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Didn’t he?
Forty-Seven
I passMorrigan on the way to the courtyard and feel the prickle of her intense stare. Her lips curl into a smile that seems more cruel than anything else. I turn and watch Morrigan’s back disappear down the corridor with a sense of dread in the pit of my stomach.
If she resurrected the vampires, then she must be mocking me.
If she resurrected the vampires, then I’m not safe from her.
If she killed Dina and Jenny, then no one is safe.
And Nathan is still out there somewhere.
The one thing that gives me pause is… why? Whoever resurrected Lavinia and Anastasia must have a motive. Unless, by some strange twist of fate, there was someotheraccident that was like mine, someone chose to do this for a reason.
There must be a motive.
That dread remains lodged in my abdomen as I line up with the others in the courtyard. While Apollo explains what we’ll be doing today, I can’t stop thinking about Morrigan and Cyrus and everything in between. I’m trying to mouldmy thoughts into shapes that make sense, but I’m missing something.
Morrigan foughtwithmy ancestor, not against him—unless she lied to me in the tower.
“Miss Belvedere. Why don’t you come up here and demonstrate what I was saying.” Apollo flashes me a despicably wicked grin and waves me into the centre of the yard.
“I wasn’t listening,” I admit.
“I know.” He gestures. “Do as you’re told, please. Maybe you’ll learn something for a change.”
I hate him. I hate his smug expression and the way he continues to pick on me. I’m sick of this school, of the hundred-year-old political issues that have put a target on my back. I hate that I’m not safe and that I’ve had the worst fucking luck of any fledgling aura ever.
So when I step into the centre of the courtyard, I’m already wound tight. I grind my teeth, every part of my body tense.
Apollo paces up and down in front of me then stops, squaring his body. I do the same.
“Ready?” he asks.
His fist flies at me so fast, I have no time to think. Then it connects with my jaw, and pain explodes through my skull.
I stagger back, almost landing on the stones, shock making my eyes tear up. I rub my aching face as Apollo smirks.
Fuck him.
He shrugs. “And that is why you should always listen to me when I’m explaining how to dodge an attack.”
When the rest of the students begin to laugh, anger as hot as lava flows through me. A red mist descends over my eyes.I straighten up, lock my eyes on Apollo Finn, raise one hand and shout, “Vis impetus!”
Apollo raises his hands in shock as his body lifts from the ground and flies across the courtyard, slamming into the stone wall. Winded, he weakly lifts a palm and whispers something. A thick, transparent substance wraps around him like a bubble.A ward.
“And that’s why you don’t pick on people who can fight back,” I snarl.
I walk away, my skin thrumming like a plucked violin string. Even Laila stares at me in shock, her jaw dropped, but I just keep walking past the line of students and their wide eyes. Cooper is the only one who tries to say something, but I ignore him and keep going. I stride away from the castle, down the hill, welcoming the sea spray that hits me in the face. And eventually, I come to a rocky cove where I find a place to sit and be alone.
Cyrus, this is all too much,I tell him.I’ve had enough.
His response is like a warm hug wrapping around me, letting me know he’s there. I know it’s wrong to want it, to crave his presence, to long for his arms around me, but I don’t care. I let that warm hug wrap around my mind, and I pretend that I’m in his crypt and we’re sitting together on the stone steps, his physical arms holding me.
Finally, I start to cry. He might be there in my mind, but I’m all alone in this. I came to this academy without any knowledge of what I was walking into. Without knowing anything about my family’s legacy or what auras truly are. I have Laila now, and Cooper seems to like me, too, but otherwise, I’m pretty much alone. I’m the only one who can decide what to do about Cyrus’s resurrection. Just me. Andall of those secrets weigh so heavily on me. A stone on my chest.
Aura Academy isn’t my school—it’s my prison. I’m not preparing for my future but being strangled by a destiny I didn’t choose. For the longest time, I’ve tried to look on the bright side. When Mum and Dad split up, I was sad but also glad they wouldn’t argue anymore. When Gran died, I missed her but knew she wasn’t in pain any longer after a long battle with breast cancer.
