23. The Rose
Chapter 23
The Rose
A massacre had been found in the wood, demons had returned from extinction, and me? I was stuck sitting in a classroom listening to students prattle on about inconsequential rumors.
Our efforts to keep the bodies in the woods discreet had been in vain. By the time we’d documented all we could, received the go-ahead from the guards, and carefully loaded the victims into the carriage to bring back to the Academy, the halls and outer areas had been flooded with students and staff gaping at us as we passed. I briefly wondered if it was becoming more normal to see me covered in blood and smelling of death. Picking up bodies was a gory business.
To my surprise, Grayson hadn’t uttered a single harsh word to me since we’d entered the death-ridden clearing. I should take it as a kindness that he hadn’t pointed out I’d done exactly as he’d predicted: I’d failed. Because really, what else could I have called it?
Regardless of what I said to the others, I knew those bodies weren’t there the night before. If I’d brought the corpses with us or returned to collect them, Headmaster’s order be damned, then maybe those people would still be alive.
Additional enchantments were cast along the Academy’s borders and a campus-wide curfew had been implemented until further notice. The infirmary had been divided into two sides: one for healing, and one for that which can no longer be healed. We’d always had a dungeon on the school grounds. We’d never needed a morgue.
But were the students surrounding me talking about these threats to life as we knew it? Was anyone plotting how they’d protect their courts from another attack? No. They were prattling on about a Prince.
“Did you hear Asher was spotted with a female last night?” I heard a girl behind me ask.
“There’s no way,” her friend responded, “He’s been here three years, and not one person has garnered his attention. I’d check your source on that rubbish.”
“It’s true! Jemima saw it with her own eyes!”
“Okay,” the friend said with an edge in her voice, “Then who was he with?”
“Well.” She paused. “She couldn’t tell who it was. She could just see Asher pressed up against someone.” Relief flooded through me at the assurance I hadn’t been identified as his companion. If he hadn’t been pressed against– or to be more precise–hunched over me, I surely would’ve been, and the last thing I wanted was more eyes tracking my every step.
The stares in the hall this morning were proof enough that tales of me defeating the demons alongside Kenna had spread. Had they seen my face with Asher last night, they’d have surely named me by now. With everything else that had happened the past day, Asher being spotted with me in the hallway shouldn’t even be a topic of conversation.
Naomi leaned over to me and whispered, “Who do you think was with the Prince last night?”
“Does it matter?” I asked dryly. “It has nothing to do with us.”
She bit her lip and looked down. I thought she’d gained some maturity for letting it go, but she ruined it by saying, “I know but he’s never seen with anyone. Aren’t you the least bit curious?”
“No.” I didn’t need to be. “Maybe we should be less focused on handsome foxes and more focused on class. Have you done your make-up exam in herbology yet?”
“Not yet.” She flopped back in her chair with a frown that turned to a smile a second later. “So you admit he’s handsome, then?”
Goddess save me.
She must have heard my plea because Eris walked through the door a moment later. She took the seat beside mine and placed one of the two steaming mugs she carried on my desk.
“Someone thought you could use this today.” She cradled her own mug like it was the last fire during a winter storm. I thanked her and took a sip. Chocolate and hazelnut. My favorite. I didn’t usually drink it this late in the afternoon, but today was not a usual day.
“Oh my gods do you think it was one of those girls with Asher?”
“No way.”
“I told you that was why she sat with them!”
“Oh shut up?—”
“Don’t be such a?—”
“He would never?—”
They all spoke at once, and I fought the urge to slam my dagger into their desks to demand a moment’s peace.
“You know,” Eris pondered aloud, “I find people’s choice of conversation so insightful. I feel like it speaks to their priorities, don’t you?”
“Absolutely,” I agreed easily, noticing the chatter behind us had, once again, fallen silent because of her musings. Maybe I should switch my schedule to align with hers if it would bring a full day’s peace. Eris’ normally sweet face turned a smidge maniacal as she stared down at her coffee in thought.
“Fabian and Asher, for example, detest gossip. They say it’s the first sign of poor intellect, not to mention poor character.”
Gasps of indignation sounded both from the seats behind us and, less humorously, from Naomi on my left.
“I couldn’t agree more.”
“They may be right on one account, though.” Her mouth turned up on one side in a sly grin. “My cousin would not be spotted with any mere female. Whoever she was, she must be extraordinary to garner his attention.”
I hummed a noncommittal response and sent a quick prayer of thanks to whichever goddess was listening when the professor walked in a second later.
“Maybe,” she continued, as the professor began taking out the day’s materials, “She’s so extraordinary that she can even emerge from a battle with demons unscathed, saving someone in the process.”
“Eris, it’s not what you think.”
She leaned back in her chair, “We’ll see. There’s only been one other person he considered giving that ring to, and she meant a great deal to him. I wouldn’t take his decision to put it on your finger lightly.”
Naomi was staring at me with eyes the size of custard tarts. She opened her mouth but closed it and faced the front after one look from me.
Eris suspected something had happened between Asher and me last night. That much was obvious, but I was less certain of what she suspected. Nothing happened. I knew that. Asher knew that. But did she know that? If she’d sat beside me thinking her cousin’s interest in me was romantic, she’d be sorely disappointed.
I wasn’t sure what our encounter in the hall had been, but romantic was nowhere near the list of descriptors. It was probably him acting out of whatever misplaced sense of duty he felt toward me from giving me the damn ring that felt more and more right on my finger. I blamed the freaky fox magic, or maybe the greedy demon blood.
It was probably the demon blood.
I looked at Eris despite myself. As much as I hated to admit it, her cryptic comment about someone else made me curious to know what kind of person was capable of slipping beneath the death god’s icy exterior.
“Who was she?” I asked, surprising both Naomi and myself.
Eris looked down at her hands before answering.
“She was his bonded,” she said, her smile stained in sorrow. I should have left it there. I’d already pried too far into matters that were not my own.
“Is she here, at the Academy?” I hadn’t seen another female with him in the halls. “Will she be angry that he gave me the ring?”
If the death god’s impulsive gift put me in the middle of an inter-realm incident, I’d find his favorite belongings and burn them before scattering their ashes in the wind. He’d never know what befell them, but I would, and that satisfaction would be enough.
“She isn’t anywhere.” My heart dropped at Eris’ answer. “She was taken from him.”
I opened my mouth to apologize for overstepping but was interrupted before I could form the words.
“Eyes on me, everyone. Your attention, please,” Professor Richards called. He stood at the front of the room with one foot in front of the other. His hands were placed on his hips and his chin was raised slightly in the air. The green of his shirt was so bright I was tempted to shield my eyes to avoid the glare. He had to be the most pompous person on this campus.
“As you know from reading the syllabus, we’re discussing bonds. Please get out your pre-work. I’ll be coming around to collect it.”
I reached into my rucksack to pull out the essay I’d written the morning before and the questionnaire. To my right, Eris did the same. When I looked at Naomi the blood had drained from her horror-drawn face.
“We had pre-work?” she asked in a hushed voice as she looked around. Professor Richards had made it to the second row. “When did he assign pre-work?”
“It was in the syllabus,” I said, trying to keep the growl from my voice, “Did you not read it?”
Two pink spots appeared across her cheeks.
“I mean I skimmed it, but don’t the professors usually tell you ahead of time? I didn’t think it was necessary!” The already rapid rise and fall of her chest only increased as the Professor drew closer. “What am I supposed to do?”
“Take whatever consequence he gives you, and start keeping track of your assignments in a journal like the responsible adult you’re supposed to be.”
She looked like she was close to tears, and she should be. Of all the classes in this school to miss an assignment in this was not the class. After he’d frozen half the class on our first day he’d taken to using magic on any student who either didn’t meet his expectations or crossed him by way of transfiguration, taking away one of their senses, or even freezing them the entirety of the day.
It was obvious to anyone watching that he took pleasure in it. He smiled each time a student entered the classroom with a face of fear. Crying would only make it worse, and my compassion would only make her cry harder. I needed to snap her out of it.
“Briar,” Naomi reached over to grab my hand, one tear falling, “I’m scared.”
“It’s going to be okay,” I told her, squeezing her hand, “Just take a breath. You forgot an assignment, you didn’t kill someone. You need to keep yourself together, understand? You’re a representative of the Othniel Shifter Pack and we do not break. Right?”
She nodded frantically and wiped at her face. “Right.”
“Good.” Goddess, please let her not break for both the sake of the pack’s reputation and her own. Males like Professor Richards thrived on the humiliation of others. Their only real power was to abuse the powerless.
Naomi was still muttering a pep talk to herself when the pursed-lip professor reached our desks. He stopped in front of each seat with an outstretched hand. First Eris handed him her assignment to add to the growing stack he held against his hip, then me. When he stopped in front of Naomi, she stared down at her desk and mumbled something too low for even me to hear.
“If you must speak, at least do so audibly. Better yet, don’t. Just hand in your assignment and spare me the rest,” Professor Richards said sharply.
“I don’t have it,” she said only slightly louder. The professor frowned, feigning disappointment, but I saw the glee in his eyes.
“Don’t have it?” he asked. She shook her head in response. “Did you forget to bring it or simply decide not to do it? Are my lessons beneath you? Do you feel you already know all there is to learn, and thus my offerings to advance your understanding are useless to you? Is that it?”
Naomi gasped as her head shot up from the desk to look at him straight on. She waved her hands in front of her and said, “No, of course not! I’m so sorry, I just forgot. I meant no offense, and I’ll turn it in at our next class, I promise.”
The professor’s mouth turned up the slightest bit and his next words were spoken like silk. “You promise, do you? What is it you’re willing to give me in return for accepting such assurances? How am I to know you’ll follow through when you so clearly failed to do so when given the chance before?”
Don’t do it, Naomi, I pleaded with her silently. For all that is good in the world, if you have a shred of sense, do not fall for this.
“Any—”
“Enough.” I cut her off before she gave more than she was truly willing. The fae turned to me, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek. I was tempted to throw my mug at him, but that would be a waste of coffee.
“Ah, the young Luna.” He looked me over. “I heard you slayed a demon in the woods. Are you an aspiring writer? Were you practicing one of your tales?”
He was baiting me. I knew it. He knew it. The silent students watching us knew it. I had two choices: back down and let him return his attention to Naomi or answer his taunts and make myself his next target.
“I wasn’t blessed with the gift of storytelling.” I kept my tone even—casual even. I’d be damned if I gave him the slightest reaction. He’d be disappointed if he expected to see fear or anger on my face. He waited, obviously expecting me to say more, maybe defend myself or try to prove why the report was true.
I didn’t. He deserved nothing of me, so that’s what I’d give him: nothing.
“No? So we’re just to believe that you vanquished a supremely powerful being—an extinct powerful being at that—and walked away the victor? Really, Miss Lennox, even with Miss Lenoir at your side that’s quite far-fetched.”
He set the stack of papers down and placed his hands along the edge of my desk to lean over me. I shifted forward, my arms crossing atop the surface less than a foot from his hands.
“Let’s be honest with each other, Miss Lennox. The likelihood of any shifter, let alone one barely old enough to attend the Academy–one who can’t even shift,” he scoffed, “could defeat such a foe is next to nil. So tell me, what threat do you truly pose? What gives you the gall to interrupt a discussion between a student and her professor?”
There was something beautiful about the moment before a predator realized they’d become the prey. He was looming over me, chest puffed up, smug smile plastered on his face, eyes drilling into mine. I could’ve held back, I could’ve let it go to keep the peace. I didn’t.
I laughed.
He wasn’t smiling now. I heard more than one student gasp at my outburst, but I didn’t look away from him as I chose my next words.
“Professor, allow me to answer your questions with one of my own.” I tilted my head to one side, “Do you know why you’ll never see a shifter leaning over an adversary?”
He drew his head back an inch or two, his brows nearly meeting above the bridge of his nose. He gave no answer.
“No?” I asked. It wasn’t quite a taunt–I had some sense of self-preservation–but it wasn’t far off. I leaned closer, nearly rising from my chair to whisper, “It exposes their throat.”