He shook his head. “But this is a relic of ancient days. Today, no one willfully binds themself outside of Spartan marriages and animal protector bonds—immortality is a dangerouslylongtime to be stuck to a promise. That is why this new marriage law has everyone up in arms.”
The class whispered to one another.
Augustus frowned, dark eyes flashing.
Since he’s already twenty-six, does that mean he has to marry this year? His poor spouse.
He stood up taller and gestured down to where Poco was gnawing with his fangs on a piece of chalk.
When the rabid raccoon saw he was being summoned, he gleefully threw himself at Augustus and raced up his torso. He hung off Augustus’s neck, then flung his little head back and forth, trying to eat the long two-toned ponytail.
Okay, that is cute, people. Someone needs to take a picture.
Augustus sighed but didn’t stop Poco, like he was used to his antics.
Instead, he said, “An animal protector is gained through taking aSpartan oath. Once again,ifyou survive this summer, you will get access to the creature menagerie located beneath this mountain.”
His dark eyes narrowed. “Don’tthink gaining a protector is easy. Some of the strongest initiates in history failed to graduate from this academy because no animal would bond with them.” He glared at me.
“Animals can sense both the levels of power in our veinsandthe nature of our souls. They see us better than we see ourselves.”
His scowl deepened.
“History teaches us that animals can feel a person’s aura,” Augustus said. “A protector chooses you—notthe other way around, like most wrongly believe. When it’s clear that an animal wants to bond with you, you lock eyes and say ‘domus.’ If it agrees to the bond, it will hold your gaze, and its eyes will change to your color as the connection is cemented.”
I blamed my state of exhaustion for noticing the dozens of veins on Augustus’s tan forearm. It was unfair how attractive he was.
The cute racoon hanging off him also really helped.
I wonder if there’s an inappropriate drawing of him on the Spartan Lifestyle Page?
The baby onesie I’d been wearing when the orphanage found me also had “1/23/2080” engraved on it in gold stitching. They thought it was my birthday, which meant I was an Aquarius.
An ancient magazine at the library said I had an independent, loyal, quiet, and easily distracted personality.
Apparently, I was distracted by smutty drawings of male genitalia.
I’m going to hell.
“If the animal doesnotagree to the bond—or sees something in your soul it doesn’t like,” Augustus said gravely, “your mind will boil from the inside, and we will kill you to put you out of your misery.”
I choked on my spit.
He flashed a mean glare in my direction.
Ah, what? Repeatthat part.
“But you don’t need to worry about that right now,” Augustus said. “There will be a day in December when everyone bonds with an animal... hopefully.”
That “hopefully” was not comforting.
“Enough talk about protectors,” Augustus said. “You all need to focus on getting in touch with your power source.”
He sat down gracefully at the front of the room, and Poco perched on top of his head, draped over his spiky crown, like an obese hat.
That can’t be comfortable.
“Now—we meditate,” Augustus ordered.
