18
A House Full of Wolves
Melody
I wake to agitated voices. Aris still lies curled up next to me, sleeping as I get up and pad toward the door to Blair’s room. It’s slightly ajar and I peek into the dimly lit space.
Blair stands there, and my heart sinks as I find her luggage already packed, two duffle bags in her hands, ready to leave. Riven is on the other side, that swirling vortex behind him.
“Don’t even try to pretend you didn’t land in my room on purpose,” Blair seethes, her silver fangs catching the little light.
Riven smiles a cold smile, picking a flick of lint from his clothes. “That’s your greatest problem, Blair. To accept that not everything is about you. And as soon as it isn’t, you run, am I right?”
He holds a book in his hand, which he carelessly throws onto her bed. “Here, I bought you a gratitude journal. You could try to become a nicer person for once. I heard it helps—to attract”—he snaps his fingers into the air, as if he’s looking for the right word—“ positivity into your life.”
“Shove it up your pampered ass,” Blair snaps back, dropping the bags and flinging out her claws. They are no longer hidden by any glamour and I flinch a little at the sight of her monstrous weapons glittering in the dark.
Riven chuckles, a vicious, cruel sound, his lilac eyes bristling with cold amusement. If he’s afraid of her, he doesn’t show it. Well…without magic, I would be, but he just says, “Self-discovery is a journey. And you’re right at the beginning.”
“Out! Or I swear I’ll make you crawl out of here once we’re finished.” Blair picks up the book and hurls it toward him.
Riven catches it midair and grabs it so hard it turns to powder between his fingers.
His face turns serious in an instant, as if someone has flipped a switch.
“I really do not understand what Melody sees in you, because you’re nothing but a spoiled little brat.
By all means, go. Because, as selfish and destructive as you are, her life might, indeed, be better without you. ”
“Oh, I can reciprocate that compliment. Does she know what a little monster you are, Lord of Nightfire and Ruin? Does she know you laid waste to a whole town? Torched it with your shadowfire?”
“Blair?” I say quietly.
Both their heads whip to me. Two fae, too locked up in a fight to hear a half-human approaching. Not something you see every day. I should be proud that I’ve mastered enough stealth to startle them, but right now, all I can feel is dread like lead in my bones.
“It’s time,” Riven says to me, his lilac eyes still ablaze, his aura veiled again.
I just look back at Blair. “Are you really not coming?” A part of me hoped that she would change her mind. But seeing her like this…my heart sinks even further.
“No,” she states dryly. “I’m leaving. Take care, half-human.” She turns on her heel and stalks toward me, both duffle bags again in her hands, her spine straight as a drawn blade.
“Let her go,” Riven snarls. “I think it’s for the better. Because there’s a good chance Caryan will take the time and come for you, Blair. If you do not accept a stay in Avandal, you’ll be officially declared an outlaw.”
Blair stops dead, and I spot a shiver of true fear rippling through her aura. Her head whips back to Riven, her white hair flying. “He has no interest in me. Why can’t he just let me be?”
“Enough interest to want you dead. Melody did actually try to save you with the deal she struck, but you fail to see even that. So, the way I see it, you will either fall by his hand or by one of the many who haunt the human realms. Walk out that door and seal your fate, witch, but know you can never return to the fae world.”
I see the flash of pain in her aura as she surely thinks about her mothers. If she walks out that door, she’ll never see them again. But then, she said they might be dead already anyway.
“Please come, Blair,” I try one last time, my heart cracking open. Bleeding for her. For me too. For us and all we could have been, could have had. One day.
Maybe.
“Don’t make it harder than it is, half-human. Off you go. We’re better off without each other anyways.” Without another word, she turns away and stalks toward the door. I turn to Riven, whose glittering eyes trail her. Aris has followed me and is now pressing against my leg to soothe me.
“You did everything you could, little one. It is her decision,” he assures me.
I swallow hard, bending down to run my left hand over Aris’s soft wings. I will be alright. One day, I am going to be alright. I promise myself that.
After a long moment, I finally feel brave enough to meet Riven’s eyes.
“Ready?” he asks sternly.
No. “Let’s get this over with,” I say and step into the vortex without waiting for him to join me.
The world tilts and bends, bleeds into the fae world, and spits me out right in the middle of a large meadow. I blink a few times, the unexpected daylight stinging my eyes.
Everything is dipped in bright light, and I can see the gleaming white temple enthroned on the hill I stood on last night.
By day, it feels unreal, as though it might vanish if I blink.
Pale stone curves upward in soft, flowing lines, half-veiled by flowering vines that spill over balustrades and wind lazily around the pillars.
White and lilac petals drift through the air, catching the sunlight like falling sparks.
Steam breathes from the open roof in slow, silvery plumes, and the blue water surrounding the temple glimmers faintly, its surface rippling as if stirred by hidden magic.
The whole place looks grown rather than built—a quiet dream shaped out of light, blossoms, and time. Magical and ephemeral.
When I turn to look around, rolling hills unfurl in every direction, their green grass rippling softly in the breeze. Far below, to my right, a city of bright buildings and slender bridges sprawls along the land, rivers threading through it like ribbons of light, glittering in the sun. Avandal.
I finally lift my gaze to the vast, arched university before me.
Pale stone rises in spires and sweeping arches, its sharp-edged beauty thrumming faintly with magic.
Gargoyles cling to the ledges, their watchful faces half-alive, wings poised to unfurl, while wisteria drapes the walls in fragrant, violet cascades.
Sunlight fractures across the stone, bleaching it pale as enchanted bone.
It stands beautiful and intimidating all at once, a place of discipline rather than grace.
Only then do I realize the treacherous portal has flung me straight into the heart of a training session.
A large number of students pause whatever it was they have been doing and draw closer to take a look at the vortex and—well, me, Aris, and Riven.
I suppose a vortex made by an angel is not a sight they see every day, but still, part of me wants to step right back into it and disappear.
So much for hoping I could arrive unnoticed… .
I swallow the lump in my throat, or at least try to. This is going to be my life. I will spend the next year here. And maybe more. Depending on Caryan and his mood and plans.
I glance at the tattoo of wings branded into my wrist, the mark suddenly biting like cold manacles. Riven appears beside me, and we both turn to Beeatrisa as she strides toward us, her pale gray robe snapping in her wake, sinister guards closing in around her like a shadow. Oh, sweet hells.
“I’m here, little one,” Aris murmurs down the bond, just as my breath starts to turn uneven, panic rising sharp and fast, threatening to pull me under like a wave. I’m never going to survive this.
I whip around as an all-too-familiar voice behind me drawls, “Oh hells, fuck me hard, why did I have to step through that damn portal? No way am I going to talk to that spitfire.”