INICIAR SESIÓNMrs. Humphrey shakes her head. “Mr. Quinnell was caught snooping in my office. I suspect he intended to smuggle out my rare herbs earlier, as his pockets were stuffed with them.” She levels a knowing look at us. “Inform Mr. Quinnell that if he has a problem, he should come to me directly. I will gladly assist him. Stealing is unnecessary.”I gape at my friends. “Nate stole? For what?”“No matter,” Mrs. Humphrey sighs. “I made the consequences clear and had a guard escort him out. I could have issued a harsher punishment, like detention, but I sympathize with your circumstances and chose leniency this time. However, Mr. Quinnell chose to attack a guard. I cannot let that slide.”“Where is he?” I ask, the worry tightening my throat.“He is in the history department polishing trophies and scrubbing floors.” Mrs. Humphrey peers at the massive clock mounted across from her office door, then smiles. “His shift ends now. I suggest you have a talk with your friend and explain that such aggres
Hailey.I pace the same corridors for a third time, my boots clicking a frantic rhythm against the stone. I search every corner and doorway again, my frustration building into a cold knot. I turn the final corner of the hallway and nearly slam into Celeste.“Where were you?” I demand, my fingers locking around her forearms to steady us both. “Luca and I have been looking everywhere for you. We’ve been looking for Nate, too.”Celeste blinks, her head tilting in confusion. “I was with Halle. Again. Homework help, remember? Lenny assigned me to help her catch up.”I process the information, and the tension in my shoulders slips. My hands drop to my sides, and a heavy sigh escapes me. “Sorry. With everything going on, I panicked, and I—”“Hey.” She swoops forward and pulls me into a brief, tight hug. The scent of old books and vanilla clings to her sweater. “It’s okay. I get it.” She pulls back, a teasing grin tugging at her lips. “You really worried about me that much?”I snort. “I think
I glance at the clock, checking the time. I’m due for another blocking potion. It’s been exactly twenty-four hours and a few minutes since I last choked one down. I head for my closet, pushing aside the heavy curtain of leather jackets to reach the back shelf. My fingers find the metal storage box, and I flip the lid, pulling out one of the dull, orange vials.I sink back onto my bed and chug the contents. I shudder as the last drop hits my tongue, my face twisting at the medicinal bitterness.You know what would actually help me stop feeling—and taste a hell of a lot better? Bourbon. Or a heavy pour of whiskey. But those come with a side of nasty headaches and a morning spent over the toilet. I can’t afford to be dead to the world until this is sorted and I finally get to connect with my mate.The thought stings.She has no idea who I am.I sigh, tossing the empty vial into the trash can by my desk. I flop back onto my pillows and let my eyelids grow heavy. It doesn’t take long for e
Luca.After a day of back-to-back lessons that felt like wading through chest-deep sludge, I finally retreat toward my room. I’d managed to swing by the cafeteria and charm the staff into packing my dinner in a to-go box—a rare exception to the rules, but I was in no mood to play the part of the social butterfly tonight.Not even for the inner circle.I’m halfway to my door when I spot Nate rounding the corner, laughing at something Adrian is saying.I don’t want the questions.I don’t want the “You okay, man?” looks.I fumbled with my key, the metal scraping against the lock in my rush, and bolt inside just as Nate calls out. I twist the lock, the heavy thud of the deadbolt acting as a temporary barrier between me and the rest of the world.Knocking follows a second later. I ignore it. Eventually, Nate gives up and I can hear his footsteps fading away from my door.I slump onto the edge of my bed and flip open the container. The steam from the lasagna hits me, smelling of rich tomato
She slams her pen onto the desk with enough force to make students jump in their seats. She clears her throat, straightens her spine, and plants her hands on her hips.“As for introductions—which I was getting to until the rude interruptions began—” she scowls in my direction. “I am Mrs. Feltine. The Council selected me to teach you the fine art of Council Politics. Advanced.”She begins to stroll between the rows of desks, her heels clicking sharply against the floor. “It is essential to understand the rules, the structure, and the system of our people. We are here to ensure a safer world for future generations.”She stops abruptly, turning to stare straight at me. “The choices we make today impact what happens tomorrow. Making poor choices in this moment leads to catastrophic destruction.”Luca snorts. “A bit dramatic, don’t you think?”Her gaze zeroes in on him, and she actually smirks. “As you will find out soon enough.”“Is that supposed to be a threat?” Luca asks, his voice drop
The Great Hall smells of burnt toast and damp wool the following morning. The chatter dies the moment the silver trays hit the tables. Instead of extra helpings of bacon, we are handed thin slips of paper at our tables at breakfast by the student council.I stare at one of the headings on my timetable: Advanced Council PoliticsBeside me, Celeste’s fork clatters against her ceramic plate as she sinks into her seat. “We aren’t eighteen,” she snaps, her voice rising until students at the next table turn to look. “This is a senior-year specialty. Why is this on a junior schedule?”Nate pushes his plate away. To my left, the scratching of a pencil is the only other sound. Luca is hunched over his notebook, his dark hair shadowing the pages. His shoulder muscles protrude under his shirt. When Nate reaches out to grab a napkin near Luca’s elbow, Luca bares his teeth.“Don’t,” Luca bites out. The word is a low vibration that makes the milk in my glass ripple.I pick up my schedule again. The







