Around the room, students exchange glances, some horrified, others intrigued. No one challenges the headmistress of Serpentine Academy, or a Wickersly. Everyone knows that. But here I am, doing exactly that.
I continue before she can speak. “You can serve as headmistress. We need someone to run the academy, and to be fair, you’re actually decent at that. But you will not have absolute control. Not anymore.”
Victoria’s lips thin into a tight line. “And what alternative do you suggest, Miss Smith?”
I hadn’t gotten that far in my impromptu rebellion, but the answer comes to me as if it had been there all along. “A democratically elected board should govern Serpentine Academy. Students, faculty, and yes, coven representatives. But no one person makes all the decisions.”
Victoria waves her hand dismissively. “You have no power here, Rose Smith.”
“And Ash stays on as overseer,” I add, not even looking back at him. I can feel his surprise through the blood mark. “Until the board can be elected.”
Now Victoria’s amusement fades completely. “And what gives you the right to make such demands?” Her voice drips with condescension. “You’re a mere student, a bound witch, still shackled by the blood contract. You have no authority here.”
She keeps going.
“Without my intervention, you’d be dead on this floor, and my bad seed of a sister would be dining on your heart.” She takes a step toward me. “Without a coven of your own, you have no standing in our world, Miss Smith. A witch without a coven is like a limb without a body. Useless. Powerless.”
I should back down. Every instinct screams at me to shut up and survive. But I’m tired of just surviving.
“I don’t need a coven,” I respond, lifting my chin. “I have a family.”
I don’t look back, but I can feel them all behind me. Drake, who chose love over revenge after a century of isolation. Lucien,who’s broken with his strict traditions to stand with me. Soren, who’s discovered there’s more to existence than feeding and forgetting. And Ash, who’s fighting against generations of hatred and bitterness to find something better.
“These men?” Victoria scoffs. “A ghost, a vampire, an incubus, and a warlock who’s lost most of his coven? That’s your idea of power?”
I close my eyes, focusing on the natural magic that flows through me. It’s stronger now, more responsive. I hold out my hand. “Hank. Come.”
There’s a brief moment where nothing happens, and I wonder if my little familiar has decided this is a bad time to show up. But then I feel the weight of Hank on my shoulder. He settles there, staring at Victoria.
“My familiar, too,” I say, trying not to smile at how ridiculously inadequate this must look. Me, beaten and bloodied, with a frog on my shoulder, facing down Victoria Wickersly.
“So impressive. A frog.”
Hank, bless him, chooses this moment to let out a particularly loud “RIBBIT” that echoes through the Great Hall.
“Galanthis,” Victoria says coolly. The black cat at her feet stands, stretching, then slinks forward, tail high in the air.
My heart sinks. This is about to turn into some kind of familiar showdown, and I’m pretty sure the cat is going to eat my frog.
But Hank, either very brave or very stupid, hops down from my shoulder and lands on the floor with a soft plop. He sits there, staring at Galanthis, completely unintimidated.
Galanthis approaches, nose twitching. For a terrible moment, I think he’s about to pounce. Instead, he sniffs at Hank, then backs away with what can only be described as the cat equivalent of a look of horror. He hisses, then scampers back to Victoria’s feet, refusing to get any closer to my frog.
I try not to laugh. I really do. But the absurdity of this standoff with Victoria, the most powerful witch at the academy, being undermined by her own familiar’s apparent fear of frogs, is too much.
Victoria’s eyes flash. “You find this amusing, Miss Smith? Let me assure you, nothing about your situation is funny. You and your so-called family can no more govern this academy than that frog can defeat my familiar in a fight.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Soren drawls from behind me. “The frog seems to be winning so far.”
“Enough,” Victoria snaps. “This is not a democracy, Miss Smith. This is a magical institution with centuries of tradition. Traditions that have kept us safe and powerful.”
“Safe?” I gesture around the destroyed Great Hall. “Powerful?” I point to where Jasmine met her end. “Those traditions almost got us all killed. Those traditions let Jasmine murder and eat students. How many kids have to die before you admit the system is broken?”
I see a brief hesitation in Victoria’s eyes. But it’s gone quickly.
“You will never control your own power,” she says, her voice softening so there is no mistaking the note of pity. “Let alone this academy. The blood contract ensures that. Even now, bound to the Blood Moon Coven through Ash, your magic is not truly yourown. It never will be. And since the covens have merged, I am now the leader, and I decide what happens to your magic.”
My shoulders sag slightly. She’s right. As long as the blood contract exists, my magic, my life force, my very being is tied to someone else. I’ll never be free to make my own choices, not completely.
