Three

Kahlan's POV

  I still had Aunt Mae's tea in my stomach when Derek, daddy-dearest, drove through the academy gates. The moment I passed through those gates, it felt like my reality was altered.

  The lore of Ravenside did not announce itself with banners, a red carpet, or a trumpet, no. Rather, it let its structure do the talking.

  "Impressed?" Derek asked, smoothening his coat in the ways of a gentleman.

  "Mmn," I glanced at the iron gates that looked like it had beasts carved into them. "Not bad for a school practically in the middle of nowhere."

  "We're not in the middle of nowhere." He tapped on the car door and it automatically slid open. He then stepped out and gestured for me to alight.

  “Then what is the name of this place, specifically?”

  "Why?" He chuckled. "You plan to run away sometime soon?"

  "Even if I did, Aunt Mae would most likely bring me back."

  He turned back for a split second and snapped his fingers, the film-like barrier behind us immediately sealed itself.

  "Well if you must know, we are in the supernatural realm, the location of these woods bear the same name as the academy itself. And outside plus within these borders, are home to the four clans. This school is located at the center of all intersecting pathways."

  "So, a literal middle ground?"

  He laughed again.

  "Cracking jokes now, are we?" He tapped on the iron gates thrice and then pulled on them. "Come, let's get you settled into Ravenside."

  Reade

  The gates opened like some medieval beast baring its teeth. Whatever Derek wanted me to see, he wasn’t exaggerating, it wasn’t the Hogwarts knockoff I had joked about.

  The campus stretched wider than I would have ever envisioned, with stone towers that looked older than time itself. Students crossed the cobbled paths in groups, laughing and chattering.

  They weren’t in uniforms, thank God, but their clothes looked casually expensive, leather boots, dark coats, flashes of silver jewelry, and prim-proper grace.

  Shit, I only ever attended public schools.

  I swallowed hard. My hoodie and ripped jeans suddenly felt like charity rags.

  “Don’t gawk too much,” Derek said beside me, as if reading my thoughts. “You’ll draw the wrong kind of attention.”

  I snorted. “What attention could be worse than having a stalker-dad who dragged me here against my will?”

  He didn’t even blink. “You’ll see.”

  When we stopped in front of the main hall, I stepped out.

  Inside, Ravenside looked nothing like the gloomy exterior suggested. Chandeliers of floating glass shards hung above, reflecting light across polished marble floors. Really impressive.

  “Orientation week,” Derek said with a faint smile, hands clasped behind his back like he owned the place. “Every new generation here thinks they’re ready to tear the world apart. They usually aren’t.”

  “Sounds inspiring,” I muttered.

  That’s when he pulled something from his coat pocket. A chain with a red stone that glowed faintly like it was alive.

  He held it out to me. “This is yours.”

  I raised a brow. “What is this, an early birthday gift? Because, spoiler alert, I don’t do daddy-daughter bonding Jewelry"

  His lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “It’s not for sentiment. It is practical. An anchor is more like.”

  “Anchor?”

  “For what is inside you.” His eyes slid to my gloved hands. “To contain your triggers, to make your touch safer. We don’t want you accidentally un-aliving someone, now do we?”

  Jeez Derek, not like I didn't already have enough nightmares about Callahan's death.

  I looked at the pendant, then at him. “And you think this rock will fix me?”

  “You aren't damaged, you just need to learn how to hone your abilities properly. In the meantime, this will help.”

  "Okay."

  He snapped his fingers sharply.

  "Do not take it off, except completely necessary or by supreme order, not until you can do without it."

  I wanted to laugh in his face, but my palms were sweating. Reluctantly, I took it and slipped it around my neck. The moment the stone touched my skin, the humming in my blood quit.

  “Better, Khalan?” Derek asked softly.

  I hated that he was right.

  He chuckled and gestured behind me telling someone to come forward

  A female voice came from behind me, small and cute. "Hi, Sir."

  "Freya here will show you around," Derek said, and to be honest I'm grateful he wasn't trying to play the part of my father right now. Fixing me was more important right now.

  "I'll see you around," he added, then left.

  "Hi, I'm Freya. I'm a second-year student and a witch and you are ?"

  "Khalan. First-year. A rider."

  Her eyes went wide, and she stared at me as if I'd just slapped her. "What?"

  "Staring is a bit rude," I replied.

  "No, that's not it. It's just... you're almost as petite as I am. Most riders are more fit, especially since it's a kind of a 50/50 thing..."

  She cut off as we rounded a corner and someone bumped into me, spilling their drink. "I'm so sorry!" they said.

  "It's fine," I replied immediately.

  "The bathroom is right over there. I'll wait here," Freya said, pointing to a door. I went inside and shut the door behind me.

  This whole situation felt insane. Werewolves. Vampires. Witches. And dragons. Actual, freaking dragons. I thought, aggressively wiping the stain with a paper towel.

  Why are you still surprised? Your touch literally kills people.

  The voice in my head was a familiar torment. I tossed the towel in the bin and pulled out my phone to text Aunt Mae, but there was no reception. Great.

  The minute I stepped out, I saw Freya backed against a wall by a guy at least three times her size, his frame completely covering her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear. Her eyes went wide, and she tried to break free, but he held her fast. The memory of the night with Cahalln flashed through my mind.

  "Let her go!" I shouted, but he completely ignored me.

  I'm not much of a fighter, but video evidence always works. I pulled out my phone and hit record. The jerk didn't even flinch. I tried to zoom in on his face, but someone else blocked my view completely.

  "Hand it over," a deep voice rumbled. I dropped my phone and stared at his chest, then tipped my head back to meet a pair of cold, grey eyes.

  I took a step back, my back hitting the wall. My heart hammered in my chest. He was all power and muscle.

  "I said, hand it over," he repeated, his gaze dropping to my phone.

  "No," I said, my voice barely a whisper. It came out weaker than I intended.

  "No?" he drawled, and my thighs clenched.

  "If you want it, you’ll have to take it yourself," I said with more force than necessary , I could feel hands trembling as I unbuttoned my shirt and shoved the phone into my bra.

  There’s no way he’ll actually do it.

  No way. 

  But he didn’t even blink. He looked bored, at best.

  Then he stepped closer, and I pressed myself harder against the wall, because at this point all I could see, smell, and feel was him. Smoke, leather, and a hint of mint clung to him.

  "Is that supposed to bother me?" he asked. His voice was low, steady.

  My heartbeat was still going too fast but I forced the words out anyway. "Yes. I dare you to take it if you can."

  For a second, I thought I’d won. Then I felt heat creep up my neck as his fingers traced the lace of my bra, teasingly slow, deliberate. A shiver ran through me before I could stop it.

  His eyes locked on mine, cold grey with a sudden flash of molten gold.

  And then, with effortless calm, he pulled the phone free, tapped a few buttons, and pressed it back into my palm as if none of it mattered.

  He straightened to his full height and walked away, without even so much as looking back.

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

  Who the hell was that?