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My face must have shown my queasiness, because Ezric smirked and picked up a second fried ring. “What? You don’t like calamari?”
“Um. Not really,” I managed to squeak.
Ezric tossed the ring into the air and caught it in his mouth. After chewing, he spoke again. “It’s my favorite seafood. Probably because I grew up listening to my dad refer to Kraken meat as the sweetest delicacy of the sea, and this is as close as I can get to tasting it.”
My throat had tightened to the point it was strangling me. I wanted to scream or run, but I was frozen in place.
“I can’t believe your dad used to participate in those hunts. It’s weird that the paranormal council allowed a paranormal species to be hunted.” Amadeus snagged a piece of sushi from my plate, his face an unreadable mask.
Did he approve of Krakens being slaughtered? It didn’t seem like he did, but I couldn’t be sure and couldn’t have asked if I’d wanted to.
“Are you kidding? My dad led several of those hunts!” Ezric’s chest puffed with pride, and I fought the urge to vomit.
It was hard enough to hear about the cruel murders of my species, but hearing someone gloat about those horrific deaths shocked me to my core. How could I change the opinions of people who didn’t even see Krakens as worthy of life?
To my immense relief, Ezric pushed back from the table and stood. “I’m going to go see if I can find my missing mermaid. See you around, Red.”
It took me a moment to realize he was talking about the red in my hair. I looked at Amadeus, expecting him to stand and follow his friend.
I found, for the first time since arriving at Slaymore, I didn’t want to be alone.
My heart longed for Amadeus to stay.
He shrugged, giving me a smile that eased some of the anxiety that had welled up inside me at Ezric’s words. “I’m up for anything. How’s the salmon?”
* * *
It seemedlike everyone at Slaymore was determined to be as friendly as possible. Although, I couldn’t help but wonder how many of them would join Ezric and his father in a Kraken hunt if given a chance.
Amadeus stuck around for breakfast, then walked with me to get textbooks since I’d fallen asleep early the night before. With the muscular hunk at my side, a sense of calm settled over me.
I felt safe at his side, which could spell disaster for me if I let myself become involved with him… because how safe could I be when Amadeus’s closest friend enjoyed hunting my kind?
I took my time in the store, enjoying the experience of being surrounded by books. When I stumbled upon the novel section, I realized how hungry I was for a good book.
Kraken libraries were precious things, difficult to protect from the water and often filled with whatever books we salvaged from the ocean floor. So, being in a store filled from floor-to-ceiling with mint-condition books was a treat.
I jumped, clutching my chest, when someone tapped me on the shoulder. I’d completely lost myself in a fantasy about mermaid politics and hadn’t even noticed that Amadeus had disappeared.
Twisting around in my chair, I found myself face-to-face with the store clerk. “Are you buying those books? Because class starts in five minutes—”
“I need to go!” I shot out of the seat.
There was no way I could be late for my first class. They’d never let me take independent study if I started off with a record like that.
Quickly buying the textbooks—and the fantasy novel—I sprinted outside. Pulling out my map, I searched for the location of my academic writing class.
Academic Writing was held in one of the smaller buildings off the lawn. It was a one-story half-circle structure with yet another fountain in front of it.
The statue in the middle of the fountain was decorated with a fey… arealfey. The kind with wings, claws, and razor-sharp teeth that could rip your arm off.
The sculptor had captured her unearthly beauty in bronze, and she gave off an alluring quality—like she’d rip my arm off, and I’d like it.
Jogging across the dew-covered grass, I was one of the last to arrive in the class and slipped into the last empty chair near the front. The class was unusually quiet. Since this was a first-year requirement class, perhaps no one had had a chance to make friends yet.
Our writing teacher seemed nice enough, but she didn’t teach me anything I didn’t already know. I took notes for the sake of it, though, and was careful to keep my head down.
At the end of the class, I went up to her with my notebook prominently displayed. “Miss Halyet? I mean, Professor?”
