Page 99 of Revenant

“We just don’t think it’s a coincidence that she’s resurfacing with Alicent’s appearance. It’s also not lost on me that she was conveniently around when the wolf attack happened in town.” Koen’s accusations hit Eldritch in the chest, the underlying meaning of what he’s saying blatantly obvious.

I swing my gaze toward Eldritch, the conclusion making alarm bells blare inside my skull. “Wait. Clara? The woman who was with Lacey? You know her? Are you in cahoots with them? Did you know about the attack?” The accusations come flying out before I can stop them.

“Yes, I know her. No, I didn’t know about the attack until after it happened. Would be foolish of me, really. Given the circumstances,” Eldritch comments, swiping a hand down his face. If Koen was on edge, he hasn’t shown it. But that’s how he moves, calm and calculated, gathering all the information so he knows where to strike.

Immediately I’m on edge, my voice rising an octave. “Someone better start talking because—”

“Have a seat. Both of you,” Eldritch interrupts, gesturing to a couple chairs at the front of the class. Koen moves effortlessly across the room. Meanwhile, my mind is still racing and not totally convinced I can trust him. I try to remind myself that Koen hasn’t ripped his head off yet, so clearly there’s more to the story.

Eldritch takes a deep breath, leaning back against his desk, hands white-knuckled against the edge, the only indication that he’s restraining himself. “Clara is my sister,” he states, anguish in his tone. “She used to work with me, here at Veilcrest, back when this lot were still students… and witches.” I look toward Koen for confirmation, which he gives with a subtle nod of his head. “She’s part of a divine coven now, Sisters of the Reliquary. Their mission is to protect the relics scattered through society, safeguarding humans and keeping the scales of magic balanced.” He gives me a pointed look, and I only have to assume he means people like Veil.

“However, during the stages of admission, you must sacrifice what you love most. You can have no ties that could complicate your mission. And apparently, I was at the top of that category. Shakespearean if you think about it.” He chuckles, but it lacks humor—at least any that isn’t laced in irony. “I’m lucky the lot of them found me when they did. They saved my life for lack of better words. And it pains me to see you think so low of me. To assume I had any knowledge of Clara’s return or the attack cuts deeper than you can imagine.”

Clara killed her own brother to what? Prove herself? That’s brutal. I knew something was off about her the moment we met, and now I know why.

“So what is she doing back?” Koen asks, not accusing so much as thinking out loud. “And why now?”

“I definitely think the attack and Clara’s return are connected. I just don’t know what the purpose of it is.”

“Do you think Reed is also connected to Clara?” I ask, still trying to get all the facts together because, right now, it’s all a jumbled mess.

Koen’s arm rests behind me, his thumb subtly stroking the side of my arm like he’s finding comfort in the connection. “Reed isn’t calculated in that way. Yes, he blindsided us, but from the sounds of it, he didn’t know why they wanted you, just that if he handed you over, he would get his happy ending with Avery. Wolves don’t allow their own kind to abdicate for nothing in return. Regardless,” Koen continues, “we wanted to keep you in the loop. Especially considering the circumstances.”

“Rest assured, if she makes contact, you will be the first I tell,” Leon reassures, and Koen takes it for what it is. An understanding passes between them, and I still feel like there’s more to their story I’m not being told.

The door opens seconds later, letting in a flood of students. They don’t pay us any mind, chatting amongst each other and finding their seats.

Koen and I stand; he moves his hand to the small of my back, offering me as much comfort as he can. “I believe that’s our cue. We’ll pick this up later this evening.”

“This evening?” I question, trying not to cause a scene as I dig my heels into the floor.

“Your night class, Miss Calder. Surely you haven’t forgotten about your extracurricular activities.”

Right. Because I still don’t have control over my powers. I can feel it slithering within my veins, burrowing itself into my marrow with each passing day. But since the wolf attack, it’s felt more present. I’ve tried to ignore it, to keep it buried because, truthfully, I’m scared. Terrified of what will happen when it fully manifests.

Of who I’ll become when it finally takes hold.

31: Alicent

Dread clings to my nerves, sinking deeper the closer I get to the greenhouse. Unease curls around my insides with each unrushed step. The thought of having to endure the presence and ridicule of the other witches is something I just don’t want to deal with right now. I didn’t grow up as one of them, and I have absolutely zero idea what I’m doing.

But alas, I don’t really have a choice in the matter.

After the wolf attack, I came to the realization that, though I have this magic, I have no clue how to actually use it. This is part of me, my bloodline, my lineage. Regardless of how all of this came to fruition, I’ve come to the understanding that it’s not the guys that I owe something too, it’s myself. And this is something that I want to do.

Wisteria Terrarium comes into view after I step through whatever magic cloaks the border. I had asked the guys some time ago about the illusiveness of the building’s appearance. They said it was put into place to deter students from entering, and that only them, and the witches who are bound with the candle, can see the greenhouse for what it is.

A stunning piece of history.

It was also mentioned that the same magic was used around the bonfire, concealing everything and everyone inside, so as not to draw attention from the humans in the administration.

I take only a small moment to admire the wisteria swaying against the window’s glass in the slight breeze. And as I make my way through the room, I note the herbs potted on a nearby table, the ones I spotted on my first day here, their silver veins tugging at my curiosity, an omen I never would have suspected.

You’d think with all the magical advancements, someone would figure out a way for the boards not to creak as I descend the wooden stairs into the basement. Announcing my arrival each time is not something I wish for; it puts a spotlight on me I desperately crave not to be in.

Each pair of eyes lands on me as I enter, and I’m hit with a wave of déjà vu. Ducking my head, I make a beeline for a table set up in the back, thankful there’s at least one small mercy.

Eldritch still hasn’t arrived, which makes me a little anxious. Not that his presence offers me any comfort, but at least I know what to expect from him. The witches—both old and new recruits—haven’t necessarily been the warmest. Not that I’ve made much of an effort on my end, but it’s still intimidating nonetheless.