My powers buzz painfully under my skin, like nettles jabbing at me from every direction. I want to scream, to demand answers, to go back to Halloween night and never have this happen. “I didn’t break any oaths. I don’t understand any of this.”
Laurel walks silently beside me, her posture rigid. When she finally speaks, her voice is controlled but grim. “Regardless, if you have been marked by a demon, it’s your mother’s doing.”
What? First, her sin was messing with the undead, and now it’s demons? What the hell was the problem Sebastian needed help with?
What did you do, Mom? What have you gotten me into?
I enter the Arcana training academy on unsteady legs, the word “demon” echoing in my head like a death knell. Laurel guides our group through a massive set of elaborately carved doors, across a stone foyer, and up a wide, grand staircase.
At the top of the staircase, overseeing the entire entrance, is a wide doorway with a black and copper placard.
Office of Headmistress Briar.
The door itself is hidden behind a lush green curtain of twisting vines and woody branches. As we approach, the natural wall parts like two halves of heavy drapes being pulled open.
I blink and look around, wondering if the living barrier is sentient or if someone commanded it to allow us entry.
Laurel opens the door behind and leads the way inside.
The office is circular, like stepping inside a planetarium dome. Soft light emanates from spell-lanterns suspended in mid-air, casting gentle shadows across the walls. A half-moon desk dominates the center of the space, carved from a black wood that seems to ripple and shift with subtle magic.
It’s like the furniture itself is breathing.
“Sit.” Laurel gestures to an oversized armchair before the desk. “Wylder will help settle your powers before we have another incident like the one at the warehouse.”
I lower myself into the chair, biting back my retort. The incident at the warehouse was on them, but she says it like I’m the one at fault.
Wylder doesn’t seem to care whether I want his help or not. He stands in front of me, perches his ass on the edge of the desk, and frowns. “Lean back and close your eyes. Try to calm your emotions.”
“Closing my eyes with you glaring at me and standing this close willnotcalm my emotions. You’ll probably grow a cactus spike from your finger and stab me through the temple.”
He scowls. “It’s tempting, but I won’t.”
“Well, forgive me for not believing you, Plant Man. You’ve fucked me over before.”
He shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Orion, get in here. Talk some sense into her, will you?”
Orion jogs inside and shifts the second chair to face me. “It’s cool, Poppy. Your magic is chaotic. Let him help, and I’ll monitor things, okay?”
It’s impossible to doubt the sincerity in Orion’s icy blue eyes, and I draw a steadying breath. “Okay, thanks.”
I lean my head back, noticing how books float in a lazy orbit around the perimeter of the room above. They spin gently, making it seem like the entire ceiling is alive with movement.
“Close your eyes.”
I fight the urge to be difficult and counter everything Wylder says, but despite the way Laurel spoke to me, I actually don’t want a repeat of what happened in the warehouse.
I wriggle a little deeper into the chair and try to relax.
With my eyes closed, it’s alarming how chaotically my power buzzes under my skin. It’s sharp and electric, like being covered in invisible stinging nettles. It’s getting worse, not better, biting at my flesh from the inside, pushing to get out.
I clench my fists, trying to maintain control.
“Calm, Poppy.” Wylder’s voice is softer now, coaxing serenity I don’t feel. “Acknowledge that your power is trying to protect you, and assure yourself that you’re safe.”
But am I? I don’t feel safe.
“We’ve got you, Popstar,” Orion says beside me. “Relax. Picture you and Asher hanging out, doing what you do when you feel like everything is right in the world.”
