Chapter Twenty-Eight
It was the next morning, and steam still clung to the bathroom mirror as Anabelle finished her shower.
The space smelled faintly of soap and heat, grounding in a way she desperately needed.
She leaned closer to the mirror, steadying herself as she applied her makeup: clean lines of eyeliner, a sweep of mascara, and a subtle dark-pink tint to her lips. Nothing dramatic. Just… her.
And yet, as her reflection sharpened, her thoughts betrayed her.
She still couldn’t quite believe she was sharing living quarters with four males, four impossibly large, impossibly confident males who moved through the suite like they owned it. Watching them settle in, taking up space without apology, had been… distracting. Far more than she cared to admit.
And then there was Rian.
At some point last night, he’d gone to shower in the shared bathroom and apparently forgotten his clothes.
The memory hit her full force: him stepping out with a small towel slung over his neck just about covering his chest and a towel wrapped low around his hips, skin still damp, hair dripping, completely at ease.
She remembered swallowing hard, her brain short-circuiting in a way that felt both humiliating and entirely out of her control as she watched the drops making their way down his stomach.
What made it worse? She was fairly certain he’d noticed.
Because the smirk he wore for the next two hours had been downright infuriating.
That had been her breaking point. She’d fled to her room, heart racing, cheeks warm, refusing to make eye contact with anyone.
A momentary lapse in judgment, she told herself.
Nothing more. Absolutely nothing to analyze.
She straightened, pushing the thought away.
Once dressed, she caught sight of herself again and gave a small nod of approval.
Tight, ripped black jeans that hugged her thighs.
A black off-shoulder crop top with bold white letters declaring ‘At least I’m up’ sat comfortably against her skin.
It fell just above her midriff, showing her bellybutton piercing.
She left her straight black hair loose, brushing it back over her shoulders, and finished the look with her favourite black combat boots. Practical. Comfortable. Her.
As she stepped out of the bathroom, she first heard their voices, low conversation drifting through the living area. Then, abruptly, silence. She looked up, to see all four of them were staring at her.
She blinked once. “What?”
She watched, almost fascinated, as every single one of them gulped.
“Gods, Anabelle,” Dominik muttered, voice rougher than usual.
“You look...” Rian started, then stopped himself.
Joshua didn’t say anything at all. He just stared.
Cameron, bless him, recovered first. He crossed the room, picked up her bag like this was the most normal thing in the world, and said smoothly, “Don’t mind them. You look great. Let’s go before you’re late.”
She turned toward the door, but not before she caught Rian’s quiet mutter under his breath.
“Way too much skin. Gods above, I’ll be fixing myself all day.”
Her lips curved into a slow, satisfied smirk.
She followed Cameron out, boots hitting the floor with confidence, heart racing but this time, for reasons she absolutely refused to unpack.
???
The classroom was bigger than Anabelle had expected.
She hovered right near the entrance, looking in: Rows of tiered seating curved gently toward the front, already dotted with students, around thirty of them, give or take.
Some sat alone, others in quiet clusters, murmuring to one another.
The air carried a low hum of anticipation, the kind that always came before something important.
She checked the time again out of habit.
Five minutes early. She almost laughed under her breath. That was a first.
She stepped fully inside, Rian a steady presence just behind her, and scanned the room for an empty seat. Her pulse ticked up, not from nerves exactly, but from the strange awareness that everyone here knew things she didn’t. Lived in a world she’d only just learned existed.
“Hey! We saved you a seat!” The voice cut through the noise, bright and familiar.
She looked up and spotted Polly and Agatha a few rows in, right in the middle of the room. Both were waving enthusiastically, Polly leaning halfway into the aisle as if afraid Anabelle might miss them.
She took a breath which might have loosened something like relief in her chest and headed their way.
Rian slid into the seat on her left without a word, posture relaxed but alert, while Anabelle took the seat Polly had saved. Polly dropped into the chair on her right with a grin that bordered on triumphant.
“I was worried you wouldn’t come,” Polly whispered.
“I didn’t know where anything was,” Anabelle murmured back honestly.
Agatha leaned over Polly’s shoulder. “That’s everyone on their first day. Most of us arrive a few days before classes start and...”
They were just about to say more when the room changed. Not gradually, instantly.
A tall woman strode in through the front doors, her presence commanding without effort.
She had dark hair pulled back neatly, sharp features softened by calm, intelligent eyes.
There was something about her that felt paradoxical, stern yet kind, like someone you could approach for help but absolutely wouldn’t dare test.
The moment her heels clicked against the floor, the room fell silent. She didn’t rush. She didn’t need to. “Welcome,” she said, her voice clear and steady, carrying easily through the space. “To your first class of Casters and Ether Studies.”
Anabelle straightened instinctively.
“My name is Liora Marris,” the woman continued, pacing slowly along the front of the room. “I will be your tutor for this module, as well as several others over the course of the next three weeks.”
Her gaze swept across the students, not unkind, but assessing.
“I urge you to pay attention and study well,” Liora said calmly. “There will be no repeats of the examinations.”
A beat.
“You are all here because you are currently under Observation Status.” She gestured subtly toward the back of the room.
“At the rear of each class, you will find a monitor. They are here to take note not only of your attendance, but your progress and your interactions. Their reports go directly to the council.”
Anabelle fought the urge to cringe. Gods. This was serious.
“So,” Liora said, clasping her hands loosely in front of her. “Please bear that in mind before you speak.”
She paused, eyes scanning the room again. “Any questions?”
Silence.
“No?” A faint smile touched her lips. “Perfect. Let’s begin.”
Anabelle exhaled slowly.
“Casters,” Liora said, turning to the board, “as you should know by now, are the byproduct of a union between a human and one of the five factions. No casters are ever produced from a mate-bond.”
Anabelle frowned slightly, brow furrowing.
“Can anyone tell me why that is?”
A girl toward the back raised her hand. “Because any offspring from a matebond that includes humans results in one of the five factions.”
Liora’s brows lifted. “Correct.”
She inclined her head toward the girl before continuing.
“You’ll learn more about mate-bonds and how they affect our community next week.
For now, understand this....The manipulation of ether, is the balance the gods allowed us, a bridge, if you will.
The only power granted to an offspring born outside a mate-bond with a human. ”
She paused, letting the words settle.
Anabelle’s pen hovered over her notebook. This wasn’t just theory. This was about her.
Liora didn’t miss a beat.
“Which leads us to ether itself,” she continued, turning slightly so she could face the room again. “Ether is energy. We are all made of it. It exists in everything that surrounds us.”
She spoke calmly, steadily, as if what she was explaining were the most natural thing in the world.
“When we look at science, at how the world functions, we learn that everything is composed of atoms. Everything carries resonance. Atoms themselves are made of protons, electrons, and neutrons. Each carries a charge: positive, neutral, and negative. At their core, they are energy.”
As she spoke, she handed a thick stack of papers to a boy seated in the front row. He took one automatically, eyes widening slightly at the sheer volume, before passing the rest down the line. The soft rustle of pages filled the room.
“Humans,” Liora continued, unbothered, “have long believed that an energy field exists around them. Some call them auras. Others believe, correctly, that we are composed entirely of energy. Both interpretations are true.”
Anabelle stared down at the packet as it landed on her desk. It was heavy. Dense. Diagrams, formulas, symbols she barely recognized.
“However,” Liora said, her tone sharpening just a fraction, “there are different kinds of energy. Internal energy, and external energy. They are fundamentally the same, except for one key distinction.”
She lifted a finger.
“They vibrate at different frequencies.”
The room was silent now. No whispering. No shifting in seats.
“For those of you who work best in scientific terms,” Liora went on, “the simplified explanation is this: when you were conceived, your human parent provided your human essence, your blood, your mortality, your physical limits. But your supernatural parent’s DNA altered that blueprint.”
Anabelle’s pulse picked up.
“It allowed you to receive a gene that enables the manipulation of external energy.”
Liora paced slowly as she spoke, heels tapping softly against the floor.