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Son of a—
I’m running until I catch up to him.
“That’s not nice,” I whine to grab his attention. “I’m wearing a skirt today, Professor North. A lady shouldn’t be running in a skirt.”
He pauses in his stride to take an up-and-down look at me.
This is my chance.
Before he can speak, I’m running ahead.
“See you in class, Professor North!”
As curious as I am to ask what the fuck I just witnessed—and potentially experienced—every nerve ending in my system is screaming for me to run to class before I perish at the hands of whatever invisible force that slayed my fellow students.
Today’s the official day of thriving disaster.
17
LESSON ONE OF N.M.U. — SURVIVAL
~OPHELIA~
Finally.
I make a note to myself that I have to ride Asher’s cock like my life depends on it because it’s thanks to his musky cologne scent that led me straight to the classroom.
With my frantic mind, there’s no time to review timetables when your life is on the line.
After the outdoor madness I just witnessed, everyone is rushing to get to their designated classes alive.
I’ve seen people die in my short life, but witnessing it happen inches away from me is making an imprint on my body’s reaction to it.
Reaching the door to my class, I make sure there’s nothing that could kill me by touch. Despite no signs, I decide not to take a chance as I use a flick of magic to encourage the metal door to slide open. There wasn’t any time to admire the ancient cement walls or the unique artistry of the school’s architecture, but the door mimics the aesthetic of one you’d see in a typical dungeon.
Engraved with unique incantations, designs, and symbolism, I have no time to decipher.
That could lead to my end if a test pops out of the blue, but as of now, I don’t want to be late.
Professor North will be here any second now.
Walking into the classroom gives me a glimpse of the big space that has students squished like sardines. I don’t know why I’d originally assumed the classes would be smaller with how few survived during the initiation trial process, but from one glance, there have to be at least five hundred students.
From a quick scan, I can tell I’m not the only one spooked out by whatever they witnessed minutes earlier. Some are crying their eyes out while others are rocking in their seats. A few are talking quietly to themselves to keep them as close to sane until class starts, while others are whispering to one another about whatever they survived.
I catch the sight of Blair sitting next to Azrael in the top right corner. Their concern for me is as clear as day, but I’m already moving my gaze away until it locks directly on those set of blue-green eyes.
Asher’s panic is striking enough, I’m taming every nerve-ending not to flinch. His aura barely slithers along his skin, but I can tell it’s fighting every strand of restraint not to reach out to me until I’m covered in a blanket of protection.
His shadowed cloak of protection.
I’m trying to be stoic, but I know he can see past the bullshit. Out of everyone in this room, my Silly Dalmatian can see through to the roots of my emotions.
The depths of my fear.
A boy is sitting next to him, eyes of orange with flickers of magenta, pink, and silver, observing my every move.
Searching for every quiver.
