Page 18 of Bound to Three Fae Beasts

She squeezed my hands. “We’ll figure this out, Z. I promise.”

It was impossible to believe her, but I was comforted by her attempts. Maybe she wouldn’t just shrug and forget me after I…

I was not going to die without a fight. I decided that right away. There was no point in just giving up and waiting to be murdered. No. I was going to arm myself to the best of my capabilities, and when Seb came for me during the binding trials, he was going to remember my final stand. Hell, maybe I’d even find a way to take him out before he could do it to me.

“Will it bother you if I light a candle?” I asked, glancing up. The magical lights that followed us everywhere always went out at the same time every night, but I wasn’t ready to try to sleep yet.

Freta shook her head. “I’m a heavy sleeper. Don’t worry about me.”

“Thanks,” I said, and quickly set up a candle near the window. With the curtain open a little, the moon helped me see the pages of my book.

I read late into the night, but by the time I could no longer keep my eyes open, I had some answers.

The bound were fae whose beast form had manifested. All fae were born tied to a single beast, and the courts tended to have beasts that were the same or similar across them. When a fae completed their bind, they were fused permanently to that one form. I figured that meant they could shift from their human form to their animal form smoothly and there was no chance of losing the bind, because otherwise all the adults who taught our classes would be animals.

Among the fae, it was the completed bind that marked them as a full adult, rather than age. It was only then that they were considered true citizens, able to inherit or have full legal protections. The courts were ranked according to the strength of their beast.

And in that, I learned something, too. The strength of the beast was not equal to the strength of the real animal, which was why Flora, a fox, could boss around Savannah, a tiger. That was merely the physical form the beast took. Magic was tightly connected to the beast, which was why only the bound could perform spells.

The Academy had been built several hundred years ago to fine-tune the process for the fae nobility, though over the years they had widened their acceptance to non-noble students as the population rate dropped. It was meant to teach young fae how best to weaponize their beast forms, and how to bring strength to their houses. Throughout their time here, students were pitted against each other, and the hierarchy that they created in here led to the same hierarchy when they left. How one performed in the Academy determined one’s fate for the rest of their lives.

Fae that hadn’t yet manifested their beast form were called unbound. Weak-binds were half a step higher than the unbound, and then there were wrong-beasts. They were bindings that were different from what was expected. The example given in the book was a member of House Laurel who manifested a tiger-striped wolf. They were strictly forbidden from taking mates or procreating, though they were permitted to serve their houses.

The last thing I read was about the unbinding. Apparently, the population crisis wasn’t a matter of not having enough children born. It was that every generation had more unbound than the previous one, or fae whose beasts were weak or wrong. And there were an increasing number of young fae whose binds failed entirely. These fae were consumed by their beast form, turning into a dangerous beast that would devour everything it could before it was put down.

I woke up late the next morning and had to race to class. But when I arrived, expecting to find Freta worried about my tardiness, she wasn’t there. And as Miss Wren started her lessons, Freta didn’t show up.

Where was she?

Chapter 9 - Azriel

Freta wouldn’t miss a class without reason. I tried to think of logical, non-dangerous reasons for why she wasn’t here, but my mind only kept returning to the possible dangers she was in. I scanned the classroom, noting that the three golden boys were present. So was Savannah. Flora was missing, though. I hadn’t thought Flora had it out for Freta, but what if she did?

“Miss Azriel. Do you have thoughts to share with the class?” Miss Wren snapped.

My head twisted back to her. “No, ma’am.”

“Then perhaps we can try paying attention, hmm?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I did my best to take notes as Wren kept talking. Today she was highlighting the founding figures from each of the courts, the ones that were so impressive that they were granted a court to call their own. The information washed over me, but I was too worried to process any of it.

Once class was done, I threw my stuff into my knapsack and hurried out. Next class was Thatcher. I rushed to the pavilion, but once more there was no sign of Freta. As I lingered in the doorway, wondering what to do, I spied Silas trotting across the yard. He looked relaxed, and even smiled at me as he approached.

He had been concerned about Freta’s mental well-being when I snapped at her. As his gaze met mine, I made a decision. If I was going to survive this place, it meant trusting the right people. I had no idea how to make sure who was ‘right,’ but I had to start somewhere.

I rushed to him and reached to grab his arm. He twisted away, tensing. His hands came up slightly, as though he was readying himself to shove me away. Right. He had no reason to trust me, either.

“Freta is missing,” I said in a low voice. Behind me, Seb and his gang were waltzing toward the pavilion entrance. Seb’s sharp eyes burnt holes in my neck. Flora had rejoined them, laughing with Savannah about something.

Red was missing. He hadn’t been in Wren’s class, either.

“When did you last see her?” Silas asked.

“Last night. I stayed up reading and she went to bed. When I woke up this morning, she wasn’t there. I don’t wake up easily in the morning, and so far she’s gotten me some bread to scarf down on our way to first class. But she wasn’t in class, either, and that doesn’t seem like her at all.”

As I spoke, it occurred to me that Silas knew Freta better than I did. This was the fourth day that I’d known her, and he’d lived close to her his whole life. A brief pang hit my stomach. What if this was normal behavior for her? What if I was panicking over nothing?