Page 25 of Bone Year

I look up then look down at his hand.

“Don’t touch me,” I say evenly. “I don’t have anything else to say to you, or your tiny tip.”

I peel his hand off, glance at him once for emphasis, then turn and walk away.

“You don’t want to make an enemy out of me, Red,” he calls.

I don’t look back. Guess I made my first enemy.

So far, Ashwell has a headmaster who seems determined to break me and a blood year with a sense of entitlement and boundary issues. Fun.

I head back to the food table, grab a few more pieces of cheese, and shove them into my mouth. As I scan the room, a flash of light pink catches my eye.

I make a beeline for Lux.

“It’s supposed to be some kind of test,” a girl with black wings and violet eyes says from across the table, “an early way to see who’s going to cut it and who’s going to choke. The upperclassmen spend the party sizing everyone up and taking bets.”

“I heard the professors are even in on it,” another girl adds, this one with short dark hair and a scar across her chin. Her eyes slide to Lux. “Didn’t your father tell you anything? He had to have given you a little advantage.”

“What are you talking about?” I cut in.

“These two think tonight’s some kind of test for first years,” Lux says lightly, though her grip on her glass tightens.

If so, I’m glad I only had one sip of that awful drink earlier.

“What kind of test? Not all the bone years even came tonight.” I scan the crowd, counting quickly. “Maybe half of them.”

The girl with violet eyes shrugs, her wings shifting subtly against her back. “That makes it easier.”

“Come on,” Lux says, looping her arm through mine and steering us away from the table. “If they’re right, I probably shouldn’t indulge any more than I already have.” She sets her glass on a stone ledge as we stop near the wall.

My attention drifts again to the corner of the room. The guy with the man bun and honey-gold eyes still leans against the wall, scrutinizing the crowd. His eyes lift to mine, catching me looking.

“Hey,” I say quietly, nodding in his direction, “do you know who that is?”

Lux glances over my shoulder and snorts. “That’s Draven Alucard. He’s hot, he’s a vampire, and he’s a complete dick. Don’t waste your time.”

I look back at him, curiosity prickling. “How do you know him?”

Her smile turns sharp. “You like him.”

“No,” I say quickly, clearing my throat, “ I saw him in the courtyard earlier. He had a massive wolf with him that nearly took my head off.”

Lux’s expression shifts. “Yeah, I heard his father is high up at one of the other academies, Vanguard War Academy in the Shadowlands.”

I blink. “There are other academies?”

“Well, not like Ashwell,” she says. “This is the only healing academy, the only core-driven current one too. The others specialize in other things.”

“Like what?”

She leans back against the wall, fingers adjusting the laces of her corset. “War, hunting, law, exploration, things like that, but Ashwell’s considered superior.”

The fae lights overhead flicker, shifting abruptly from violet to stark white. The sudden brightness kills off any last conversations. The asshole blood year guy from earlier climbs onto a chair near the center or the cavern, drawing every eye in the room.

“For those of you who don’t know me,” he says, voice carrying easily over the sudden hush, “I’m Malric. I’ll be your official orchestrator of this year’s initiation.”

A ripple of low murmurs spreads through the crowd. Malric basks in the attention. His gaze sweeps the room slowly until it lands on me. A wicked smile curls across his face, and my throat tightens.