Chapter 7
Sienna
Headmaster Loreander takes a long, winding route through the castle to reach a rotunda within the academy’s tallest tower.
By the time we arrive, the aches and bruises of the battlefield have hit in full force, each one a reminder of my inadequacy as a shifter.
Even that vampire knew I wasn’t healing like shifters should.
The headmaster knows too, undoubtedly, meaning that my fate is sealed.
Why would he ever allow a broken shifter like me into this prestigious academy?
I bite the inside of my cheek as I consider the reality that if a shifter pack won’t accept me .
. . a family of vampires might. It’s not the life I’ve envisioned, but would a blood-only diet be so bad if it comes with a loving, supporting family?
I can still become a vampire without taking a mate, right?
Or will the family’s matriarch force me to take a mate as a condition of joining their bloodline?
Gods, I can’t believe I’m considering it.
I’m more desperate than I thought if dying is starting to look appealing.
Loreander remains silent as we enter the rotunda.
At first, all I feel is the heat. Cut into the center of the floor sits a fire pit as wide as I am tall, the flames within burning deep violet.
They flicker as though in greeting, crackling embers popping into the air and quickly turning to ash.
Its reflection sparkles off a stained glass ceiling, the image curving the entire length of the room.
On one end, a fiery orange sunrise kisses the horizon before melting into a royal blue afternoon at the highest peak, then plunging into the dark depths of midnight on the opposite side.
Stone arches along the perimeter open to the sky, but the harsh winter frost is magically sealed away.
That, or the fire burns hot enough to tell the cold to fuck right off.
“You must think the trials unnecessarily cruel,” Loreander says suddenly, his pupils cut into sharp diamonds.
Flowing white locks threaded with amber strands graze his thighs as he stops beside me, the bronze scales dotting his complexion nearly blending in with his skin.
Even in human form, he’s beautiful to behold.
I’ve never seen another dragon, not even in sketches, so I silently appraise him as he stares into the fire.
“Do you know why you weren’t admitted into the academy?” he asks.
My pride bristles. “Because the pack Alphas hate me.” I’m under no illusion about the generosity of the pack leaders on today’s judging panel.
Alistair Dire made it through after killing that wolf shifter on the mountain, and Revyn—well, I don’t know why he was accepted.
The bastard doesn’t even want to enroll at Heartsflame. He’s only here because of me.
“They misunderstand what you are,” the headmaster clarifies, tilting his head and peering at me from the corner of his eye.
“Or they believe that you are too dangerous to be near their children and heirs.” He chuckles and shakes his head.
“But the only danger within the academy comes from the competitive nature of mating, and if no one wishes to mate with you . . .” A small smile curves on his rosy lips.
“Then what harm could there be in a lone wolf frolicking through our halls?”
The harm comes from Revyn marking his territory, or worse—claiming it. The scars on my neck prickle as I cross my arms and pull them tight against my chest. “I already have two offers for mating. That’s grounds for admittance. Besides, Revyn was accepted, and he’s more dangerous than I am.”
Quick to turn to violence when the outcome favors him—and even quicker to laugh at the bloodshed.
If that makes a viable mating candidate, then we’re all doomed, especially the poor bastard who actually mates with him.
In another life, that would have been me.
Without a pack, I’m the perfect choice for his mate.
I force myself to breathe through the heartache. “If anyone should have been denied, it’s him.”
“Yes, well . . .” A sound like cracking rock catches in the dragon’s throat. “His loyalty to you is admirable. There are many who will try to sway him to mate.” The edges of his eyes crinkle in a smile, making him appear his age. How old is he? A thousand years? Two? How long do dragons live?
I scan his face for mating marks but find none. All shifters receive a mark upon completing their mating bonds, and a dragon shouldn’t be an exception, no matter how powerful they are.
“I do not have a mate,” he says slowly, his smile fading. “But that is not by choice. You have a choice here, Sienna. I am giving you one where the others would not.”
My heart races. “I’m not mating with Revyn.”
“I believe you already have.” The headmaster’s eyes crinkle in amusement.
Heat rises beneath my skin, but I don’t tear my gaze away.
I’m not ashamed or embarrassed of my history with Revyn, but I hadn’t expected it to become a topic of conversation, let alone the butt of a joke.
“I’m not bonding with him,” I clarify. “We can’t give each other what we want.
Someone will have to compromise, and . . .”
We’re both too stubborn for that.
The headmaster lifts a brow. “So if circumstances were different or you had another option, you would take a mate?”
I swallow a protest sitting on the tip of my tongue.
I need to play the academy’s game, or I’ll never have the opportunity to join a pack of my choosing.
“If our circumstances were different, I would mate with Revyn, yes. But he won’t change his mind about living in the wilds, and I won’t change mine.
We can’t make each other happy, so there’s no point in trying.
” I narrow my gaze at the headmaster. “Giving hope to the idea that Revyn and I could work things out is cruel, old man.”
I deserve more than Revyn is willing to give me.
The mantra sticks, like it always does, somewhere between my heart and my throat, making it impossible to swallow.
The headmaster hums thoughtfully in my silence. “You could always bond with another. There are dozens of unmated students at the academy, some of whom you may enjoy more than your current mate. The Navarro line is certainly interested, and then there are the Dire wolves—”
Oh, hells no.
“The day I take a Dire wolf as my mate is the day I die,” I snarl, unable to stop the outburst. Out of all the packs, theirs is the one I least want to join.
Rather than stomp their Alpha’s name in the dirt in front of the man responsible for my fate, however, I force myself to smile.
“The Navarro vampire is certainly . . . persistent.”
“One of his bloodline’s better qualities,” Loreander murmurs vaguely. “Regardless, you have a very important choice to make, Sienna Ashburn.”
My breath catches at hearing my family name said aloud.
Any pack decimated as ruthlessly as mine becomes a taboo subject within the shifter community.
By all accounts, I shouldn’t be alive, let alone acknowledged for my origins.
Shifter custom dictates that a pack who can’t protect its own deserves its ruin, and any shifter who doesn’t perish alongside their kin is disloyal to their Alpha and branded a traitor.
No matter the outcome of my pack’s massacre, I’m a disgrace for existing both within and without them.
Sometimes, I wish I had died that night.
Then no one would ever call me wild for daring to exist in the space I’ve been given.
No one would try to slit my throat in my sleep or use my blood on their hands as leverage to rise the ranks of pack leadership.
I wouldn’t be targeted or tracked, beaten or abused.
I’d be free from all the bullshit the alphas spew about the wild wolf they created—my bloodline deemed too weak to be accepted into another pack, but my soul too tainted after years in the wilds for me to be allowed to live.
Explain that fucking irony.
Extending his hand, the headmaster takes mine and squeezes. “You may call me Headmaster, Professor, or Loreander. I’ll have your advisor show you to your bedchambers prior to tonight’s festivities.”
Hope curls inside my chest like a fist, as painful as it is immobile. “You’re letting me stay?”
“I’m enrolling you.” Loreander’s smile glints like sharpened steel. “Welcome to Heartsflame, Sienna. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
My advisor turns out to be another shifter, although I’m not sure which kind.
He watches me down the bridge of his nose as I step past him into my new room.
We’ve barely said two words to each other since the headmaster introduced us, but I’ve caught him grinding his teeth more than once. I think his name is Henson.
I don’t bother playing nice. Crossing my arms over my chest, I purse my lips. “Look, you clearly don’t want me here. The next three years don’t have to be painful. Stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.”
A vein in his neck pulses. “You don’t belong here, wild wolf.
” He steps into the room and invades my space, baring his teeth the moment I’m close enough for him to scent.
His face blotches an ugly shade of red, and he swallows thickly.
“You even smell like the rot. Did you bring it with you?” Without waiting for an answer, he scoffs. “Of course you did. You’re tainted.”
I hate that fucking word.
“I happen to think I smell like lilacs and daisies.” Glaring, I shove him away from me. “Keep your distance or I might infect you, asshole.”
His eyes flash bright blue, signaling his rising power, although I’m not sure what to expect.
“It’s not me you need to worry about. I can’t touch you.
” To emphasize this, Henson holds both his hands out in front of him to put a barrier between us.
The shiny silver pin on his blazer denotes his title as staff.
Guess they can’t fraternize with students, violently or otherwise.
“And anyone with half a brain won’t want to.
But I saw that other wild one during the trials.
The male.” His teeth glint menacingly. “I wonder if he’ll still find you attractive when he’s surrounded by other shifters.
My bet’s on him abandoning you the second someone lands in his lap tonight. ”
Ignoring the obvious jab, I fish for information. “What’s happening tonight?” Maybe Henson will do his actual job and advise me.
It takes him a second to respond, like he’s warring between his duty and his inherent hatred for me. “Opening night. Each dorm celebrates their own way, but shifters have a bonfire and a midnight run. Or swim, or fly, or whatever.”
The unspoken hierarchy of shifterkind clearly runs amok within the walls of Heartsflame.
“That’s it? They go for a run?” It’s a little anticlimactic after fighting to the death in the entrance trials.
Henson pushes his wire frames up his pointed nose.
Messy blond hair frames his face, and if it weren’t for his piss-poor attitude, he’d be attractive enough to find his own mate.
I bet that’s why he’s on staff; he didn’t find a mate within his three years attending as a student and decided that he needed an extended stay.
I’d feel sorry for him if he wasn’t such an asshole.
“It’s not like they’re going for a moonlit stroll.” He looks at me like I’m stupid. “Don’t you know anything about your own species?”
I clench my jaw. “Enlighten me, advisor. What do the wolves do?”
“What they always do.” Exhaling slowly, he stares past me to the arched window overlooking the academy grounds. We’re a few stories up and have a gorgeous view of the snow-blanketed hills leading to a distant mountain range. It might even be the Dire pack’s mountain.
My chest tightens as I picture Alistair Dire in the snow, his glowing eyes burning into my soul.
If he finds me tonight, he’ll kill me. We aren’t officially students until classes begin tomorrow, which means that anyone who dies tonight is taken off this year’s roster.
All lives are fair game until the academy’s magic binds us to its rules, forbidding students from killing each other.
A half-moon peeks out from behind a dense cloud before Henson completes his thought. His eyes meet mine, flinty and cold as ice. “They compete for a mate.”