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“The enemy.”
TWENTY-TWO
RAVEN
Exhaustion clings to me like an unwanted parasite. Rubbing at my eyes for the hundredth time today does nothing to ease the tiredness, leaving my body depleted. I see the same weight on Creed, Eldon, Brax, and Zane’s shoulders, but Leila seems surprisingly at ease. She’s definitely more used to it than we are. Which leaves me wondering how often they actually go out in the dead of night like that.
I get the feeling it’s going to be too often for my liking when the alternative is being wrapped up in bed fast asleep.
The information we gained last night made it all worthwhile, though.
The Basilica Realm.
I knew places existed beyond our borders, but I didn’t expect them to be so close, so different. It was like looking at the remnants of a battlefield, a layer of fog cast over them as molten lava bubbled around the already burnt lands.
Being a part of the Guild is going to be a huge adjustment, but if it means we get to learn these things, facts that are otherwise concealed from everyone else, then it’ll be worth the strain. I think I’m more disappointed with the fact that I thought I almost had my sleep back to normal, but other adventures await.
My main issue now is the fact that I have no brain power to focus on this class. Even as the professor speaks, I can’t pinpoint which lesson we’re in, never mind the topic. I knew it was all futile the second I stepped foot in here. We have lunch next, so maybe the energy boost will wake me up a little more.
Thankfully, when I took my usual spot beside Leila, I focused on my magic and managed to get the paper and pen working of their own accord. Creed had mentioned how to make it capture the professor’s words so it would take notes for me and I’ve never been more grateful for the new magic running through my body. Except when it came to shaving my legs the other night. That’s high on the list, too.
A knock rattles the classroom door, jolting me from my thoughts, and I’m surprised to find Professor Barton in the doorway.
“I’m sorry to interrupt your class, Professor. I just need Miss Hendrix.” His attention shifts from the professor to me and my chest tightens. “Please, get your belongings. Your presence is required elsewhere.”
My entire body stiffens and I instantly start to shake my head. “Uh, no thanks. The last time someone came to escort me from a class, it didn’t end well for me,” I ramble, unnecessarily oversharing, but I can’t control it.
He frowns down at me as my hands ball into fists. “Well, I can assure you, Raven, I’ll escort you to your parents myself.”
I scoff as my eyes widen. “You see, that’s still not filling me with the confidence you’re hoping for. I’ll stay put, thanks.”
“Is everything okay?” Leila whispers from beside me, but my gaze is locked on Barton’s and I can sense that he’s not going to take no for an answer.
“Unfortunately, it’s not a request,” he replies, unknowingly confirming my thoughts.
Raking my eyes over him in his navy suit, perfectly pressed white shirt, and copper tie, he looks nothing like the man from last night. It’s crazy. Despite the two sides to the coin before me, he still has absolutely no clue what he’s leading me to. It’s his funeral if I get pissy.
My chair scrapes behind me as I stand, reaching for my backpack as the entire class watches me, but as I wrap my hand around the strap, a hand falls over my own.
“There’s no chance in Hell she’s going alone. You heard her. If her safety is a concern, we’ll come too,” Creed states, taking my backpack from my grasp as he stares Barton down.
“That’s not an option. Academy policy states parents can call a meeting with their children whenever they choose. They’ve requested this one to be private. Whether you like it or not, Miss Hendrixwillattend. Alone.”
Fuck.
This is escalating quickly.
Taking a deep breath, I turn to face Creed, only to find Zane, Brax, and Eldon on their feet too. Anger dances in each of their eyes, the colors swirling like vortexes. I reach to take my backpack from Creed, gaining his attention.
“It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not,” he grunts, refusing to let go of my bag.
“No, really. I’m good. The quicker I leave, the quicker I’ll be back, right?” I don’t know who I’m trying to convince more, myself or him, but I can tell it isn’t really working. Rolling my shoulders back, irritation burns through me. Before I came here, I was a badass bitch. Now, I’m constantly second-guessing myself and I hate it.
“Raven.” My name feels like a warning on Creed’s tongue but I shake it off, snatching my backpack from his grip.
“Creed,” I hiss, hating the feel of everyone’s eyes on us.
