Chapter 27
Thou Shalt Not Sip Shame and Call It Science.
Arwen
Brix walks me all the way to the library—again. At this point, he’s practically escorting me through life like it’s his full-time job. He gives a little two-finger salute before peeling off toward his own class, and… universe help me, it makes something in my chest loosen.
Not the forced “let’s-make-Atticus-lose-his-mind” vibe we planned on. Just… easy. Warm. The comfortable that sneaks up on you.
I shove the door to the tucked-away study room open, the hinges giving their usual squeak. Maddox is already inside, hunched over a stack of notes.
His head lifts, one brow arching. “So do you require an escort everywhere you go now?”
I drop into the chair across from him, rolling my eyes.
“Please. Brix is just a friend. We study, we insult each other’s handwriting, we don’t make out in supply closets. It’s very wholesome.”
He hums—one of those low, judgmental sounds that translates to whatever helps you sleep at night—but he doesn’t push it. Fine by me.
I drag my homework out of my bag and pretend to be a functioning student. Pencil to paper, numbers and formulas… except none of it sticks. My hand’s moving, but my brain’s somewhere else.
It keeps circling back to the same things: the potion Maddox is trying to create, the Council breathing down my neck from a distance, the ticking clock no one else can hear but me. Every day feels like sand slipping through my fingers.
It feels dangerous.
Maddox said it would take time… but time is exactly what I don’t have. How long is “a while”? Weeks? Months? Longer than the tiny sliver of the term I have left?
Ryker and I are… something. Nothing exclusive but our friendship is budding into something more. I’m letting him in, piece by piece, and maybe—maybe—he’ll have some sway with his father like he has said.
But a single Councilor tossing me a life preserver while the rest of them are ready to shove me off the edge? Yeah, that’s not a solid survival plan.
And no matter how much I try to pretend otherwise, I can feel it—this steady, frantic ticking under my skin.
I hate bringing it up again. The question sits heavy in my throat until I can’t take it anymore.
“How’s the potion coming?” I ask, forcing my voice to sound casual, though my fingers twist in my lap.
Maddox lets out a slow breath. “If you want the truth… it’s not looking good,” he admits, gaze flicking away before cutting back to mine.
“I’ve tried every method I trust—and a few I shouldn’t—but it won’t stabilize. Nothing holds.”
His jaw tightens, like he hates the words even as he says them. “It’s not working,” he pauses, swallowing hard. “And I don’t know if it will.”
His words hit like a stone dropped straight into my stomach, heavy and sinking fast. The walls of the little study room suddenly feel way too close.
I force myself to breathe, to keep going. I don’t have the luxury of stopping.
“And your father?” I ask, hating how my voice sounds. “If you… brought me up to him, do you think he’d even consider it? Maybe speak in my favor?”
The question tastes awful—like swallowing something jagged. Asking for help like this always feels like stepping onto thin ice: risky, humiliating, necessary. But I need an answer, even if it’s one I won’t like.
Maddox stills, the air around him tightening. He leans back in his chair, jaw ticking once before he answers.
“My father doesn’t… listen,” he says. “Not to me, not to any of us, if we’re being honest. He’s only ever interested in results—what we can offer him, not what we need.”
His mouth twists, something sharp flickering behind his eyes.
“If you’re hoping he’d take a request from me seriously, he won’t.
He never does. And between us?” He huffs out a humorless sound.
“He’ll fall in line with whatever Councilor Willshire decides.
They usually vote as a pair. Same interests. Same agenda.”
The words land like a punch.
Of course, Councilor West would follow Atticus’s father. The one Councilor who’s made it perfectly clear that he wants me gone.
My throat burns as I swallow. For a second, I let myself imagine what it will feel like if Maddox is right—if everything comes down to him.
And I realize this is worse than I thought. As it stands, I will not win over the Councilors.
***
The sun hits my face like a rare gift—warm, golden, almost mocking—as I lean back against the fountain, stewing in the bitter truth of my exile.
Holly is sprawled beside me, boots kicked off, grin sharp and wicked.
Brix teeters on the fountain rim like it’s a circus act, somehow looking ridiculous and impressive at the same time. The courtyard hums with lazy chatter.
Holly flicks a pebble into the water, eyes locked on me, dripping mischief.
“So,” she drawls, tilting her head, “Atticus yesterday? Looked like someone poured a bucket of lemon juice down his throat when Brix slid his arm around you. I swear, I thought he’d implode right there. Face was priceless.”
I can’t help the smirk tugging at my lips. “Yeah, yeah, keep talking. You’re gonna make me laugh… or punch him.”
Holly laughs, elbow nudging mine. Brix nearly slips from the fountain’s edge, laughing.
“I wasn’t even trying that hard! Just a smile here, a wink there—next thing you know, the King of Pride Rock is glaring holes through me.”
Holly sits up straighter, eyes glittering. “Oh, he was beyond glaring. He was recalculating your death in six different ways. I almost felt bad for you, Brix. Almost.”
I roll my eyes, but I can’t help smiling. “You two are impossible. Why do I feel like I’m the entertainment instead of the victim of this little experiment?”
“Because you are,” Holly shoots back, laughing. “And trust me, it’s working. He doesn’t even realize he’s glaring until you catch him, and then he looks away like he didn’t just stab Brix fifty times in his head.”
Brix clutches his chest in mock agony. “I live for it. Honestly, I’m doing a public service. Exposing Atticus’s hidden jealous streak for the world to see.”
I shove him as he hops down from the fountain rim. “You’re going to break your leg.”
“Maybe,” he smirks, “but at least I’ll have my fake girlfriend to take care of me.”
Holly leans back again, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“Oh, please. He’s not going to break his sudden stoic streak and put on a jealous showdown for the entire academy to see.
He cares about his precious reputation too much for that.
Atticus is just going to smolder and brood and maybe—just maybe—realize he likes you a little more than he’s ready to admit. ”
Heat creeps up my cheeks before I can stop it, and Holly notices.
Of course she does. And of course, my brain decides now is the perfect time to remind me that even after everything he’s done, just thinking about him can still make me feel… like this.
“But he’s not getting a second chance? Right?” She directs the question to me with some concern.
I lean back against the cool stone sighing, “Of course not. Not after what he has put me through. Honestly, the bond feels done with him too.”
And I won’t be here much longer for it to matter. The thought penetrates through the cheerful chatter around me.
Cleo’s sharp eyes catch the shift in my face before I can smooth it over.
“What’s wrong?” She asks, nudging my knee with hers.
I hesitate, then let out a breath. “I saw Maddox yesterday. He said the potion… it’s probably not going to work. He doesn’t think he can do it. And… he doesn’t think his father will advocate for me either.”
The laughter cuts off mid-chuckle. Cleo’s frown is sharp, no-nonsense as always. “You’re not going to like this, but we need a Plan B. Time’s not on our side.”
My stomach twists. “A Plan B?”
“A bond,” she whispers. “It might be time to try another one.”
I shake my head before she’s even finished.
“With who? Alexi? He’s a walking predator, and it wouldn’t even work—Lusts don’t bond. Maylo? He’s a psychopath. I wouldn’t even know where to start with him. Or where to find him. He’s never here.”
The words scrape out of me. “That just leaves…”
“The professor,” Holly finishes.
I bite my lip. “Out of the three, he’s… the least terrible option. At least we have a rapport, even if it’s professional.”
Cleo crosses her arms. “Professional or not, he’s noticed you, and he keeps you supplied with books. He always has one ready for you. Maybe he just needs a push.”
“She’s right,” Tabby agrees. “He probably feels like he can’t approach you in that way, being your teacher. But he’s protected your secret. If he wanted you gone, he could’ve admitted the bond to the Dean. But he hasn’t.”
“It’s risky,” Holly mutters, glancing around the courtyard fountain as if someone might be listening.
“Everything is risky,” Cleo says. “But the alternative is worse. We’ll think about it tonight. Just… keep it in your back pocket.”
I nod. It’s an option—one I don’t know if I can follow through with. My chest feels heavy just thinking about it.
I keep putting myself out there, trying to appeal to these people, and the rejection stings. Especially from my unfinished bonds. What if he takes the books away?
That’s when I spot Maddox striding across the courtyard, students jumping out of the way. An idea forms. Before I can second-guess myself, I jump up from the fountain.
“Go get ’em,” Holly teases behind me, but I’m already weaving through students.
“Maddox—wait!” I grab his sleeve and tug him toward one of the stone archways, out of the flow of bodies. We’re half-hidden, though it feels like every eye in the courtyard is on us.
I’m sure the sinless nobody pulling the scariest student in the school aside for a chat was not on their bingo card.
He raises an eyebrow, suspicion already etched on his face. “You look guilty before you’ve even said anything. Should I be worried?”
My palms are slick, my throat tight. “I—uh—I know you’re still working on the main potion, but…
in the meantime…” I bite the inside of my cheek, forcing a smirk I don’t feel.
“Do you have something else? Something that could… loosen me up a bit? Make me… you know… more… noticeable. Attractive. Sexy.”
The word feels like swallowing glass. I can feel my face burning. I’d rather be fighting several venomous cobras than asking this question right now.
Maddox blinks, then coughs out a laugh. “You’re asking me for a love-potion knockoff? Arwen, seriously?”
Heat spikes in my cheeks. “Not like that! I just… need something to stop me from being… stiff. More confident. I’m… awkward, okay? Sexy isn’t exactly my forte. I just need a little… edge.”
He studies me, suspicion replacing amusement. “It’s easy. I could make one in a day. But why? Don’t say it’s for studying. What are you planning to use this for?”
I glance away, fighting the urge to bolt. “It’s for a good reason, alright? It might help me avoid getting expelled and exiled.” I lean in, lowering my voice. “You owe me, Maddox. For all the tutoring, for covering your ass in faction politics. Who’s going to bail you out next year if I’m gone?”
He pinches the bridge of his nose, muttering under his breath, then sighs. “You’re insufferable when you’re manipulative.”
“So you'll do it?” I ask, my voice too desperate, eyes too wide.
“Fine.” He looks me dead in the eye, tone sharp and final. “But one condition, Arwen.”
My heart skips. “…What?”
“You don’t use it with Atticus. He’s not trustworthy, Arwen. I’ve seen you around him. He’s his father’s puppet.” His voice is low, unyielding. “Whoever you’re trying to impress or manipulate, leave him out of it.”
I freeze, scrambling for a smile. “Why would I—”
“Promise me.” His gaze locks on mine, unblinking.
The lump in my throat almost chokes me. Does he know about the bond? At least this promise is easy. “I promise. He’s the last person I would use it on, anyway.”
Maddox gives me one last searching look, like he’s looking for lies, before stepping back into the tide of students.
I let out a shaky breath, my pulse still racing.