Chapter 2 Rune #3
“Be careful,” Dad murmured, hugging me quickly before the three of them entered and closed the doors behind them.
I was left with the chaos demon, who didn’t stop looking at me as he smiled. “Whatever will we do with the time we have together, venom baby?”
“Wait for our exams, Havoc baby.” Flicking my gaze away from him, my gaze caught on another man that held my attention in a different but no less magnetizing way than the other two men I’d seen today had.
He stood leaning casually against the stone wall, radiating heat in every direction.
Tibby had learned to control that side effect of being a phoenix already, but not many phoenixes could.
Sunlight had kissed this man’s skin, deep bronze and golden, like the fire inside him hadn’t fully dimmed since his birth…or rebirth, for that matter.
Just because Tibby hadn’t died and came back didn’t mean other phoenixes were the same.
My Pops had died twice during Kalista’s Second War, according to Mom.
I’d always been interested in phoenixes since that was the other species I could’ve been born as.
Mom and Dad were basilisks, and I took after them.
Pops, though, was a phoenix. Tibby took after him.
Though, my family matters were far from my mind as I took this man in.
Wavy dark brown hair brushed his ears and temple, tousled in a way that made it impossible not to imagine my fingers running through it.
But it was his eyes that made my breath hitch.
They were a deep, warm, and soft brown but threaded through the irises were flecks of red embers.
Not metaphorical embers, either. Real, tiny, glowing embers danced within the brown color.
His lips curled into a smile the second we locked eyes. It was the kind of smile that told me that he’d noticed me before I noticed him and that he liked what he saw; that feeling was clearly mutual.
He started walking toward me.
And, Fates, help me because he was wearing a thin golden chain that disappeared under his shirt. It was just enough to make my thoughts stutter.
That slutty little golden chain suited him, and I wanted it between my fangs now.
He was tall. He had to be around 6’3”, and he had beautiful broad shoulders and a bulk of muscles that I couldn’t take my eyes off of.
A tattoo of a flaming feather must’ve curled over his left pec because it was slightly visible beneath his loose collar. On his right wrist, the word “trust” was crowned with a tiny star.
My heart stuttered as I saw the faint round scar near his inner arm.
It was a tourmalyke injection, something Dad had shown me on his own arm from when he was ambushed by humans in Kalista’s Second War as an attempt to throw Mom off her game.
It was one of the times Pops had died. But how did this man have that scar?
I found myself needing to know what happened to him.
He stopped a few feet from me, hands tucked into the pockets of his joggers. His firewood scent settled over me as Slater took a step closer, washing his daisies and jasmine scent over me as well.
Fates, those two smells were so good together.
“Hi.” He held out a hand to me. “Koa.”
“Rune.” I took his hand in mine, and warmth flooded me. “Nice to meet you.”
“You as well.” He smiled before Slater knocked his hand against mine and took Koa’s hand.
“Slater. I’m her soon-to-be mate. Nice to meet you.” He grinned.
“Mate?” His brows rose in surprise as his eyes searched mine for an answer.
“So he claims, but there is no matebond,” I explained, feeling my cheeks heat up. My heart lurched at my own denial, like I was denying something special.
“Ah, but there will be, venom baby. Mark my words.” He let go of Koa’s hand. “I don’t mind sharing with your other mates, though. Maybe he’s your mate, too.”
Koa choked on a breath, beating his fist on his chest before a streak of pinkish-red settled over his cheeks. “Good to meet you, Slater.”
“You too, man.” Slater grinned. “I’m sure we’re going to be brother-mates, so let’s be brothers now, huh?”
“Uh.” His eyes pleaded with me, but I wasn’t arguing with a delusional demon.
I shrugged, ever so helpfully.
He sighed and looked back at Slater. “Sure. I guess.”
“Welcome to entrance exams, applicants!” Dad’s voice boomed as the doors burst open to the auditorium. Desks and chairs were set up in rows behind him. “Come in and find a seat. I’ll explain the written portion of the exam once everyone is seated.”
The applicants flooded in. I sat in the first row, between Slater and Koa, and once everyone was in a seat, Dad clapped his hands to demand attention.
It was weird seeing him in his headmaster role, but it was also comforting in some way knowing it was my dad up there.
“This exam is to make sure you’re competent enough to become an agent. The agent coordinator of the Supernatural Council herself is here to observe the exams this year.” He gestured to Mom, who stepped forward with a stern expression.
“Do Kalista proud today,” she stated.
“The written examinations are thirty percent of your entrance exam,” Dad took back over the speech, placing a soft hand on Mom’s shoulder before she stepped back into Pops.
“It was created by some of our top performing agents, and it’s aimed at testing your intellectual capabilities, political familiarity, tactical thinking, and ethical reasoning.
As my lovely mate said, do Kalista proud. ”
For the fourth time today, my gaze caught on another pair of mesmerizing eyes belonging to a way too attractive man.
He stood at the front of the room, a few feet from Pops and Mom, humming with raw power. The air around him rippled every few seconds with tiny bursts of magic that sparked from his fingertips and dissolved into the space like glitter.
I watched as a flicker of blue light snapped off his index finger and vanished with a sizzle into the air. There was no doubt that his magic was alive and desperate to play.
And why did I want to volunteer to play?
He just stood there, staring back at me.
It took me a moment before I realized that this man had to be Drecken Grimsworn, the warlock representative on the Supernatural Council.
I’d only heard stories about him. Mom said he was one-hundred-sixty-six years old, but he looked barely over thirty.
He was slender and had the figure of a dancer.
I knew enough about him not to underestimate his looks, though. He was the most powerful warlock in Kalista. One of the most dangerous supernaturals in the world.
His hair was a storm of green curls, chopped short on one side while the other side cascaded down to his jawline.
His hair looked to belong to the earth fae.
Perhaps he has some fae blood somewhere in his line.
That was how ethereal he was. His eyes were blue, clear as the Moonfolk Ocean, and just as hard to read.
Not cold but deep as he quietly watched me.
My nostrils flared as I scented him. He smelled like old tomes and pure, undiluted magic. The kind that clung to your skin and whispered things in forgotten tongues if you were around him for too long, and I loved that. I wanted to lose myself in his magic.
Tattoos curled out from beneath his open sleeves and collar.
“Protect your energy” was scrawled along his left wrist, and I could see the outline of a full magic circle on his chest, layered with crescent moons and ancient runes from beneath the thin white fabric of his buttoned-up shirt.
I’d never wanted to rip someone’s shirt off as badly as I did his.
He even wore enchanted earrings that were small, blue, precise little magic circles.
And even though he hadn’t said a word yet, the magic kept exploding from his fingers. I wasn’t sure if he even knew he was doing it.
I couldn’t stop my lips from quirking into a small smile, and he tilted his head a fraction of an inch before his lips curved into a breathtaking smile back at me.
“Show us your intelligence and critical thinking.” Dad’s voice raised in volume as Drecken snapped his fingers and a flutter of papers rained down in a neat stack on top of each desk. “Best of luck, applicants.”
Luck had nothing to do with it when my parents had taught me the skills I needed to become an agent since I was three.
I licked one of my fangs, picked up my pen, forced my gaze from Drecken’s, and started.
Section I: Historical Analysis
Prompt: Kalista’s Second War: Identify the three big players involved and, in your opinion, the biggest outcome of the war.
That one was too easy. I’d grown up hearing retellings of that war from my parents since they’d actually fought in it. Bless the Fates for keeping them safe during that shitstorm. All of the opposing factions reported a lot of casualties.
All supernaturals were involved; even the fae helped the supernaturals, but our opposing forces were the humans and the dragons.
The dragons declared war on humans, and the humans declared war on all supernaturals.
A couple of supernatural species did side with the dragons, but the majority aligned themselves with the Supernatural Council and fought for all supernaturals.
Obviously, the peace treaties between all factions were a big deal, but in my opinion, abolishing the hierarchy was the biggest outcome of the war.
It allowed supernaturals to intermingle in ways they’d never been able to before.
For example, this academy now allows all supernaturals to attend.
Back before the hierarchy was null and void, only dragons, drakes, basilisks, and phoenixes were allowed to become agents due to their ‘apex natures’.
I wrote out my answer, outlining the big players of the war, citing the abolishment of the hierarchy as the biggest outcome of the war.
My handwriting was calm and precise, like my answers.
Moving on to the next page, magic sizzled over my hands, extending from the paper itself…no. The magic came from the ink.
Section II: Prophetic Fragment Decoding
A blurred scrawl shimmered across the page in enchanted ink.
When the wilted flower blooms fire and venomous scales cover the thorns, Fate’s threads weave between the two.
That one was easier than the ones Dad and Pops helped me practice with.
A wilted flower blooming fire obviously meant a phoenix, and venomous scales referred to a basilisk. The Fate’s thread meant a matebond, which meant it had to be a matebond prophecy between a phoenix and a basilisk.
I decoded it, flipped the page, and moved on.
Section III: Magical Logic Puzzle
A magic circle appeared, and I had to focus on reading the aura of the magical essence that was used to create it. It was a simple protection ward. There were broken runes and a fractured intention aura around it.
I tilted my head at the lack of instruction, but as agents, we wouldn’t have our hands held. I could only assume they wanted us to fix the magic circle.
I knew aura and intent, but runes weren’t as familiar to me. Ironic, considering my namesake. My strengths weren’t runes, but surely I didn’t need to know complex runes to fix this. I could’ve built protection wards in my sleep.
The outer ward was a clear ill intention. Clever, but the rune between the outer and inner ward would collapse everything with something as simple as the intent being off. That could be easily missed.
I took a deep breath and let my magical essence seep into the existing one within the magic circle and pushed a protection intent until it became more stable. Thankfully, I didn’t have to rewrite the runes or anything.
I flipped to the next section, and my brows raised at the insane hypothetical.
Section IV: Ethical Judgment Case Analysis
A hybrid child with unstable magic is being hidden in a remote village within the Bizarre. You’re dispatched with no extensive briefing. Locals are unaware. What do you do?
My pen paused as I hovered over the answer box.
Observing the situation would be best instead of a full confrontation over what were probably rumors.
Hybrids didn’t exist in Kalista, at least that I was aware of.
Though, with our magic, anything was possible, so an open-mind was required.
A supernatural was one species, taking after one of their biological parents.
Assessing the magical reserve of said hybrid rather than the species would be the first step, if the hybrid does in fact exist.
It was paramount to speak to the child first, not the parents.
There should not be any exposure or extraction.
Many firedrake babies caused more issues than any other species, and as agents, we allowed the parents to handle the situations and only stepped in if an entire village or town was at risk of being burned down.
Even then, they’re only given coping mechanisms.
A hybrid child, though unlikely, should be given the same chance as any other species. Document, observe, and move on.
Simple as that.
By the time I finished the last section of analyzing suspect behavior from transcripts, I was confident I’d answered all sections to the best of my ability.
My parents lived and breathed these topics every day. I grew up around it and had picked up a lot of knowledge along the way.
I placed my pen down and pushed the papers forward before raising my head. Half the room was still hunched over their exams, but I leaned back in my chair and thought about the way Dad used to quiz me before bed and Pops told me stories of the past.
All of it came in handy today.
Yet, I couldn’t shake the nerves in my belly from Drecken’s stare boring into me as I waited for the rest of the applicants to be finished.