“Not yet,” I teased.
She blushed. “Honestly, Emma. It’s like mating is all that’s on your mind.”
“Hey, spring is on its way,” I suggested. Which was very true. People were bonding left and right. After Valentine’s Day hit, there were a ton of couples cozied up around the school. Why none of my friends had bonded yet, when their mates were right in front of them, was still a mystery.
Or maybe not. Delmare knew she had bonded— she was just afraid of getting hurt. Odette didn’t realize she had bonded with Theo and was distracted by another alicorn.
Kiara... couldn’t quite say. Maybe she was still unsure. Something I understood. I’d walked around all last semester believing I couldn’t possibly be bonded to Ethan, when the truth was plain to see.
I skimmed my fingers over the blade before me, tracing the patterns of running wolves. I took a deep breath and focused on the powers nesting inside my belly. I commanded my illusion magic to rise. It fought me, refusing to leave my chest.
My magic had been weak ever since I’d gotten a cold, and I was still trying to recover. It’d been three weeks now, and I wasn’t completely better. I still had a cough and felt tired from time to time. As someone with CVID, it took me forever to feel normal whenever I got sick. I’d been to the doctor, but he insisted there was nothing left to do but give it time.
Give it time. Huh. Give it time until I caught something else, I bet.
My magic wavered, then finally, I felt it flow. It went through my heart, down my arm and into the sword. As I trailed my hand down the blade, I could feel the magic waiting there as it thrummed throughout the sword.
Lodburzanwas an excellent weapon. I’d placed a large amount of my magic into the blade, and there was still plenty of room to spare for more. Ethan had taken great care forging this sword for me.
Still, the effort made me exhausted. Professor Calliope eyed me, as if she wanted me to try again, but didn’t force it when she saw how tired I was. My professors had been informed of my condition. I’d signed up in the Disability Office last semester when I got here and had forms delivered to all of them alerting them to my condition.
The only professor I truly regretted knowing was Lady Korva. She’d find a way to use my illness against me.
“Emma, are you okay? Your skin’s so pale,” Kiara said. Her attention drew away from the dagger to focus on me.
I caught my breath and forced out a joke. “I’m a ginger. I’m always pale, girl.”
Kiara didn’t believe me, but she didn’t press either. She turned her focus back to the dagger, though her eyes kept flickering my way.
I hadn’t told her about my disease yet. There was no reason to hide it from her, or any of my friends, but I still worried they wouldn’t look at me the same way. So I was trying to pretend I was normal for as long as I could— even though it was obvious I wouldn’t be able to conceal it for much longer.
“Do you want me to take your sword back to your dorm? I can grab our textbooks,” Kiara offered when class ended. I was wavering on my feet.
Kiara, Delmare and I were supposed to get together for a study session in the library. I had to go back to my dorm before then, but honestly, I didn’t know if I could make the walk there and back.
“That would be great,” I told her in relief. “Meet you there?”
Kiara nodded. She took my sword, then started down the hallway.
My gut churned in guilt. Kiara knew there was something wrong with me. I was doing a shitty job of hiding it, yet still, she wanted to help.
I had to get over it and tell her. Tell all of them.
I headed to the girls’ lavatory, to splash some cold water on my face. Maybe it would help.
Like the rest of Arcanea University, the bathrooms were beautiful. Wooden stalls, elaborate floor length mirrors and carpet floors made up the room, with special vanities for girls to put on their makeup. Every time I had to piss, I felt like a movie star.
There was one other girl in here, hiding in one of the stalls. As I was washing my face, I heard someone wretch.
I turned the water off and paused. It sounded like someone was gagging.
“Are you okay?” I asked, and the vomiting stopped. I wiped off my face with one of the hand towels before I knocked on the stall door.
The door opened. Bashfully, Odette emerged from the stall, a paleness in her cheeks.
Worry flooded over me and took over my veins like ice. I couldn’t tell the group about my CVID right now. We had bigger problems.
“Odette,” I started as she wiped her mouth with her sleeve. Her uniform, which had fit her perfectly at the start of the semester, sagged off one shoulder, exposing a bony arm.
