Chapter 65
Maeve
SPRING ARRIVES SLOWLY AT COVEN Crest. It starts with a melting of snow, with a scent in the air that hints at the life trying to spring up from the frozen ground.
The air is softer, and as the frost loosens its hold on the earth, tiny green shoots begin to unfurl from the soil, reaching for the sun.
Inside the castle, the energy doesn’t feel so different.
Second semester always feels more energetic, with longer days and shorter nights. And as we leave the winter months behind, marching closer to the end of the academic year with each finished class period, excitement mounts.
Even now, as I walk through the bustling corridors, a cluster of vibrant first-years jostle past me, their voices and eyes bright as they discuss plans for the summer holiday.
The reminder makes my heart squeeze.
Soon, I’ll leave these hallways behind. I’ll don my Coven Crest robe for the last time.
Now, something about that feels different. Like the future stretching out ahead of me isn’t quite as fixed as it once was. Like there’s so much more for me to discover.
The thought—and warm tug of connection inside my chest—makes me smile even as moisture mists across my eyes.
I push through an exterior door into the Coven Crest gardens, and the air that swirls around me is tinged with warmth and smells of spring rain and the first flower blossoms of the year.
My elective for this semester is Floriculture—a flower class.
Alina convinced me to take it—along with Poppy and Lyra.
It’s the only class all four of us have been in together, and I’m so grateful Alina thought of this.
I want to soak up as much time with these girls as possible before we graduate.
With the springtime sun shining down on me, I follow the winding paths through the gardens toward the big greenhouse where we have our flower class.
In the raised beds along the paths are early blooms: pale white snowdrops, vibrant yellow crocuses, and tall-stemmed daffodils.
And beyond them, waiting for me, are three witches I’ve come to absolutely adore.
Alina, Lyra, and Poppy.
They’re lost in conversation, and it looks like Alina and Lyra are arguing about something, but it must not be anything serious, because it makes Poppy laugh.
“I’m just saying, I would be an excellent maid of honor,” Lyra is saying to Alina as I approach.
“Maybe if she wants pyrotechnics as she walks down the aisle,” I say, planting my hands on my hips and arching a brow at my favorite fire witch. “I think I’d make a much better maid of honor.”
“I agree,” Poppy pipes up, her glasses winking in the sunlight.
Lyra presses a hand to her chest, freckled forehead furrowing. “I feel betrayed. I thought we were friends.”
“Remember that time you almost set our dorm room on fire?” Alina asks, one blue brow arching pointedly.
Before Lyra can respond, I say, “Which time? I’ve lost count.”
Lyra gasps. “You’re all terrible, you know that? Worst best friends ever.”
We laugh, and I feel it again—that sensation of tightness in my chest, a feeling of something fleeting, something very near to its end.
I think they all feel it too, even if we don’t say it. We’ve made a pact to not talk about it until graduation. It makes us all too sad to think about not being together anymore.
“Um, Maeve,” Poppy says, leaning slightly to one side to glance around me. “I think that’s for you.” She points.
I turn. Students are moving out of the way, creating a path for Professor Azula’s iguana, who’s currently scurrying through the garden, a letter clutched in its mouth. And it’s headed straight for me.
When it reaches me, it stops, tipping its head up to meet my eyes. I kneel and take the letter it offers. It’s sealed with red wax, Professor Azula’s insignia pressed into it. My gaze lifts to the iguana’s again. “Thank you,” I say.
It flicks its tongue and long tail, then turns and scuffles away.
I rise to my feet and stare down at the letter. I’m still staring at it as the girls crowd around me.
“Well?” Lyra says. “Open it!”
I’ve not yet heard back from the Arcanum Collective, and now I’m suddenly afraid of what this letter might hold.
But my friends are clustered around me, Lyra bouncing on her toes, Alina’s steady presence at my back, Poppy’s smile coaxing me to be brave.
I bite my bottom lip. Then I tear through the wax and pull the letter free.
FINALLY, IT’S THE END OF the day, and I’m on my way to Professor Azula’s office. Her letter was brief and told me that she needed to speak with me, and I’ve been on edge all day, wondering what news she has.
The corridors are quieter now, with most students returning to the dormitory towers or heading to dinner in the dining hall.
My boots thump softly against the stone as I make my way toward the faculty offices.
Late-afternoon sunlight cuts through the stained glass windows, painting colorful murals across the walls and floor and illuminating dust motes drifting lazily through the air.
When I arrive at Professor Azula’s office, I find the door standing open, and the scent of sage incense drifts out. I pause and rap my knuckles against the doorframe.
“Professor?”
She looks up from her desk and—
She actually smiles when she sees me. “Miss Vandermere, please come in.”
I step into the office, and my gaze goes to the iguana, who’s napping in a patch of sunlight coming through the office window.
“Take a seat.”
After lowering my bookbag to the floor, I sink into the chair across from Professor Azula’s desk.
Her hair, which is usually pulled back into a smooth tight bun, is wrapped up on top of her head and skewered through with a hair stick.
Two red curls frame her face, and everything about her looks softer, like the coming spring has gentled her.
It’s both comforting and incredibly odd.
Professor Azula sits back in her chair and taps something lying on her desk. My gaze flicks to it, and I immediately recognize the seal: It’s from the Arcanum Collective.
My mouth goes dry, and I swallow hard.
Deep inside my chest, there’s a sudden burst of comforting warmth, and I know it’s from Severin, wherever he is in the castle.
Since our last feed, the blood bond has only continued to strengthen, like it’s still stretching out its roots, twining our two souls together. And with it, I never feel alone, because he’s always only a heartbeat away.
“You heard from the collective?” I ask.
Professor Azula nods once. “I did.” She lifts the envelope and hands it across the desk to me. “Read it.”
I take the envelope in trembling hands. It’s thick, and for a moment, I just hold it, my thumb brushing over the collective’s insignia.
This is it. This is the culmination of everything I’ve worked for this year.
“Go on, Maeve,” Professor Azula says, her voice soft and coaxing.
I take a deep breath. Then I remove the letter from the envelope and unfold it.
My eyes trace the first line. Then the second. Then the third. With each word I read, my muscles coil tighter and tighter.
“I’ve . . . been accepted,” I whisper. I almost can’t believe the words even as they leave my lips. My gaze flicks up to Professor Azula’s. “They’ve picked me for the fellowship.”
I did it.
My fingers tighten on the page, and moisture floods into my eyes.
They picked me. This fall, I’ll be at the Arcanum Collective, continuing my work with energy magic.
“I . . .” A single tear slips from my eye. “I can’t believe it.”
Professor Azula pushes to her feet and comes around the desk. “I can,” she says, and when I look up at her, she’s smiling. “Congratulations, Maeve. You deserve this. And I know you’re going to do amazing things.”
Between one moment and the next, I’m on my feet, wrapping my arms around the stoic fire professor. She lets out a startled breath, and the iguana opens one eye to look at us. But after a moment, she laughs, her arms coming around me in a warm embrace.
“Thank you,” I say. “For being my mentor this year. For believing in me.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that.” She squeezes me, then steps back, taking me by the shoulders.
“This was all you, Maeve. Even that essay.” Her lips quirk up on one side.
“I advised you against it, but you did what felt right, and the board responded well.” She smiles bigger now, her crimson eyes crinkling in the corners.
“This year, you’ve grown into your power, and I can’t wait to see what you accomplish with it. ”
I reach up to wipe my eyes, then let out a small laugh. “Hopefully I won’t let anyone down.”
“Impossible.” She releases my shoulders and moves behind her desk. Then, with an arched brow, she says, “You’ve too much spark for that.”
I laugh again. “Thank you, Professor.”
She settles behind her desk. “Well, I believe you have some friends waiting to hear the good news. And I’ve more papers to grade, so if you will . . .” She gestures to the doorway.
“Of course.” I grab my bookbag from where I dropped it beside the chair, then offer Professor Azula the letter, but she shakes her head.
“Keep it. Perhaps you can look back on it in twenty years and know it was only the beginning.”
Only the beginning.
That thought swims in my mind as I thank her once more before leaving her office and moving into the corridor.
I thought the same thing when I stepped into Coven Crest for the first time. It was the start of something new and unknown. Now it’s become familiar, a second home to me, yet my days here are rapidly running out. But now I have a new start waiting for me, a new unknown to walk boldly into.
The bond in my chest tugs, making my boots falter on the stone floor. I can feel Severin nearby, with a steadiness that no longer feels like sand slipping through my fingers. And I suddenly want nothing more than to tell him the good news.
Turning, I head down a narrow adjoining hallway, following the compass that beats in my chest.
The corridor bends, and I slow as I round the corner.
And there he is.
Severin stands at the far end of the hall, speaking with a student—a second-year wearing a school robe trimmed in yellow. His posture looks both rigid and composed, with one hand resting lightly on a large leather journal tucked beneath his arm.
Our bond stirs. His gaze lifts, finding mine.
And his eyes are red—red like poppies in the height of summer, or like the leaves that fall to the ground in the autumn.
The shadows that once hung beneath his eyes are gone, and his entire countenance has improved since he resumed feeding from me.
Seeing him like this makes that spot beneath my sternum tingle with warmth, and I know he feels it too.
He dismisses the student, who barely glances at me before turning and departing down the hallway. Then he focuses on me.
And I’m not sure I’ll ever not feel as if my breath has been stolen away every time he looks at me like that.
“Miss Vandermere.” He approaches me, stopping an arm’s length away. The late-afternoon sunlight coming through a tall window makes his dark hair gleam, and he tips his head when I don’t answer right away. “What is it?”
Instead of speaking, I reach into the pocket of my school robe and pull out the letter.
Severin takes it with a curious expression, and I watch his face change as he reads—morphing from guarded interest into blatant joy.
His eyes find mine again, and he gives me such a big smile that his fangs show. “You did it.”
I nod once, suddenly finding tears springing to my eyes again. “I did it.”
Severin’s arms are around me then, crushing me to him. I let out a startled breath—we never touch each other in public—then melt against him, my arms looping around him.
“Congratulations,” he says, his breath rustling my hair and tickling my ear. “I’m so proud of you, furtuna mea.”
I lean back slightly, just enough to press my forehead to his. I love when he calls me that—his storm. “You were the first person I wanted to tell.”
He flashes me that same big smile. “I’m honored.”
My lips tip upward, and then I press onto my toes and bring my mouth to his. It’s foolish and reckless, but for this one moment, I don’t care.
Severin brings one hand up to cradle the back of my head, deepening our kiss, stealing this moment, even if it’s just for a breath. Then he releases me, stepping back and straightening up. He tugs his vest, adjusting it, and a brief moment later, another professor walks around the corner.
Thank the goddess for vampire hearing.
Professor Silvermoon, with her long silver hair and wide dark blue eyes, regards us with something much too knowing in her gaze.
But she’s always been like that—divination professor and all.
“Miss Vandermere,” she says. “Professor D’Arques.
” She gives us a small smile, then continues down the hall, humming as she walks, the scent of lilac following her as she goes.
When she’s gone, Severin hands me the letter back. “We’ll have to celebrate,” he says.
“How about this Saturday?” I start to back away. “You know where to find me.”
A low laugh rumbles in his chest. “I’ll see you then.”
For a moment, I just look at him, admiring the way the golden light spills across his sturdy frame, how his lips curl up just slightly in the corners, his smiles much quicker to arise than they used to be.
And with a comforting warmth in my chest, I turn and leave him standing in the hallway, heading for room NT33, back to Alina, Lyra, and Poppy. To the girls who’ve helped shape me, who’ve been there for me every step of the way.
To the witches I hope to keep close for many, many years to come, no matter where life leads us.