20. The Moon
Chapter 20
The Moon
W hen I saw her in the hall, I told myself I didn’t trace her every step or make a note of each speck of dirt and blood speckled across her skin. I told myself my heart wasn’t racing to escape the confines of my chest for fear she’d be taken from me. I told myself I didn’t think of her at all, but if the lies we tell ourselves have lives of their own, mine surely died the moment the word demon crossed her lips.
I could list the predators that made me uneasy on one hand, but demons were most certainly at the top of the list. They were ruthless. Invasive. Destructive. Merciless. Their power fed from the fear, anger, and despair of their opponents, only growing stronger as a battle raged on.
I’d still been a child the day they were purged from society, but I thanked every god above and below when it was done. Even then I knew that the price we paid when evil was allowed to prosper was higher than we could ever afford—than we could ever recover from losing. I knew it better than most.
And now they were back if the women were to be believed, and I had no reason to doubt Briar’s and Kenna’s word other than my inability to reconcile their account with what I’d thought to be true only hours prior. I was growing more impatient each minute we had to wait to hear the full story. Logically, I knew it made sense to recount it together and with everyone present. Illogically, I wanted every detail the moment I saw the blood coating their skin and battle adrenaline still shining in their eyes.
The handful of students who were still awake as we winded through the halls openly stared as we passed. Foxes and shifters weren’t enemies but we certainly weren’t friends. Our combined presence alone would draw a few curious eyes, but add in the women’s gory appearance and I knew we’d soon be the only topic of conversation amongst the masses today.
Still, I didn’t like it. An awestruck pixie had the misfortune of catching my eye after ogling one of the females a section too long. All it took for him to scatter away was the slightest narrowing of my eyes. Pathetic.
I loved the Academy, but after three years of being constantly gawked at, whispered about, and approached by other realms—either in hopes of forming an alliance or in an attempt to prove themselves stronger than us—I was well and truly done with pretending to tolerate their antics.
Leading meant playing this game they called politics, but at least the beauty of power was deciding how the game would be played. I played it by glaring at people. Simple but effective. People were less likely to speak to you if they worried you’d kill them for opening their mouths. A reputation Briar was beginning to earn for herself as well.
By the time we’d made it across campus to knock on the Headmaster’s door, the whispers were like gravel grating against my skin. Isaac banged on the closed door and a nasal voice called for us to enter through the wood. Gods, I hated listening to him speak.
At his invitation, Isaac opened the door and gestured for Briar to go ahead of him. The rest of us filed in until the lot of us stood clustered in the tepid round room. According to the rules of pack decorum, the highest-ranking member should enter first, but given the circumstances, I refrained from pointing that out to her.
“Good evening, sir. We apologize for stopping in unannounced, but?—”
“Briar Lennox,” he drawled as he rose from his desk, “Beta of the Othniel Pack, it is so lovely to meet you. Ivy has told me such wonderful things about you over the years, I feel I know you already. Welcome to the Iolite Academy! I do hope you’ve been settling in well here.” She gave him a small, hesitant smile, and I found myself jealous of a graying warlock.
What was running through her head when she gave it, I wondered. Why was it hesitant? Did she always shy away from compliments? Did she think herself unworthy of the accolades? Was she embarrassed by how energetically the Headmaster was shaking her hand now that he’d made it around his desk to her? I didn’t know, but I wanted to. I wanted to know every thought running through her head and read every emotion hidden behind her face, and that was the problem. I shouldn’t. I couldn’t.
“Yes, it’s good to meet you too, sir, but the reason we’re stopping in is?—”
“Yes, yes,” he said as he leaned back against the front of his desk, ankles crossed and hands resting on the surface on either side. “So thoughtful of you to come and say hello. I won’t keep you this evening, but you simply must join me for tea one afternoon. Ivy told me about your run-in with a troll last year; I’m dying to hear all about it.” I took care not to let my face reveal my surprise.
That’s a story I’d like to hear as well, but it wasn’t the time and my impatience only grew each time he interrupted her. By the increasingly set line of Briar’s jaw, hers wasn’t far behind. Her chest rose as she took a deep breath before, again, trying to inform the Headmaster why we were here and, again, being cut off by his own pointless ramblings. Enough was enough, and if no one reigned him in within the next ten seconds, I would.