Chapter Thirty-Two
The first day of week two hit her like a wall. Anabelle was already exhausted, and it wasn’t even noon.
Her morning class, Ether Structure and Mechanics, had been brutal in a quiet, relentless way.
Three solid hours of theory, diagrams, and carefully chosen words that somehow felt heavier than any physical training ever could.
Time had stretched and warped, every minute dragging as her focus frayed at the edges.
Concentration had never been her strong suit, not for that long, not without breaks, not without her thoughts spiralling off on tangents she had to keep yanking back by sheer will.
If she had to boil the entire lecture down to its takeaways, it would be this: Ether responded faster than thought; Suppression caused rebound; Fear amplified range; And when control slipped, choice mattered more than control. Which was… comforting and terrifying in equal measure.
The homework alone made her head hurt...an emotional trigger journal. Tracking what she felt, when she felt it, how it manifested in her ether. Gods. Her mind was already a mess without having to catalogue it in writing.
Still. She’d passed the first week. That fact sat in her chest like a warm, steady glow she hadn’t quite come down from yet.
Relief hummed through her veins, buoying her even as her thoughts spun too fast. She was still here.
Still standing. Still proving...if only to herself... that she could do this.
Joshua was walking her to her next class, his stride unhurried, his presence grounding. They didn’t talk much, but the silence between them was easy, familiar. Not awkward. Not heavy. Just… there.
She knew from earlier that Dominik would be attending this class with her, while Rian would be waiting outside.
Cameron was elsewhere, rotating duties as they’d planned.
The arrangement still felt ridiculous to her, overkill, bordering on absurd, but she’d learned quickly that nothing she said would change their minds. And honestly… she didn’t hate it.
The class itself, though? That had her nerves tightening.
Supernatural Community: Mate Bonds. Gods.
At least it was Ms. Marris again. Liora was firm, intimidating in her own way, but fair, and more importantly, understandable.
Anabelle could follow her explanations without feeling like she was drowning in half-finished thoughts and contradictions.
She slid into her seat, Dominik settling to her right.
The twins took the seats on her left this time, their presence a quiet wall at her side.
She adjusted her notebook, took a breath, tried to will her pulse to slow.
Then the soft, decisive sound of heels crossed the room. Right on time, she thought.
Liora Marris stepped to the front, posture straight, gaze sharp and assessing. The murmurs in the room died instantly. “Good afternoon, everyone,” Liora said, her voice calm but carrying easily. “It’s good to see those of you who passed your first week.”
Anabelle felt her shoulders loosen just a fraction.
“You’ll be happy to note,” Liora continued, “that despite losing ten students, this cohort also achieved the highest score in the entire programme for week one.”
A ripple of surprise moved through the room.
“So,” Liora said, lips curving slightly, “congratulations to the student who scored ninety percent. We’ll be expecting great things from you.”
Heads turned. Anabelle’s stomach dropped. She swallowed hard as the attention shifted, eyes darting around the room. Heat rushed up her neck, her ears burning. Gods. She wanted to sink into the chair. Disappear. Be literally anywhere else. Then she felt it.
Dominik’s hand, subtle and sure, resting against her shoulder. His thumb traced slow, grounding circles there, small enough that no one else would notice, intimate enough that it sent a shiver straight down her spine. You’re okay, the touch seemed to say.
Her breath steadied. Just a little. Butterflies exploded in her stomach anyway. She stared down at her notes, heart pounding, cheeks warm, and thought distantly, week two was going to be dangerous in entirely new ways.
Liora’s voice cut cleanly through the fog in Anabelle’s head, snapping her back to full attention.
“Now,” Liora said, turning slightly as she surveyed the room, “onto mate bonds. Exciting stuff.”
A few nervous chuckles rippled through the class.
“I’ll preface this lesson by saying that fated mate bonds are a rare occurrence but not an uncommon one,” she continued. “Roughly twenty-three percent of all supernaturals currently living on Earth have registered their mate bonds.”
Anabelle’s pulse kicked up, just a little.
“And speaking of which,” Liora added smoothly, “can anyone tell me what a mate bond is?”
A boy seated near the middle raised his hand. “It’s a gift from the gods,” he said confidently. “They’re like your other half.”
Liora hummed, considering. “Mm. Not exactly, Thomas. But close.”
She turned toward the board, picking up a marker, and began to write as she spoke, her voice steady and deliberate.
“Every person in the world has a soulmate. Someone who complements them. Balances them. True love, if you will.” She paused, underlining her words. “That is not a gift from the gods. That is a universal truth.”
She continued writing, the marker scratching softly against the board.
“For humans, this truth manifests as a search. They spend their lives looking for ‘the one.’ They date casually, trying to determine compatibility. They may choose someone to marry, but many give up during difficult times. Some are unfaithful. Other times, it’s simply circumstance that pulls them apart.
” She glanced back at the room. “These realities are accepted as normal. As inevitable.”
Liora set the marker down and turned fully to face them.
“For supernaturals,” she said, “some of them, the lucky ones, do not have to search.”
The room felt suddenly very still.
“They are indeed gifted by the gods,” she went on, “but not with the connection itself. That connection is predestined. The gift is the bond mark they receive, and the physical manifestations of the bond. It is one of the ways they know who their other half is.”
Anabelle’s breath slowed, her attention narrowing to every word.
“In a moment,” Liora said, “I’ll explain the marks themselves. But first, we’re going to discuss the bond, and what it means.”
She gestured broadly.
“Every faction recognizes their mate differently, though there is a considerable overlap. Recognition can occur by seeing the mark. By simply laying eyes on one’s mate.
By smell...shifters, for example, often recognize their mate as the most alluring, irresistible scent they have ever encountered, one that compels them to seek it out.
” A few students shifted uncomfortably. “Others recognize their mate through touch: tingling sensations when skin meets skin.”
Liora passed a thick stack of papers to the girl seated in the front row.
“I’m passing out this week’s curriculum, as I did last week.
You’ll find detailed information on recognizing fated bonds and what they entail.
After today, we’ll cover expectations within bonds, then the differences between fated and chosen bonds.
Later this week, we’ll discuss how bonds affect our community as a whole. ”
She paused, letting that sink in.
“Now,” she said, “once a bond falls into place, I’ve been told the feeling is euphoric.” A beat. “But you should know, it affects males and females very differently.”
Anabelle felt something tighten in her chest.
“If you ask me why,” Liora continued, “I’d say it goes back to ancestral DNA. Both the supernatural and human communities were, at one point in time, a very primitive species.”
She clasped her hands behind her back.
“For females, once the bond clicks into place, it can feel like love at first sight, or... it may take time for feelings to develop beyond the bond itself. But on a fundamental level, they will always care for their mate. There will always be a softness there.”
Liora’s gaze sharpened.
“For males,” she said, “it is quite different.”
A hush fell over the room. Anabelle felt Dominik’s presence beside her like a steady heat.
“For them, it feels as though their entire universe shifts on its axis. Gravity realigns. Their mate becomes the center around which everything else orbits. Now. There are three stipulations bonded males are expected to feel,” Liora said calmly. “Can anyone tell me what they are?”
Agatha’s hand shot up. “To love,” she said, then continued without hesitation, “to protect, and to serve.”
Anabelle jumped slightly in her seat, not expecting Agatha to answer so confidently.
Ms. Marris nodded approvingly. “Very good, Agatha. Yes...to love and to protect are practically a given. It is biologically hardwired into male DNA. Males treat their mates as they would have centuries ago...with reverence. With care. They take care of them in every way imaginable.”
Anabelle nodded automatically. That much made sense.
“Now,” Liora continued, “to serve...that is where many struggle.”
She scanned the room, as if gauging reactions.
“Those who misunderstand this concept often find themselves horrified by it.”
Anabelle nodded again, her thoughts immediate and firm. Of course they would. No one should serve anyone...especially not in a relationship.
“But,” Liora said, her voice sharpening slightly, “that is where you’re wrong.”
Anabelle stiffened.
“Females are very special to males, especially powerful males, because they possess the ability to control them.” She raised a hand as murmurs began.
“And when I say control, I do not mean domination. I mean calm. I mean clarity. The ability to ground them. To make them see logic when instinct overwhelms reason.”
She let that settle.
“To a bonded male,” Liora finished, “there is no higher law than what their female wants.”
Anabelle’s brows furrowed deeply. What? That didn’t make any sense at all.