Chapter 39
The Academy is buzzing. It’s on autopilot that we walk out of the first class of the year and keep strolling down the hallway leading to the Entrance Hall. Alaric and I are barely suppressing yawns, while Raven seems to be just as clear-eyed as she was before Professor Byrne showed up.
“Well, that was anti-climactic,” Alaric drawls.
“Yeah, especially after yesterday,” I reply with a smile, referring to the most spectacular Opening Ceremony ever, but my mind is on Alaric’s arm wrapped around Raven’s waist.
Warmth is spreading through my chest at the very sight of my friends’ happiness, making me wonder what it is I did to deserve this absurd amount myself.
Then I see the puzzled look on Raven’s face. “What is it, Raven?” I ask just as we start crossing the Entrance Hall.
She blinks at me. “I don’t think it’s anti-climactic. I think it’s exciting.”
“Professor Byrne’s yapping?” Alaric asks with a frown. “Really?”
“No,” she says, shaking her head. She hesitates for a second before she explains. “I’ve never been a second-year student before and the thought is… appealing.”
Alaric and I slow to a stop at practically the same moment, making her follow suit, her eyebrows shooting up at us. He comes to press a delighted kiss against her cheek and I give them their moment, but as soon as we start walking again, I turn to squeeze my friend’s hand and beam at her. “You’ll be the very best second-year student, Raven,” I tell her with conviction, “I just know it.”
“Hey,” Alaric grumbles, “what about me?”
“Meh,” I reply with an unimpressed face.
The two of us burst out laughing, Raven’s eyes darting from one to another with this warmth in her eyes.
It’s in front of the Junkyard that I throw them a wave, saying, “See you later then.”
Alaric throws me one of those “What’s this now” looks as he comes to a stop, both Raven and I following suit. “Junkyard,” he says as he gestures at it, “hello.”
I laugh, but I shake my head. “I have training with Jericho.”
“Come on,” he says, “I know you’re eager to keep working on becoming the best shifter ever, but be a sport and at least come assert your dominance in the Junkyard so we can get better spots this year.”
“Sorry, don’t want to be late.”
“Whipped much?” he teases.
I roll my eyes at him and throw Raven another wave. Then I turn on my heel and keep walking to the gym.
As if on cue, there’s the feeling that floods me only when it’s him I’m about to see — an infuriatingly delicious tugging between comforting warmth and sharp thrill.
This time, though, there’s the anxiousness as well. I told him I wanted to know as soon as he found out what Lorcan had decided — whether we’ll be getting the request for a shared room approved.
Frowning, I turn the last corner before the gym and keep walking down the hallway. I thought we’d be getting news well before we met for training.
It’s not like it doesn’t happen, I tell myself. Professors bunk with their spouses all the time and, well, this particular professor’s spouse does happen to be a student, but I’m thirty years old, I won’t be in any of his classes, and any training he’ll be doing with me will be our private business.
Besides, once I graduate, I’ll finally be taking on the role of Archivist, and our situation will be exactly the same as everyone else’s.
Still, it worries me that — as the Head of my House — Lorcan is the one we had to put in the request with.
Sure, it’s easy for Alaric to laugh, but it’s no laughing matter to either of us. I’d want to be here and work on truly mastering my shifting even if I weren’t forced to, but my man is here because of me, and even this one night we had to spend apart was not pleasant.
When he called me last night, he told me it’s supposed to get easier with time, although he didn’t sound too convinced. It was proving hard to be apart even before the bond, but now…
I come to a stop in front of the gym we had our first actual training session in, hearing an excited murmur coming from behind the closed door.
To make things more complicated, it’s only been a couple of months since that whole shitstorm Serra stirred up. We’re all doing our best to move on, but the echoes are still there, most visible in the way Jericho can’t seem to relax when it comes to the matter of, well, anyone who ever tries to get in any kind of contact with me. Letting me just walk around the Academy unaccompanied… I know for a fact it’s showing a huge effort on his behalf at respecting my autonomy and doing everything he can to keep me truly happy.
And he is. This is the happiest I’ve ever been and the happiest I believe anyone can even be.
So the least I can do is not be late. I open the door and step inside.
I stop as soon as I see my man trying to herd a bunch of first-years out of the room, while they just seem to be too eager to share their experiences after their first practical class. The contrast with that first class I witnessed him teach makes me almost let out a laugh. The kids are just as reverent around him, but instead of looking intimidated, they’re… relaxed.
When he spots me, he doesn’t stop walking, but as always, his eyes suck me in and keep me there for what seems like an eternity.
He tears them away and slows to a stop, making the students’ chatter die down even before he addresses them. “Yeah, I don’t think I hear a single question that can’t wait till next time.”
There are a few grumbles, but then they all just keep chatting as they rush to make themselves scarce, leaving their professor standing there, looking at me like prey.
As soon as the last of them walks out, he motions for me to lock the door, sending my heart racing when he starts stalking over to me. I let the pull take me to him, my lips tugging into a blissful smile.
“Novak, is it?” he demands, throwing me this super serious little squint just as he wraps his arms around my waist and tugs me close. I throw my arms around his shoulders, fighting to put on a straight face as I say, “Correct.”
He leans to whisper against my lips, his voice turning husky, “Well, if ever I saw a lost cause…”
Laughter bubbles up my throat. “Damn it,” I curse teasingly, “does that mean I won’t be getting lessons with the hot professor?” I take my hands off his shoulders. “I’ll just go fling myself off Graf Hill then,” I say as I move to get out of his arms.
Before I know it, he’s gripping the backs of my thighs, hoisting me up and getting my legs around him. “Oh you’re not going anywhere, smartass,” he growls into my ear, making my breath catch and my heart pound.
He inhales me, spins me around and then lowers himself on the edge of his desk with me straddling him. Forgetting all about training, we start losing ourselves in a kiss, when I hear his phone start ringing in his shirt pocket.
Colin. It has to be Colin.
The focus of my excitement shifting, I break the kiss and take the phone out.
“Not now, Anna—”
“Oh come on, Jericho,” I say as I get the screen in front of his face to show him who it is. “Take it. It’ll only take a second, and maybe he’s finally calling with news about the project.” I grin.
He expels a frustrated breath, but he does take the phone. Just not before he squints at me and says, “My wife sure does like spending my money.”
I shrug. “It’s like, the sole reason she agreed to marry you, so...”
He throws me a playful scowl and answers the call. “This better be important, Colin.”
I let my eyes roam his face as I listen to Colin’s faint voice from the other side of the line. I only make out an occasional couple of words, but when he says “ready to break ground,” Jericho locks eyes with me to give me a wink.
Finally. It makes me grin, when I visualize the day the shelters will open their doors, plans for the next thing already being set in motion. There’s not a lot we won’t be able to do with all that money. Then my man’s scent and his proximity start to distract me again. I start running my hands up his chest, leaning in to inhale him. He grumbles, grabbing my wrist in warning.
“Alright, thank you, Colin,” I hear him cut the conversation short.
“Thank you, Colin,” I echo on a low chuckle as he lets go of my hand and wraps his arm around my waist again. I press my lips to the delicious tip of his jaw.
It makes me frown, when I realize he’s ended the conversation, but is still looking at the phone.
I pull away a little, finding him skimming something with that super serious look on his face.
The very next moment, he’s turning the phone for me to see the email. Lorcan, in response to the shared room request. “He actually approved it?” I ask a little breathlessly.
When I look at him, I find him grinning from ear to ear. Not even trying to contain my excitement, I ball my hands into fists, grit out a squeal and then crash into his chest with my arms tightly wrapping around his shoulders.
Laughing, he squeezes me tight and starts rocking me left and right. “There’s still a problem, though,” he says, weirdly nonchalantly.
“What?” I ask as I pull away, a frown scrunching up my forehead.
He shrugs, his right hand finding its way under my shirt and starting to trace little circles on the skin of my waist. “Let’s just say I’m not too sure about the woman they’re forcing me to share the room with.”
I quirk an eyebrow at him. “Forcing, really?” I ask as I fold my arms, my lips tugging into a smile as my eyes beg to be rolled. I should’ve known. After all, it’s proving to be the man’s favorite pastime — trying to get on my nerves.
“Yeah, I mean,” he keeps going with such admirable earnestness, “she does have some redeeming qualities.”
“You sure you didn’t imagine them?” I ask with sweet innocence in my voice.
“No no.” He vigorously shakes his head, “I mean, she’s kind of a know-it-all, which is annoying, mind you, but can be useful at times.”
“Um-hum. Go on.”
“She makes a mean grilled-cheese sandwich.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“And well, she’s got this incredible ass,” he says as both his hands come to close around said ass, “the kind you just want to follow around.”
“Um-hum. But?”
Holding me tight, he leans me back, getting in my face with that smirk of his. “But I’ve just spent the last couple of months gallivanting around the world with her.” He shakes his head with a click of his tongue. “And let me tell you—”
“Yes,” I cut him off, eager to be the first one to get a stab in, “do tell me, Mister I-Take-Three-Goddamn-Hours-To-Order-A-Single-Bottle-Of—”
“Shhh.” He presses a finger to my lips. I let out a little growl, but he ignores it, a spark in his eyes. “Turns out she’s really messy. It’s like books and papers and candy wrappings everywhere you look.”
That makes me laugh. “She sounds downright awful,” I concede with a serious nod. Then I lean to whisper in his ear, “Yet I think she’ll somehow find a way to change your mind about her.” And I take a bite out of his neck, reveling in the way that makes him shudder.
He grabs me tighter, locks eyes with me and comes to whisper into my lips, “We won’t have to be apart, Anyi.” The voice makes me breathless with desire for him. “Not tonight, not ever again. Does that make you happy as much as it makes me happy?”
I close my eyes. “Not just happy, Jericho,” I tell him with a smile, “happier than I ever thought I’d be.”
I hear him groan and feel his mouth on mine, his tongue parting my lips as his hands start roaming over my body.
The very next second, we’re both freezing and opening our eyes.
There’s this faint sound of screaming drifting up to us from the hallway.
For a second, we just stay frozen like that, staring at each other with his jaw clenching and my fingers digging into his shoulders.
It’s not just the screaming that’s made my heart stop. It’s the feeling of something familiarly sickening fast approaching.
The next thing I know, Jericho is lifting me up and lowering me down, extreme focus and determination in his every movement as he gets the bag from under the desk, takes my hand and starts leading me to his nearest escape route.
My mind starts reeling. I know he only wants to protect me. That’s why he’s lugging the goddamn bag around in the first place, “just in case we ever need to disappear”.
But there’s screaming and worse, and every fiber of my being is against me just running away from it.
I can’t help stopping and making him follow suit. He doesn’t let go of my hand. He looks over his shoulder and throws me a pissed-off look that’s somehow pleading at the same time.
For a split second, we just stand there, wordlessly arguing about it.
Then, in a sickeningly fast flash, his body tenses up, he opens his mouth to say something, and the nightmares enter the gym through all the openings and cracks — both seen and unseen — to invade our bodies like the whisper of death itself.
If they could move, my eyes would round. Frozen, they just keep staring into Jericho’s.
My mind goes blank and I hear the screaming intensify just as something slams into the locked door of the gym, breaking it open.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot Serra making a wobbly trek to us, her mouth sagging and her face blank.
My mind reeling, I try to look for the answers in his eyes. How is this even possible when I dismembered her before she even managed to awaken him? How do we kill her? Does he know how sorry I am for putting him through this again?
There’s so much in his eyes as well, but the next thing I know, all the screaming dies down.
For a split second longer, I keep staring into Jericho’s eyes. Then my body gets flung into the air and slammed into the wall behind me, the grip of the nightmares keeping me pinned high above the floor.
My heart plummets when my eyes fix on Jericho, trapped just like I am, only on the wall across from me, with Serra looking up at him from down below.
I’m going to kill that fucking bitch however many times I need to.
I can’t close my eyes, but I try to summon my powers, the ones I used to dismember her the first time around.
The next thing I know, all my attention is shifting onto these strange two sounds coming from the door to my right, far from where Serra is standing.
First, the casual, confident sound of footsteps making their way to me.
Then, the equally casual, confident sound of… whistling.
My heart stops.
Then there’s the familiar, saccharine male voice saying, “Apologies for making you wait this long, my darling,” just as a man I’ve never seen before comes to a stop on the floor below me.
He looks up at me, tilting his head in this calm curiosity. He’s an unusually striking vampire — tall, pale, his raven hair slicked back and his black suit casual but immaculate.
“Although,” he continues in a slightly scolding voice, “it could be said my tardiness is your own fault.” He throws me a knowing smirk. “You seem to like ‘em handsome, and I didn’t want to disappoint.”
Those strange words Serra spoke before I killed her ring in my head. “He sure is a handsome one.” She’d already managed to awaken him at that point. That was him speaking through her.
My entire body lit up with sudden dread, I watch Baldur turn at his waist, throw a glance at Jericho and then start walking over to him.
No no no. I try to thrash, I try to shift, I try to summon my powers. I try to communicate stuff to Jericho, getting this urge to yell at him when I see the look in his eyes go from panicked to calm, filling with love.
“Ah,” Baldur drawls as he comes to a stop below him, looking up at him with his head tilted and his hands in his pockets. “Still prettier, isn’t he?”
I barely have time to process it. He takes a hand out of his pocket, flicks his wrist and the next thing I know, Jericho’s limp body is falling to the floor.
I keep staring, trying to will him into getting up. Get up, just get up and run away, please.
“Well, that oughta take care of it,” I hear Baldur say.
The words are barely getting to me. All I can focus on is his body, still lying there splayed, broken, lifeless, something deep inside me violently thrashing in an effort to stop the realization from hitting me.
“And now we can finally have a chat eye to eye,” these nagging, irrelevant, hateful words drift up to me, “Freya.”
The next moment, the thrashing inside me stops and I feel something even deeper inside me break. It leaves behind the most painful silence I’ve ever felt and shatters me into a million pieces, sending me forever falling.