"Shut up," Amelia shot back, but there was no venom in it.
I looked at my Triad.
Rhett, who wasn't growling at anyone. He was actually laughing at a joke a werewolf from the football team had made.
Kai, who was talking to the gardening club about soil pH, his hands animated as he described the benefits of composting.
Lucien, who was standing in a beam of sunlight streaming through the stained glass windows. He wasn't hiding in the shadows. He was drinking cider and watching me.
We had fought for this.
Not for glory. Not for power.
We had fought for the right to be boring. For the right to stand in a hall and eat rubbery quiche without looking over our shoulders.
"Hey," Rhett said, wrapping an arm around my waist. He smelled like soap and contentment. "You know what this means?"
"What?"
"No more classes. No more Deans. No more wars."
"Just us?" I asked.
"Just us," he promised. "And summer break."
I looked at the exit.
The heavy oak doors were open. Outside, the sun was shining. The snow from Marrow's artificial winter had melted, leaving the campus green and gold.
"Let's go," I said.
"Where?" Lucien asked, joining us.
"Anywhere," I smiled. "As long as it's far away from here."
"I have a place," Lucien said. "My family has a villa. On the coast. It's secluded. It has a beach. And it has a very strict 'No Glitter' policy."
"Perfect," I said.
We walked out of the Great Hall.
We left the speeches. We left the politics. We left the weight of the world behind us.
We walked into the sun.
30
The beach house was perfect.
It was small, with weathered gray shingles that had been battered by a hundred winters. It perched on a cliff overlooking the Atlantic, surrounded by dunes of seagrass that whispered in the wind. It was three hours away from Northcrest. It had no wifi. It had no neighbors.
And, most importantly, it had a strict "No Glitter" policy.
"Okay," Rhett announced, dropping four heavy duffel bags on the hardwood floor with a thud.
The wolf shifter stretched, his spine cracking audibly. He was wearing shorts and a t-shirt that saidNice Guards Inc.(Stone had sent them as a parting gift). He looked terrifyingly relaxed.
"House Rules," Rhett declared, ticking them off on his fingers. "Rule number one: No talking about deans, evil or otherwise. Rule number two: No talking about magic, unless it involves refilling my drink. Rule number three: If you see a glitter bomb, you bury it in the sand and we deny everything."
