Chapter 5 Forget Me, Forget-Me-Not
I wake up hungry for the first time in a very long time. It’s such a foreign feeling that I don’t recognize it at first, but then I remember the dream I was having just before waking up. I’d been feeding on Grace, and she had been delicious.
Just the memory has my fangs exploding in my mouth, thirst raking its ravenous claws down the back of my throat. But since I’m pretty sure Grace isn’t going to let me feed on her anytime soon, I’ll have to make do with something from Katmere’s blood bank.
Throwing back the covers, I put on some joggers and running shoes, grab my brand-new phone, and head for the door. Breakfast and an early-morning run seem like a good way to clear the cobwebs from my brain.
Three mugs of blood later, and I’m out the door and running down the steps.
I love early morning in Alaska, especially in the months where it takes the sun a while to rise.
There’s something so relaxing about running through the melting snow in the dark, with only the wind and a few wild animals to keep me company.
I run through the trees and down next to a nearby stream. It was one of my favorite paths to take when I was here before, and my muscle memory still remembers every rut and bump in the trail.
When I get down to the water, I find exactly what I was hoping to—a small copse of wildflowers just beginning to push through the snow.
Usually wildflowers don’t bloom until June in Alaska, but I’m pretty sure the witches have this area charmed, because there are flowers growing here at least six months of the year.
I stop to pick a few handfuls of them—mostly whites and purples, though I do throw in a few yellow because I like the color and a couple of the blue forget-me-nots because I can’t resist. I’ve never picked flowers before, so I should probably feel more than a little silly doing it now.
But all I can think about is how much Grace loves wildflowers, not to mention nearly anything purple.
Once I’m done, I fade back to campus before the cold wind can blast the petals off their stems. I charm the kitchen witches out of a vase for the bouquet, as well as a basket of cinnamon rolls, and take both to Grace’s door.
I think about leaving a note, but that seems extra cheesy, so I just knock and then fade down the hallway before they can get to the door.
There are stages to winning my mate back, and while stage one involves flowers and pastries, it does not involve awkward moments standing over said flowers and pastries while my mate struggles to figure out what to say. For now, baby steps seem just the right size—even if they bloody well kill me.
Once I’m back in my room, I take a quick shower before getting dressed for the day. Since we’re portal hunting, I opt for jeans, boots, and a black Armani sweater, then grab another hoodie on my way out the door.
It only takes a few seconds for me to reach the castle entryway, but the others are already there, or at least I assume everyone’s there, since the group is an odd number and includes everyone Grace talks to on a regular basis.
I find my mate in the crowd right away, mainly because she’s wearing a hot-pink ski jacket and knitted vampire hat in a sea of black and navy jackets but also because she’s Grace. She’ll always be the first one my eyes go to.
As I walk toward her, I’m nervous again.
Not because of the open hostility I see on most of the Order’s faces—I don’t give a shite what my brother and his lapdogs think of me—but I am wondering how Grace is going to react to me being here now that it’s obvious Jaxon isn’t happy about it.
And also if she liked the flowers I brought her earlier.
I brace myself for a rude comment or twelve from my baby brother, but Jaxon doesn’t respond at all when I walk up to the group with a quiet, “Hi.”
“Hey,” Macy responds with a grin that doesn’t quite make it to her tired-looking eyes. “Glad you decided to join us.”
“Yeah,” Grace says quietly. “We all are.”
I lift my brows in an oh yeah kind of way, since it’s pretty obvious that’s not the case, at least if the way Flint and the Order are glaring at me is any indication.
Grace rolls her eyes and whispers, “Ignore them,” as we all file outside and down the stairs. As we do, I realize they waited for me. Despite the fact that half of them very clearly don’t want me here, they still waited around until I showed up before heading out to Portal Search Party.
It’s a stupid thing to focus on in the midst of all the dirty looks I’m getting, but it’s the first time anyone except Grace has ever waited for me. For anything.
“So,” Grace says as we wander across the courtyard to where Foster is standing in front of several other groups of students. “Tell me what we’re supposed to do again?”
“We spend the next four hours searching all over campus for portals—” Macy starts to explain, but Grace interrupts before she gets more than a sentence out.
“How do we do that exactly? Is there a portal detector or something?”
Flint laughs. “Yeah, you’re the portal detector.”
“I don’t know what that means.” Grace looks from him to Jaxon and Macy and then back again.
The fact that she doesn’t look at me at all stings, but it doesn’t stop me from stepping up. Hell, maybe it even encourages me to, since I’m not normally a joiner, let alone a mansplainer.
“It means you know you’ve found a portal when you fall through it,” I tell her. “Then, after you make your way back through it to where you started, you can mark it, and one of the witch instructors will come along and close it.”
My mate looks unimpressed. “Seriously? I have to fall through more portals?”
“Yeah.” Mekhi looks almost as glum as she does. “And trust me, the ones done by most students are nowhere near as sophisticated as the ones the witches made for Ludares. So look out.”
Grace’s face goes from unimpressed to downright concerned. “What exactly does an unsophisticated portal look like?”
“It’s not what it looks like. It’s what it feels like,” Macy says. “And it’s not that bad, I swear.”
“Yeah, if ‘not bad’ means feeling like pulled taffy without the stretchiness of taffy,” Flint grouses.
“Ignore him.” Macy gives her most winning smile. “No one would do it if it was that bad. Plus, we get to end the search with a giant bonfire and marshmallow roast. It’s a lot of fun.”
“Sounds like a lot of fun,” Grace responds with a grimace.
I can’t exactly fault Grace for her lack of enthusiasm. She did just survive the worst Ludares game in history—complete with more portals than any person should have to go through on their own.
“I’ll stay with you if you want to sit this one out,” I offer.
Jaxon glares at me, but I don’t give a shite. If he’s not going to step up and take care of my mate, then he has no business being pissed when I try to.
“Thanks, but I’m sure it will be fun,” Grace says. “Besides, what’s the worst that can happen?”