .”
Touron’s expression shuttered. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Yeah? Well, when you figure it out, know that we’re here and…I’m pretty sure she’s allowed visitors.”
Wait, who…Selas? The look on Touron’s face was pure devastation and longing and—Oh god…Did he have a thing for Selas?
“Everyone,” Orix said. “We’re being summoned.”
There was no time to press Touron on it now because the doors to the assembly hall were swinging open.
It was time to give testimony.