Chapter 9
Ifind myself walking behind two shifter girls, checking my schedule and hoping I have another class lined up to distract me from all this shit.
The girls are rushing, but they seem to be in high spirits. “He’s actually making me look forward to class,” one of them says. The other just lets out a giggle and keeps marching.
It makes me roll my eyes, when I realize they’re talking about Bane. He was all students could focus on before Lorcan’s class as well. From what I could gather, they seem to be able to sense that he’s an alpha, but it’s not that which fascinates them. It’s the fact that he’s an alpha without a pack, which admittedly is an unusual thing to be. I’d just think it would be a red flag for them.
I keep walking, trying my hardest not to let myself think about the guy.
I fail.
Not just because of the eyes — the magic of which I find fascinating, however begrudgingly. While this wasn’t something I was aware of at the moment, he seems to be more opaque to me than most people, even the Originals. I mean, he’s obviously an arrogant, self-centered asshole.
But normally, I don’t just get the sense of what people are. I get the sense of why they are what they are as well.
I watch the girls dart into a classroom to our left, and I’m not just feeling sorry for them, I’m feeling sorry for all the girls with enough damage to swoon over that guy.
Still, when I move to pass the classroom, I just can’t resist the urge.
I walk up to the door that they’ve left slightly ajar, leaning a little forward until the room — at least the central part of it — comes into view. It’s one of the gyms that I’m peering into. The class seems to be in full swing, senior students in both human and shifted forms running some tactical simulation.
It does not look harmless.
Where’s the professor, I think when I don’t spot him anywhere near them.
I angle my head a little to the right. My eyebrows shoot up when I spot him leaning against a desk all the way on the other side, talking on the phone without even trying to keep an eye out on the kids.
To make it even worse, I’m pretty sure it’s a business call that he’s on. With a straight face and an air of authority, he’s giving orders to the person on the other side of the line.
I frown.
Then I spot a movement from him, as if he’s about to crane his neck to look in my direction, and I freeze.
I move out of view and start turning on my heel to get away, when I hear a panicked murmur.
I stop and go back to peering into the gym to search for the source of commotion, my eyes finally landing on one of the male students producing choked-up sounds, standing surrounded by colleagues with his hands wrapped around a throat that’s too thick to be human.
Blood curdles in my veins when I realize he seems to be in the middle of an unsuccessful shift, which can be life-threatening.
Just as I’m about to barge into the gym, I watch Bane approach the group, its members letting him through. Pressing his head against his shoulder to stay on the phone, he pries the student’s hands away, grabs him by the neck and slams a fist straight into his windpipe.
The next thing I hear are violent gasps for air and breaths of relief.
As if nothing happened, Bane turns on his heel and starts walking back to his desk, taking his phone in his hand again.
“Um, Professor,” one of the other students starts insecurely. He waits for Bane to stop, turn around and raise his eyebrows at him to proceed. “Should we take him to the hospital or something?”
Bane shrugs. “It’s all the same to me.”
With that, he goes back to his conversation, moving for the desk again as the students choose to just obediently go back to training.
For a second, I remain standing there, surprise and disgust twisting my face as I watch him slow down. Then there it is again, that feeling that he’s about to spot me, and I tear myself away from the door and get moving, my eyebrows pulled down and my mind buzzing with impressions.
Thank gods I won’t be forced to suffer through any classes with that guy. It would’ve potentially been the literal death of me.
***
I’m no less grumpy when I find myself back in the Entrance Hall and decide to finally grab something to eat. Still feeling the burn of embarrassment from Lorcan’s class, I try to avoid catching anyone’s glance as I walk through the intricately carved archway and into the buzzing cafeteria. It’s a hall large enough to accommodate hundreds of students, some waiting in line at the serving counters stretching from my left, some already sitting around countless tables placed along the three central soda fountains.
I am famished, so I start piling all the delicious food onto my plate. Just as I’ve filled it up, I catch a lanky shifter looking at my plate with a smirk. I forgot, we fat people are never really allowed to be hungry. Or even eat, for that matter. We should subsist solely on sunshine and willpower until everyone else decides we’re skinny enough. Right.
Since I’m really not in the mood for judgy assholes right now, I lock eyes with him and shove another breakfast burger onto my plate with a smile. I know that the look in my eyes says continue and perish, so he quickly looks away. I shake it off, and go to sit at one of the few empty tables to the right, sunlight slanting through the high windows.
My stomach is grumbling, but now that the pile of food is in front of me, I can’t seem to bring myself to start eating it.
What should I do? How on earth am I supposed to pass the first-term exam?
I turn to look out the window, onto the serene landscape that is the castle grounds, the faint but still warm autumn sunlight brushing the grass, the trees, the statues.
That Lexarcanum book did what it did and there was that strange voice inside my head, but today’s class has only made it clearer to me how absurd this all is.
“Mind if I join you?” I hear a familiar voice to my right.
My eyes snap in its direction and I see Serra standing next to my table, leaning on her cane. What the hell does she want? The look she’s throwing me is not hostile, but it is weird.
“Of course,” I say, gesturing for her to take a seat.
She does, trying to mask the pain by gritting her teeth as she lowers herself into the chair.
Then she locks eyes with me again. “I apologize for my behavior last night,” she says simply. “But you have to understand, it came as sort of a shock, learning you were one of us.”
I frown. “Unpleasant surprise, for sure.”
“Not the fact of your bloodline,” she replies with a shake of her head. “I’ve never had anything against you, Anna.” She pauses before she asks, “Do you mind if I call you that?”
It takes me by surprise, but I nod. I wouldn’t mind seeing what her agenda is here.
“It’s all everyone in the Lounge can seem to talk about this morning,” she continues as she throws a glance around the cafeteria. Then she turns her eyes back onto me. “How none of us figured it out earlier. I mean, Lorcan has known your scent for years now, and I myself can’t count how many times I’ve used Sight in your presence. For neither one of us to register you weren’t a Scion…”
Ah, so she’s come to check out the circus freak. I let out a scoff. “You jumped straight to thinking I’d been hiding it.”
She shakes her head. “Nevermind that. What I can’t stop thinking about now…” She pauses, making me want to know what she’ll say next. “Is how disoriented and possibly even terrifying this all must be for you.”
I have to fight not to laugh, that’s how much I do not believe her. “I’m fine, thanks.”
She frowns at me. “You know,” she starts hesitantly, “it wouldn’t be such a bad thing, in your situation, to have a professor on your side. Do you maybe have any questions for me?”
“Yes, I do.” I might as well get something out of this sudden interest of hers. “Could you grant me access to the Restricted Section for one more day?”
Her eyebrows shoot up. “What would you want that for?”
I let out a scoff. “You’re acting as if that Lexarcanum book chose me. Is it really so strange that I’d want to take another look at it?”
“I guess not,” she says pensively. “But you’re in a sort of precarious position right now, so I’d suggest you wait a bit with a request like that.”
“If I’m in such a precarious position,” I start, fighting not to lose my cool, “why don’t you just forget about my being a student here and give me my old job back?”
She looks at me as if I’m being thick. But it’s with softness in her voice that she says, “You know the law won’t allow us to just ‘forget about your being a student here.’” She pauses. “But if you’d be willing to go back to your old job part-time, I’d see what I can do.”
I stay silent for a second, observing her as my eyes narrow in suspicion. “Why would you do that? Why did you come to sit with me in the first place?”
To my surprise, she turns to watch the students buzz around, her voice turning pensive as she says, “I’ve known I was a fae all my life, Anna.” Her lips curl into a sad smile. “I was born into a noble family who’d been part of the House of Ydril for centuries. I had all the resources a person could ever wish for — a governess, a private tutor, my own library. I had the drive as well.”
She turns her eyes back onto me, the smile disappearing. “But I was a sickly child who at the age of twenty one found herself among Originals who were all more powerful than her. Not as well-meaning as I was naive enough to assume they were. Suffice to say, they made my life miserable.” She pauses for a second. “Is it really that odd for me to see myself in you, to want to help you the way I wanted someone to help me when I was suffering?”
It renders me speechless for a second, her little confession. The intimacy of it makes me squirm a little, but I give my best not to show it. “This is not suffering for me, Professor Naehorn,” I say gently.
“Serra,” she corrects me with a smile.
“Serra,” I say. “It’s just a very frustrating thing, when everyone expects you to do things you simply can’t do.”
She squints at me, this funny little smile dancing on her lips. “And you’re so sure you can’t do them?”
“Well,” I say with determination, “the fact is that I went to a Lycanology class today, and everyone there already has powers except for me.”
“So you’re not feeling your animal awaken inside you?” she asks.
The memory of that strange yet familiar voice flashes through my mind. But I choose not to answer the question. “It’s kind of hard for me to believe that this would be happening to a twenty-nine-year-old,” I reply with a smile.
She shrugs. “Stranger things have happened.”
I let out a laugh and glance around to hide the look of hopelessness in my eyes. “I’ve been told to get special classes. But I don’t think Professor MacArthur has my education in mind, more my further embarrassment.”
“Special classes?” she echoes, still frowning. Then her face lights up. “Sure, as Head of your House, he’ll be the one to set them up, but you won’t be training with Professor MacArthur, silly.”
I squint at her. “No?”
“No,” she says with a laugh, making me breathe a sigh of relief and, all of a sudden, feel all my hopelessness disperse. “You’ll be training with Professor Bane.”