To my surprise, they both decide to join us. Trysten takes a seat beside Ciara, while Anders settles in on my other side. Just my luck, Kellan chooses that moment to join us, filling in the only empty seat next to Tate.
I catch Ciara’s eye, and she shoots me a sly smirk as she looks back and forth between Anders and me. I can feel the energy radiating from him, but it’s our Bond that has me stifling a smile.
The wave of pastels surging around us goes wild, like our Bonds have missed each other. Our pinkies brush against each other, and I pull my lips in to stifle a gasp. It’s strange how quickly it can feel familiar. Without a thought, our pinkies intertwine, reminding me of the Bubble Village, where we held hands openly without a care in the world.
“Where have you been?” I whisper, trying to keep my voice steady as I turn to face the dais.
“Researching,” he replies softly, his gaze focused on something far beyond the classroom walls. “You needed time.”
Something similar to disbelief and anger flooded my chest. “So you decided for me?”
His mouth twists up as his eyes meet mine. “Raea,” he murmurs, the sound searing every nerve ending while soothing that ugly, hot anger. “I promise, it was for your own benefit, not mine. I?—”
He’s cut off, but my body relaxes into the seat now that I know things between us are exactly as they should be. He wasn’t avoiding me. Or so he says. Either way, my whole body relaxes at his confession, settling a part of me that I don’t fully understand.
“Settle down,” Professor Becca instructs as she takes her position at the front of the room. She scans the three dorms gathered here, her eyes sympathetic and understanding when she reaches us. “I’m glad to see you all alive and well,” she adds, addressing the six of us individually with a gentle smile that softens the tension in the air.
“Today, we’re going to shake things up a bit with a fun exercise,” she continues, her enthusiasm palpable. “In just a few minutes, we’ll walk over to the Academy Hall, where tables have been set up for an interactive Bonding session.” The crowd begins to share whispers, making our professor chuckle. “Not that kind of Bonding session. Ladies, you’ll take a seat at one of the tables and stay put throughout the class. Gentlemen, you’ll be moving around—find an open seat and sit across from one of the ladies. You’ll have exactly two minutes at each table to learn more about the person in front of you.”
My eyes drop to her Bonding mark that winds up her middle finger to the back of her hand. It’s strange to see hers so dark. I’m used to my mother’s and the other women in our court. Their Bond marks are lighter shades of silver and gray, blending in effortlessly. I’ve seen darker marks, so I know they aren’t rare, but I wonder if the color carries any significance.
“You’ll all be looking for the Bond—this can be something subtle, like a faint buzz in the air. If you feel it, make a note on your tablet. If you don’t feel anything, move on to the next table. This exercise will help you narrow down the choices for your upcoming ceremonies. Now, juniors, don’t worry if you don’t feel much, or anything at all, at this stage—just jot down whatever you observe. Remember, depending on your birthday, you still have another year, or possibly two.”
A hand shoots up from the corner of Taeolyn’s section.
“Do seniors only match with seniors?” a woman asks, her tone dripping with impatience. “I mean, I don’t want to waste my time with a junior.”
I immediately recognize her; it’s Sienna.
When I lean forward to see her, I note the bitchy smirk on her annoyingly beautiful face, and it takes everything in me not to roll my eyes.I sit back and face forward, biting down on the inside of my lip hard enough to draw blood. I don’t know what it is about her that gets me riled up so easily.
“Don’t let her get to you,” Anders murmurs from beside me, leaning in close enough that I catch his masculine scent that I often dream of. My shoulders relax instinctively as warmth radiates from him, comforting me even on a soul-deep level. “There’s no Bond between her and me.” Our knees brush together, and the energy that pulses between us is both exhilarating and grounding. “I’m yours.”
Anders interlaces his fingers with mine, wrapping my hand in his. A rush of emotions floods me. We’ve gone from merely acknowledging an attraction to an undeniable need for each other that feels overwhelming, yet exactly right at the same time. Those two words play over and over in my head.
Mine.
“Good point, Sienna,” Professor Becca continues, her tone shifting to a more serious note. “Senior men will have the opportunity to visit tables for both juniors and seniors. Junior men, however, should stick to junior ladies.”
Professor Becca answers a few more questions, and soon we move as a crowd toward the Academy Hall. Anders walks at my side, no longer holding my hand, but close enough that I can feel his heat radiating against me while Kellan trails closely behind us, silent but observant. I feel both of their Bonds reaching for me—the iridescent light from Anders envelops me in a protective cocoon, while Kellan’s soft green Bond attempts to weave its way toward me. It’s a peculiar mix of comfort and agony to have them both beside me. I’m not even sure if they’re aware of it. I’ve never asked.
If someone had asked me a few weeks ago, I would have confidently declared Kellan my choice—if I had one. He’s always been my best friend, and my heart feels safe with him. Yet, somewhere along the lines, the dynamics have shifted. Anders has somehow woven himself into the fabric of my life, becoming an all-consuming need that I can’t seem to satiate.
The Academy Hall is lit brightly when we arrive. The roofline is sloped, resembling a gentle wave in the forest, with glittering walls of glass and windows. Inside, I can see soft lights illuminating the open space that awaits us.
As we enter the space designed to accommodate the nearly two thousand students and faculty on campus, I take in the hundred or so tables decorating the usually expansive floor and along the walkways, separated by lush planters that typically line the edges of the room. The balconies that rise above on the three sides are shadowed, and behind the dais, the wall of windows reveals the twin moons in a blanket of stars.
I find a seat in the corner near the dais, not nearly as excited as my classmates for this exercise, as Professor Becca uses her projection magic to display clocks above each desk.
Once all the women have settled into their seats, Professor Becca takes up a position behind me on the dais. “Gentlemen, you may now find a seat,” she relays.
The men shift awkwardly, their shoes squeaking on the polished floor. Just as I catch a glimpse of Kellan and Anders making their way towards me, a man from Veker slides into the empty seat across from mine, blocking them from view. I suppress a sigh, forcing my lips into the best smile I can muster.
Despite the mess of all this bonding stuff, I remind myself that I am still a princess, and there’s a chance that the prophecy may not even link to me. And, as Anders said, we still have to conduct The Ceremony, which means I will eventually have to narrow it down to a large group of men to undergo the testing with.
For the next couple of minutes, the man I’ve learned is named Arne launches into a series of clumsy flirtations, each one moreuncomfortable than the last. I grimace inwardly as he chuckles over his attempts to impress me with the significance of my name and his.
“Raya,” which isn’t even my name, but not that I’ll point that out. He claims it means queen, and his means eagle, and with the Treon family crest being an eagle, well…it’s a stretch. Just when I think I can’t endure anymore, I’m rescued when the timer signals the end of our interaction. Relief washes over me. I just hope that they get better from here on out.
