“What are you doing here?” I shake my head at my rudeness. “Sorry. I mean, good morning. What’s up?”
“I petitioned the council to allow me to take over this class period to train you on first aid and healing. It seems important, given the state of things and your particular abilities.”
“They agreed?” Tilda asks.
He shrugs. “They haven’t taken it up yet, but I’m going to assume they’ll grant my request.”
I smile. “Better to ask forgiveness than permission, I find.”
“Go ahead. I’ll catch you in Master Lintaru’s class after.” Tilda finally breaks and hisses at a beta who is openly glaring at me from across the hall. The girl skitters away, her green hair curling in fear.
“Tilda,” I chide.
“What?” She grins and joins the flow of cadets down the main corridor.
Onin motions toward the classroom behind him. “We have it to ourselves for the period.”
“Okay.” I try not to sigh with relief as I hurry inside and away from the other cadets.
“They’ll get used to it,” he says and closes the door. “Master Varat is usually in charge of teaching healing and medical assistance, but I wanted to train you personally. I hope that’s all right?”
“More than all right.” I sit at a wide table in the front of the room. “Kyte’s told me about Master Varat’s methods.” I shudder. “I’m perfectly fine not having bits of me cut off so I can regenerate them. Well, not that I think I can even do that.”
“How do you know you can’t?” He rolls a cart over to the table and starts pulling out syringes, vials, plasters, and tons of items I’ve never seen before and have no clue about.
I clasp my fingers together. “I guess I don’t know one way or another. When the circle formed, I got—I call them powers—powers from each of my Alphas. And these.” I touch one of my horns. “Jeren’s ink and shadow ability. And Ceredes’s fighting strength. Kyte gave me the barrier thing.”
“Kyte also has healing abilities. It’s part of his Calarian blood. I think you likely have some of it, too.”
“Okay, so I guess we need to experiment?”
“Afraid so.” He drums one set of fingers on the table. “But only if you want to. Whatever we do, I can fix. Keep that in mind.”
I swallow hard, thinking of amputated fingers or that horrible eye thing that happened to Tilda in Master Rav’s final exam last term. But that was only weeks ago, of course. Feels like years.
“I can do this.” I reach for something akin to a scalpel he’s laid out on the table.
The door bursts open, and I jump. “Holy shit!”
“What in the Pillars are you doing?” Kyte’s brows are low, anger pulsing with each of his heartbeats, and he knocks Onin’s implements off the table and takes my hand.
“Kyte, wait—”
“No one hurts you.” Ceredes stomps through the door, a tempest already raging in his eyes. “Not even you.”
“Not happening.” Jeren’s voice is right behind me. As usual.
“You have to stop tuning in to my thoughts!” I stomp my foot, an admittedly stupid move since I crack the tile beneath me and the stone under it groans. Ceredes’s strength. It’s a trip.
I close my eyes and try to put up the mental blocks that Tilda taught me. Jeren dances right through the wall, his smirk in my mind like the Cheshire cat on a tree branch.
“Ugh.” I fist my hands and try again, strengthening the block and trying to be mindful of it.
This time, he shimmers, but he’s still there, inside the wall.
“Jeren!” I turn and poke a finger into his hard chest. “Get out.”
The same smirk from my mind appears on his handsome face. “Fine. But you can’t hurt yourself.”
