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It must be serious if they’re returning. But who is going to protect the barrier without them?
“I’m assuming alternative defense measures have been organized for the outpost for that to happen,” Raven states. There’s no disheartened approach to those coming home, just a simple observation.
Like mine.
Fuck. She needs to stop weaving her web. She’s the black widow and I’m the embarrassing insect, eager to fall into her clutches despite knowing it’s no good for me.
“That information is above our pay grade, Miss Hendrix, but good questions. Let’s hope you’ll survive this place to use them in the right circumstances.” With that, Figgins steps back, dismissing the conversation.
The dangers are getting more frequent and closer to home, but from whom? And why? They don’t give us much information and we deserve some answers.
Figgins whips her arms out at her sides and rack after rack of swords appear. “It’s time we start upping our training. Take a walk through the racks, you’ll know which sword belongs to you.”
My eyebrows rise at her vague-as-fuck instructions, but she’s the professor so we all start to move without questioning it. I hold back, needing a little distance from everyone as my mind whirls. Assessing the racks, I consider where to start. Despite Raven being at the stand to my right, my body is drawn in that direction too.
“Each row of swords is made with a different metal and blessed with a different engraving. Whichever one you select is yours to keep. I’ll provide sheaths at the end of the lesson, but once assigned, they are yours until you die.”
Optimistic. Excellent.
Raven hasn’t moved along by the time I get there and, as much as I try to keep my distance, I get a tingling feeling down my arm, drawing me closer to the sword on the other side of Raven. Avoiding any connection, I slip past her. Before I can stop myself, I reach for the blade at the exact same time she grabs the one behind it. Our eyes connect, surprise flickering in her gaze.
We both hiss at the same time we make contact with our chosen swords, the edges cutting into our palms, and droplets of blood quickly trail down the silver blades before pooling on the ground. A round of hisses ricochet around us from the rest of the students as they too seem to go through the same weird ritual of selecting a sword.
“Why does it feel like the sword chose me? Not the other way around?” Raven murmurs, searching my gaze for an answer. But I don’t have one. I felt it too. The fact that they just drew blood feels like an omen or something. I don’t know how to feel about this; the swords, the same selection as Raven, Raven in general…all of it.
I get the feeling the brutality we’re going to face at the hands of the academy is only going to worsen with the news of the outpost.
“Excellent. If you’ve all selected, let’s begin, shall we? The swords are going to be a new limb for each of us, a weapon when our magic isn’t enough.”
Raven gulps and my heart clenches.
Eventually I’m going to have to accept how fucked I am. And I get the feeling it’s not going to be on my terms.
27
RAVEN
The news of the fourth years is unsettling. It plays on my mind even after class is over and the day is almost done with. Ordnance class was a blur, from the swords to the news, my head was awash. I hate that there are always ten more questions for each answer you get and a whole heap of deflection that follows.
I spent the weekend walking on cloud nine after Friday night’s revelations, yet one minute into classes and I’ve plummeted back to the ground again. I’m still unsure what everything means between the guys and I but, in comparison to the deaths that keep on coming, it’s not the first priority.
Nothing has happened between us since the drinking game, just some small touches here and there, but nothing more. All I know is I’m hands down ready to do that again. Sooner rather than later, even if it’s for distraction purposes.
I just need to get through the next class, then I can get out of here. Everyone’s swords were transported to their rooms and I’m eager to learn more about mine.
We’re back in the main building this afternoon, rows and rows of desks lined up for us, and I take the same one I was encouraged into on my first day. That puts Brax behind me, much to his discomfort, I’m sure. He’s driving me insane with his closed-off exterior and gruff approach, making it impossible for me to even attempt to speak to him without starting in a fit of rage.
It seems the Bishops have me twisted and there’s nothing I can do about it.
My ass has barely hit the seat when the professor turns to me with a tight smile. “Miss Hendrix, I believe a third year is coming to collect you. You’ve been called for a meeting.”
What?
“A meeting for what?”
“I don’t know. I’m sure the prefect can confirm more with you,” she explains, waving her hand toward the door. I turn to look at the entrance and my stomach sinks when I find Sebastian standing there. The smirk on his face instantly pisses me off. He doesn’t say a word and stands there waiting.
“You’re not going with him,” Eldon states from behind me, making Sebastian chuckle and my defenses continue to rise.
