Page 75 of Lost and Bound

“No, Orion.” I move out of his protection, ready to argue that he should let it be.

He looks down at me, and that burn in my chest returns. I don’t hide my emotions from him because I can’t. His voice drops low, but not so low that the others can’t hear. “I’m not letting anyone steal your sunshine. You’re a breath of fresh air, May-May. A welcome one. It’s been stale here for a while. Come on.”

He drops his hand to the small of my back and pushes me away from the drama. I try to twist around again, but he silences my argument with a playful scowl. “Nope, don’t want to hear it. I need food.”

I don’t get time to process Orion’s words or actions because he shuts me down each time my mouth opens, but also the ladies behind the counter are waiting. Thankfully, tonight it’s the same staff as usual in our section, and they greet us warmly.

Our station is overflowing, and there’s so much to choose from. As usual, it’s mostly white or light-colored food. I take a slice of the mushroom pie I’ve had before and mashed potatoes because it would be criminal not to have some at each meal.

Orion leans in. “Get some of the fish too. It’s northern pike, caught locally. It is always good.”

“Just a little, please.” I hold my plate up as the server picks up a piece, but I shake my head, pointing at a piece half the size. “No offense, but how can you fill up on fish when you have the option of white cake!”

The lady smiles as she switches pieces of fish before she disappears for a moment, coming back with the biggest slice of cake I’ve ever seen. “You’ve got your priorities straight. Just be careful, supposedly our white cake isn’t white enough.” She flicks her head in the direction of the celestials.

“How sacrilegious of you,” I say, amusing myself with my cheesy pun.

She laughs but doesn’t say another word.

“I’m sorry, but that is the best and whitest white cake I have ever seen. Trust me, I’ve seen a few. At the community center, we used to have a cake competition. Anyway,”—I stop rambling and slow down, looking her in the eye—“thank you.”

She blushes like Myles did, but where he looked guilty as sin, the color on her cheeks makes her smile brighter. “You’re welcome.”

When she leaves me to serve someone else, her smile stays in place, making me happy. It also makes me question these beings at Thales, are they ever thankful or grateful?

Orion and I barely sit-down, and we definitely don’t get the chance to say a word before our dinner is interrupted.

“Settle down,” a voice echoes through the dining hall.

I startle, making Orion smirk. He’s constantly entertained by me being me.

He kicks my foot but barely moves his mouth or makes a sound as he says, “Didn’t you see the message?”

“What message?”

“The one you obviously didn’t see. What were you doing at their house instead of looking at the message board?” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

“Not that!” I hiss back, kicking his foot.

It’s hard having a semi-heated conversation without looking like you’re talking, but we manage.

“Why do you look guilty, then? You know sex is normal, right? Mixed species hook up all the time.”

I’m saved from having to reply when two of the Thales faculty take to the stage, wearing their formal regalia. Their purple and green robes billow out, signaling the arrival of my two least favorite teachers.

“It’s good to see everyone survived both the lockdown and the feeble attempt at a strike by our enemy.” Magikster Ballin’s aura radiates the same contained rage as his voice.

He holds the attention of the crowd in the palm of his hand. I know firsthand that he enjoys the spectacle of an audience, and the way he stands as he sweeps his eyes from one side of the room to the other confirms it. He smiles—it’s the first time I’ve seen him do anything other than scowl—but it’s not a happy one. It’s sinister, making him appear even more villainous.

“I assure you, in our eyes, the lockdown was the greater risk. Council is aware of what occurred with the Legion, and your families and guardians have been informed. As we told them, Thales has in place some of the strongest defensive shields in Quin-state. Despite the Legion managing to breach our wards, they did not truly test the foundation of our security.”

There’s a slowly rising energy that gathers as it moves through the dining hall. The magiks, perhaps the most sensitive to the Magikster’s manipulation, rise the fastest, applauding his victory speech. Eventually other designations join those wearing purple until there’s a thundering applause and cheering so loud it reminds me of the final game of playoffs.

His hands rise and the noise stops, like he flicked a switch.

“That is all the airtime we will give them. We don’t fear the Legion, nor do we respect them.”

There’s a murmur of agreement, but he silences the crowd with another wave of his hand before he surprises me by announcing his colleague. “Alpha Roberts, over to you.”