Chapter 43 #2
“Agreed,” she says, leaning back against the leather seat. “Let’s just get out of here.”
I nod, and as we drive away, I can feel the resolve hardening within me. We’ve seen the best and worst of these schools today, and it leaves us with plenty to ponder, plenty to change. But for now, we have one last stop before we can call it a day.
“Willowshade will be the best one,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else. “I just know it.”
The gates of Willowshade Academy creak open with a melancholic moan, and the sight beyond them pulls my heart into my throat. Crumbling brickwork, patched-up windows, and the somber faces of students who’ve had to grow up too quickly—it’s a world apart from the grandeur of Golden Meadow.
This is fucking bullshit. If we find this in Daybreak, I’m going to murder my father earlier than planned.
“Damn,” Khol mutters next to me, his bad boy facade momentarily slipping in the face of such raw need.
I stride forward, my purple hair catching the light of the waning sun, a stark contrast to the surrounding dullness. My fingers tighten around the neck of my guitar—today, it’s more than an instrument; it’s a lifeline I’m eager to share.
“Prince Revelin,” the headmistress greets, her voice weary but warm. “They’ve been looking forward to your visit.”
“Then I won’t disappoint them,” I say, the smile I offer her tinged with sadness and resolve.
As we tour the threadbare classrooms, I see sparks of brilliance in the students’ eyes. There’s rhythm in their steps, poetry on their lips, and despite everything, hope. It’s an uncommon beauty—one that doesn’t shimmer but endures.
It ignites something fierce within me.
“Music can be freedom,” I tell them, playing chords that resonate through the dilapidated halls, “a voice when you feel unheard.” Their attention is rapt, and for a moment, the decay around us fades away, replaced by the pure joy of music.
Afterward, when I speak to the headmistress again, the words come easy. “I want to help. Allow me to set up a grant for the students—a chance for the talented to soar.”
She clasps my hand, her gratitude a silent vow. “Thank you, Your Highness. This... this means everything.”
We exit the academy to the fading cheers of the students, their voices hauntingly beautiful. The group is quiet as we make our way back to the SUVs, each lost in thought. Fiadh’s jaw is set, Dezi’s brow furrowed, and Tiernan’s gaze lingers on the receding silhouette of the school.
“Did you see their faces?” Fiadh asks, her voice thick. “There’s no justice in this.”
“I’ll fight for them when I have the power, lass,” I assure her, sliding into the SUV, my exhaustion settling like a weight on my shoulders.
“This isn’t just about Amber Hollow—it’s about every place like Willowshade.
I simply have to build enough support to unseat the tyrant preventing me from taking over. ”
“Agreed. If your goal once we solve our mystery is to gain control of your Court,” Dezi says, determination lining his elegant features. “You have our support.”
Just as Tiernan hits the switch to close the armored door, a familiar pop echoes in the confined space of the SUV, and Rowena materializes out of thin air, a sly grin on her lips.
“Hope I’m not interrupting. You called me to appear. I’ve got news for your sad faces, to bring you some cheer!” she chirps, landing on the Prince’s hand with a jaunty wink.
“Rowena!” our mate exclaims, her face lighting up despite the fatigue clouding her amber eyes. “What’s the news from my sister and her grumpy assed men?”
The mischief in my pixie’s eyes fades as we recount the day’s events, her expression turning serious.
She listens intently as we speak of the recent attacks, Amethyst’s questionable behavior, and the whispers of discord among the councils.
Even the lighter moments of our spa day and dinner at Goldgarde are laid bare before her, like pieces of a puzzle we hope she can help solve.
“I’ve taken all the notes, got the pictures, too. I’ll tell the fluffy butt about the witch in fancy dress and the snake in the spa. It’s true.” Rowena nods, scribbling notes in the air with her finger, which shimmer and vanish. “Now, for what I’ve brought you.”
She produces an amulet from the folds of her cloak, holding it out with solemnity. I don't recognize, nor do the other guys, but our mate definitely does.
A sharp intake of breath from the lass draws my gaze; she’s pale, her freckles standing out starkly against her skin.
“It’s just like hers,” she murmurs, lost in the grip of dark memories that flicker behind her eyes—memories of loss, pain, and wild transformation.
“Feray wore an amulet like this every day, from the minute we were little until that stupid ceremony when it broke. That’s when she went wolfy. ”
“Is the amulet upsetting you, or just the past?” I ask gently, reaching out to steady her with a look.
Fiadh doesn’t answer with words. Instead, she reaches out tentatively toward the artifact, Khol’s hand firmly clasped in hers. A spark jumps from the metal to her fingertips, and she jerks back with a hiss, muttering curses under her breath.
“Damn thing’s protected,” she grumbles, weaving a spell with a series of intricate hand gestures. “I hope this works.”
The air crackles with unseen energy as Fiadh works her magic, but the amulet remains silent and still. My brows knit together in frustration. “Someone went to great lengths to keep us from prying. I’ll have to dig deeper, Ro.”
“I know you don’t know who made them yet, but when info comes, give me a call, quick as can be, I’ll help the fluffy butt and her smitten men see what they need to know, no trouble at all!” Rowena’s tone is casual, but her eyes betray her concern.
Taking a deep breath, Fiadh drapes the amulet around her neck; it nestles against her collarbone, hidden beneath Dezi’s collar and her shirt.
“Are you okay?” Dezi asks, watching her closely. “It’s not harming you, is it, witchling? I won’t stand for that, even if I have to carry it myself.”
“I’m fine,” Fiadh assures him, shaking her head slightly. “No burn, just cold metal now.”
“Good. We don’t need more surprises,” he replies, his voice a comforting baritone.
Rowena gives us a mock salute, her face splitting into a grin once more. “I’ll head back to share the info with the rest, but I’ll see you all later. You can count on my best!”
With another pop, she vanishes from the SUV, leaving behind a trace of her scent and a promise of further intrigue.
Fi looks at me with a wry expression. “She’s helpful, but if she was anymore cheery, my teeth were going to rot out.”
That’s my girl.