“I like Heathen better. It suits you more,” he replies. Elongated canines peek beneath the edges of his unkind smile.
I’ve heard stories about certain dark wielders who dug just a little too deep into the darkness and lost human aspects of themselves. It strips something from them. It tears away the tether that connects them to their humanity, piece by piece, until they’re more animal than man.
It gives him an even more lethal edge to his already deviant, unapproachable appearance.
I click my tongue, trying to appear unimpressed. “You know,” I say casually, “you feel familiar for some reason.”
He raises an eyebrow, not rising to the bait.
“It’s almost like I’ve hated you in more than just one lifetime,” I say, my tone calm but just taunting enough to push for a reaction.
He doesn’t give me one. The bastard is unflappable.
He smirks without saying a word, just enough to provoke me.
I narrow my eyes at him, imagining all the ways I want to cause him bodily harm, before slowly turning back around. How this man causes my ire to rise so effortlessly is beyond me. I’m usually better at letting the bullshit roll off my shoulders.
We don’t even know each other for goodness sake.
I rub my temples and pray for patience. At least we don’t have to partner up today.
We go over a few sections in the book before she proceeds to explain how shadow wielding comes from within the cortex of our being. Basically, the dark energy that we consist of creates vibrations through electromagnetic fields and gamma brainwaves, resulting in shadows. The formula of numbers and letters on the board is the supposed key to finding our footing and getting the process started.
In other words, I have absolutely no fucking idea what’s going on.
Chapter fourteen
The rest of the day is pretty uneventful.
Finnley and I sit through Ruins and Wards together with matching thousand-yard stares. I wasn’t able to join Mallory and Mayline in Apothecary, one of the few mixed classes where Veils and Noctryns attend together. There was a slight mix-up in my schedule that had to be adjusted.
I use the termmixedlightly, as the latter sits on one side and the Veils on the other.
The rest of our classes were canceled for the day due to the Blood Initiation Ceremony, which is the formal name for our commencement ceremony. The final step in pledging our lives and powers to Salaryan. No one but those who have already experienced it knows exactly what to expect during the ritual beyond the obvious. Blood will be taken from each first-year. It’s a big event at Kintoira Academy, and all the upperclassmen are supposed to attend in full battle gear. I’m guessing that’s somekind of way to dress formally for the event, but that hasn’t been confirmed.
After we swear fealty by blood, we are fully locked in.
Forever indebted to the realm.
Servants for battle.
I glance down at myself. The gray uniform hangs loosely and unflattering on my frame. I look about as threatening as a midge, probably less dangerous. The woman staring back at me looks so young with her wide-angled eyes full of hesitation and hope. How can I look one way but feel an entirely different way?
I feel so much older than what my reflection offers.
My hands remain steady as I smooth down the front of my shirt before sliding my arms into the coal-colored robe. I carefully pull the hood up and over my head. The door shuts quietly behind me, and the only sound heard is the lock clicking into place.
Can’t be too careful these days. They may not trust me, but I don’t trust them either.
I make my way down the hall, flittering between passing students and keeping my eyes averted. I told Finnley and Mallory that I’d meet them in the main lobby, and we could walk to the ceremonial hall together. I was able to see Ambrose during lunch, but his attention was diverted in multiple directions by people in his bracket. It’s like someone always needs him for something, a problem always needs to be resolved, and he’s the only one who can do it. I won’t be able to see him again before the ceremony.
He’s in his officer’s class now, and they never get released early. Ever.
I was hoping to have a little more time with him without distractions, but it doesn’t seem to be on today’s agenda.
Same story, different day.
The stairwell is tight as I squeeze through students coming and going. I keep my head down as I shuffle through them. As soon as my feet hit the landing, I make my way to the far corner of the foyer and sink into an antique-looking chair lined with awful green velvet fabric.
