I don’t remember that being there when I collapsed into bed like a sack of unresolved trauma. I unfold it, expecting a message from Holly, but no.
It's a picture.
A cloud? With lightning?
Because that’s not ominous at all.
Before I start over-analyzing, my phone pings and I open it to see the notification. An email from Dean Bellows. My blood runs ice cold. I never fessed up to my messy bond situation, but that doesn’t mean someone else didn’t…
I glance over at Holly’s curls poking out of her blankets, sleeping like the dead—peaceful, unbothered. She’s way too relaxed for the typical Wrath nightmares that our kind typically get.
For a moment, rage and jealousy flood my emotions. I just want one morning where I wake up and feel safe.
Is that too much to ask? Just a basic, non-doom-filled existence where the biggest stressor is a pop quiz on Faction dynamics.
Apparently, yes. It is too much to ask.
My heart is beating out of my chest as I prepare to open the message, anticipating the worst. One of my bonds must have fessed up.I take a deep breath and click the little envelope icon on my phone.
“Miss Davies–Since you did not create a bond, I encourage you to pour yourself into your studies. I have attached your schedule with your sin power class rotation.—Dean Bellows.”
I take a tremendous sigh of relief and face-plant back on my pillow. Crisis momentarily averted. No one has fessed up to being my bond yet.
I guess there is one minor upside to being sinless: no one wants to admit they’re tied to you. Social invisibility is a great defense mechanism—until you need someone to save your ass.
I peel myself out of bed. Time to sneak out and shower before the rest of the academy’s sparkly elite start their morning struts.
The fewer people, the fewer stares. Nothing says "sinless loser" like panic sweat.
The shower helps. I mean, it doesn’t erase the crushing existential dread or the persistent chest ache, but at least I no longer smell like fear-sweat. Small wins again.
As I’m washing off my body, I hear the door open and a small group of girls come in.
“Oh my gosh, thank universe Atticus Willshire didn’t bond and is still single. If I didn’t have a chance this year to ride that gorgeous specimen while at the academy, I would punch a wall.”
My bond grows prickly and jealous in my chest as I picture Atticus with someone else. I roll my eyes at my thoughts as a scrub at my hair violently.
This is totally ridiculous. He is a pretentious douchebag.
I still want to rip this girl’s head off. It’s a good thing I can’t see her.
“Oh my universe, Megan! You can’t say that!” Another girl shrieks.
Shit.Now I know her name.
“What? Why not? What are these academy years for if not for trying out some new factions in bed? I bet Pride’s get super competitive in the bedroom.”
The other girls giggle, and I can’t help that my thoughts drift to stormy blue eyes, peering up from between my legs under blankets. My body starts aching in places that I really don’t have time to give attention.
What is happening?I’ve got to get it together.
I hear the sound of shower doors closing, and I use the opportunity to step out, dry off and hurry out. Opening the door to my room, I find it empty. I throw on my academy uniform and start my reply back to Dean Bellows.
Just as I’m packing my bag to leave, Holly walks back in looking fully rested and showered.
“She’s alive and awake!” She smiles. “Where’d you disappear to after the bond ceremony? You didn’t come to dinner. I thought maybe you got sacrificed or something?” She lets out a laugh that collapses halfway,brittle at the edges.
I stretch casually as I think of a lie to tell my new bestie. I guess this will be the new norm…
