21 #2
“This you’ll need to ask him,” he says, evasive.
Grand. Of course, he’s not allowed to talk about that, which only makes me more alert.
It would fit because Caryan’s magic is pure darkness.
But I know so little of the fae’s magic rules, and his eyes shift colors.
So, maybe I’m wrong. And if he does…what about Riven’s nightfire? His eyes hold no darkness at all.
“I’m going to sleep now. Emergencies only,” Aris rumbles and I can feel his full belly a second before he pulls the shields between us up further.
“And why does it run in the ground?” Evanalora continues.
“Because our world consists of wild magic and dark magic,” a girl with bright orange hair says.
“Correct.”
Another hand rises. “But, Professor, why are the moon witches extinct if they were so powerful?”
“Because they stopped making babies, maybe,” Ryder suggests, and laughter follows.
Evanalora’s magic lashes out, a bubble of air flares and then bursts under her magic—and then he’s flung into the wall too.
“Nice counter, Ryder, but not strong enough. Work on your defenses,” Evanalora chides.
He whimpers like a dog—not from pain, but from being told he’s not good enough. I see it in his aura.
Evanalora’s face turns serious again. “Back to Narelia’s question—why a powerful race died out.
Good question. In truth, a race like moon witches doesn’t simply die out.
We assume, as with all who wielded moon- and starlight— silver elves among them—that they were purposely hunted to extinction. Wiped from existence.”
Her eyes find mine and stay. I fidget while my heart suddenly pumps faster again. Silver elves. My mother was the last—and hid all her life. So far, I’d assumed she was hunted for rare talents like mine, like being able to read and speak old languages, but for her magic too?
“But by whom? And why?” the boy next to me asks when Evanalora nods to let him speak.
But her eyes don’t leave mine. She knows what I am. Who told her—Beeatrisa? “We do not know. Perhaps ancient books in the archives could shed light,” she suggests, and I swear her gaze is burning a hole into me.
“But those books are so old, no one can translate them,” he argues.
“Maybe someone can,” Evanalora says, finally looking at him.
My heart still pounds. She’s telling me to go translate them.
She thinks there are books on silver elves and moon witches down there.
Suddenly, my deal with Beeatrisa doesn’t sound so awful anymore.
I’ll be buried in the archives—but I could find what Evanalora wants me to find.
The bell rings, but no one moves.
Evanalora finally sighs up at the ceiling.
“Time flew. We’re already three moon cycles in.
Your assessment to pass your exams this semester: brew basic Wolf’s Howling.
Our goal is, of course, advanced Wolf’s Howling, which, as most of you know, can turn you into a full wolf when you drink it.
But for now you’re tasked to brew basic Wolf’s Howling, which makes you grow a tail and enhances your sense of smell dramatically.
As always, you’re going to be tested by drinking your own potions.
But be warned: Basic Wolf’s Howling causes excessive body-hair growth if you do it wrong.
So better do it right. Those who fail will run around with excessive fur for the rest of the school day.
And might get expelled out of university as a result of your failure. ”
What the actual fuck? A tail. And hair growth? “She’ll…make us try them on ourselves?” I ask Shay.
She leans in and lowers her voice. “Yeah. She says it’s the best motivator.”
“Please tell me you know how to brew a potion,” I shoot to Aris, finding his bond in a sleepy haze. I know it’s rude, but I intrude anyway.
“I was just about to fall asleep, thank you,” he snaps. “We just agreed on emergencies only.”
“This is an emergency. I’m going to run around with fur.”
“And I ate twelve sheep and can barely keep my eyes open. Talk to your classmates,” he chuckles. Lizardy bastard.
“Twelve sheep?”
“Twelve delicious sheep. Now I’m off to dreamland.”
I sigh and let him sleep, following Shay out of the vast classroom.
“Fur? Really?” I ask once we’re out of earshot of Evanalora.
“Oh, you should’ve seen other assessments.
Once she had us make basic Mermaid Tears.
Done right, you can grow gills for a short time.
Done wrong, you sprout octopus arms. Half the class ran around like that all day.
She eventually had to put us out of our misery, because we couldn’t attend other classes. But—magical combat was pretty fun.”
“Yeah, it ended with us slapping each other with huge tentacles because none of us could access our magic.” Cassius slings an arm around Shay and smirks at me.
“But…do you need your hands to summon magic? The high lords don’t. They do it with half a thought.”
They all stop and share a look.
“Sorry. Stupid question,” I backtrack, but Ryder grabs my hand. I startle, but it’s his wolf instinct to touch, so I let him.
He squeezes my fingers gently. “No, not stupid. We’ve just never met anyone from the human world. It’s freaking awesome.”
“Or someone close with the high lords,” Shay adds, wide-eyed, as though they’re some kind of celebrities. But here I guess they are.
“Freaking awesome?” Cassius mocks.
Ryder grins. “That’s how humans speak, right? I found some books from your world, babe.” He looks back at me.
I grimace and pull my hand away. “Don’t call me babe .”
“I thought it was nice,” he whines, taking my hand again.
I swat him away. “Well—no. If you call someone who isn’t your girlfriend babe , she might be offended.”
A wicked glint enters his eyes as he keeps pawing at me. “Shame.”
“Ignore him. He’s a wild beast who doesn’t know how to behave,” Cassius says.
Ryder whines, touching his heart as if mortally wounded, and a laugh escapes me.
Shay smiles at us like a mother smiles at her children. “About wielding. High lords,” she says, and I swear she blushes, “are exceptionally skilled. Few manage to wield without hands. They’re what all fae strive to be.”
I ignore the heat in my face. It makes Riven’s shadowfire last night even more impressive. And…hot. “But why does Evanalora make us brew these? Who needs a potion to grow werewolf chest hair?”
“Well, Ryder clearly doesn’t,” Cassius jokes. Ryder actually nuzzles Cassius’s neck in answer, draping his arms over Shay and Cassius before he starts sniffing Cassius’s hair.
“I’m not all hairy, man,” he whines when he’s done sniffing Cassius.
“Unless you’re in your wolfy form,” Shay teases. He ruffles her hair, then buries his head into her hair too until she shoves him off with a laugh.
“Evanalora does it to train us for real potions. Advanced Mermaid Tears can make you grow a tail and breathe underwater for a short time. Just as advanced Wolf’s Howling can turn you into a wolf.”
“Not a full wolf, darling. A shrunken, pathetic version of a wolf,” Ryder snorts, clearly unhappy. “A ridiculous little mutt.”
“Don’t like others turning into wolves?” Cassius smirks.
“I don’t like that you all look like little snacks that trigger my instincts to hunt you down,” Ryder growls, entirely serious. Fae can’t lie. I keep forgetting that, and I shudder.
We stroll out of the building, and they keep chatting with each other.
I tag along, glad their presence draws fewer stares, and I can kind of hide in their shadows.
We cross the vast lawn—grass so green I want to take off my shoes and feel it under my bare feet.
Students sit under trees with books, reading, others in clusters.
“The queen,” Ryder says, elbowing Cassius in the side so hard he sighs.
We all turn to look. The first-floor balcony doors open, and a breathtaking woman steps out with hair the rich color of fresh caramel. Diamonds shimmer through it and trail over a rich blue gown. A diadem woven into her hair catches the sun in rainbow sparks.
Riven said the campus and the palace are one, so I guess, behind this balcony, lie the royal quarters.
My heart lifts—then plummets down in freefall when Riven steps out behind her.
Regal as always, in a black tunic—baring his broad white chest—and black pants, tailored immaculately to his body so they perfect his natural elegance to a point where everyone around must feel clumsy and dull.
He has one hand casually in his pocket while he’s obviously waiting for the queen to speak first.
Riven’s eyes find mine immediately—as if he senses me in the crowd. My shattered heart leaps again. Gods, he can’t truly have that effect on me, can he? Yep, apparently, he can.
Bells keep chiming a light, beautiful tune, summoning more people until the spacious lawn is crowded with students and professors.
Finally, Queen Daphina lifts her arms. “Good morning, beautiful students of Avandal. Due to the ongoing threat of Palisandre and King Lorvil, the Cruel, and the witches under Perenilla, Caryan, the Dark Lord and I have decided it’s safer to introduce changes to your curriculum and campus security.
Our wards have wavered over the last months due to attacks from Palisandre, but rest assured, the Dark Lord and I are repairing and reinforcing them together.
You will also see new soldiers the Dark Lord has graciously sent from his kingdom to ensure Avandal’s safety. ”
As she speaks, my heart knots for an entirely different reason.
Caryan. Well, it’s the way she speaks about him so casually.
As if they were old friends. Or more , my stupid mind whispers.
That thought does something ugly to me, even though I know the jealousy is irrational.
I really shouldn’t care about what or who asshat Caryan does in his free time. But I do. Gods, this cursed bond.
But…where is Caryan? Why did he send Riven in his stead?
Around me, students whisper and exchange excited looks. They eventually fall silent when Riven steps to Daphina’s side. I fight the instinct to bare my teeth as his hand rests casually on her bare shoulder.
Great. Now I’m jealous of two men I shouldn’t want, and they’re both close to the queen, for all the hells. To the queen whose beauty easily rivals Blair’s.
“Indeed, there have been more attacks, and even demon sightings, recently,” Riven says, his voice magnified by some magic so it thunders over the space.
“So the Dark Lord has decided to change your curricula. First, High Lord Kyrith Kriannon—the White Mountain Lion of Palisandre—will take over magical combat. All adult citizens of Avandal are required to train. Your current professors will teach the classes, while High Lord Kriannon oversees your education. There will also always be two high lords present in Avandal. Any unusual occurrences or sightings must be reported to us or to Queen Daphina immediately.”
I stare, my mind scrambling to process all that information. Palisandre. Attacks. And—Kyrith. No. Not Kyrith . Of all people, not the man who almost killed me and still wants me dead.
“He’ll be roasted like a piglet on a spike if he touches you. You bonded with a demon,” Aris rumbles down the bond, and his warm, lizardy reassurance fills me anew until I bathe in it.
“I thought you were sleeping.”
“So did I. Then I felt Riven close and decided it was time to wake up.” I want to hug him over the bond.
“I know,” he says, feeling me.
“The second change,” Riven continues, “is that I will personally take over magic-wielding classes as Professor Bavron takes over teaching non-students. We think it best that everyone can defend themselves and their homes. War is coming. We need to be ready.”
Chaos erupts when the speech ends. Daphina adds some soothing, rallying words I barely hear, then both step back, doors closing.