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The creatures in the forest with Ari are definitely a new addition, but why has no one actually mentioned them? Yet they’re here, lurking in the shadows on campus.
Then there’s Creed.
And Sebastian is still a total dick.
“What feels off the most to you about yesterday, Creed?” Brax asks, and my hand tightens around Creed’s in silent comfort. He put his own name up on that board, which means he has to open up to us the best he can.
“Honestly, it all started in the arena,” he admits, making my chest clench with worry.
“What do you mean?” I ask, turning to face him head-on.
“My father practically deflected every single flicker of magic that was thrown his way. From ice to random items, shifters, and even psychic abilities.” Each of the Bishops nod in agreement. I recall watching everyone’s magic practically hit a wall around the warrior before dispelling, but I never got to go up there myself to understand properly. “When I got up there, whatever defense he had around him fractured, just for a second, almost like he let me in.”
Holy shit.
“What did he want you to see, Creed?” Eldon asks, interlocking his hands as he stares at his friend.
“He just kept chanting the same thing,” he admits, swiping a hand down his face before he looks up to meet my eyes. “He just kept saying, ‘I love you, son. I love you, son. I love you, son,’ and it’s thrown me for a fucking loop.”
Fuck.
My knuckles turn white as I tighten my hold on his hand.
“Do you think—”
“I don’t know what I think, honestly. I just… shit. Is he hidden away? Is he doing everything demanded of him to protect me? My mother? Does he know what he’s doing? I don’tfucking know, but hope is a fickle thing, and I don’t know if it’s something I can entertain right now.”
My heart aches for him. That’s shit. That’s shitter than shit. That’s shitter than my father murmuring some crap about loving me no matter how much I hate him.
“Parents are fucked up, man. Who knows why they do anything?” Zane grumbles, his lips pursing, and I know he’s thinking about his own father. Rhys was a guiding light before all of this, and now he’s non-existent, and that must be even worse because it’s not hope Zane has in him; it’s undying trust.
Brax clears his throat as Creed glances down at the floor. “What’s on the top of our to-do list?” he asks, circling back to the board.
“We need to figure out a way to get more information on Erikel’s men, understand more about the creatures in the forest, demand that Burton explain whathisfucking game plan is, and understand the golden warrior’s motive,” I list off, and Creed’s gaze snaps to mine at the mention of his father. He shakes his head as he tries to dismiss my last point, but I cut him off before he can speak. “You’re probably going to tell me that everything with him doesn’t matter among everything else, but it does, Creed. It matters a lot, and I’m not going to enable you to hide from that fact.”
I immediately worry I’ve overstepped the mark and my pulse pounds in my ears, but, to my relief, he offers me the smallest of smiles.
“Thank you, Raven.”
I’m beaming inside, happiness and that fickle thing called hope blossoming inside of me, when a knock sounds from the front door.
“Fuck,” I grunt, staring at it like whoever is on the other side will be revealed to me without me getting up to answer it. Zane isalready moving, though. Swinging the door open wide without a backward glance.
His shoulders relax as he nudges the door open further to reveal Leila, who doesn’t attempt to take a step inside as she smiles at me. “Hey, there’s a meeting tonight. I know you weren’t in classes today, but I wanted to stop by and see if you guys were in.”
“Was there an issue with our absence today?” Zane asks, glaring down at her, and she shakes her head.
“Not that I’m aware of.”
“What time is the meeting?” he presses, giving her a pointed look.
“In an hour,” she answers, her tone a little snappier as she matches his energy, and it’s almost amusing.
“An hour? What time is it?” I ask, glancing at each of my men as I frown in confusion.
“A little after six,” Brax states and my eyeballs almost fall out of my head.
“We have not been sitting here talking for that long,” I insist, but we clearly have.
