“I wasn’t aware there was one already planned.” My grin falters. Of course, today was more about our deal than some softening between us. He needs my power to emerge so we can have each other’s backs, and he needs to show everyone we are more than roommates. What better way than stealing me from classes to spend the day cavorting with him? I shouldn’t even be distracted by whatever it is I’m feeling for him. My focus should only be on the vengeance we’ve planned, and on finding my family.
“The Hollow Fest party is the biggest campus event of the year. It’s the perfect time to make a statement.” He runs a hand through his hair, the light catching it and shining like moonlight across onyx. Eyeing me from the side, his gaze is still firmly violet, a color it’s remained most of the day. “Going together will turn every head, just like at Court. With a little more training, I can teach you how to listen to the vapid thoughts of every other student on campus. If we win them over, we can win over the rest of the Court, too.”
“Right.” This is all part of his plan, his grand deceit. I knew that. I know that. He may have the perspective of a mortal, but he has the self-interest of the immortal he’s become.
“What’s wrong?” He halts, shoulders hunched, bare tattooed arms in full view, his cloak hanging over one shoulder and wing.Dark brows furrowing, his gaze pierces so intensely I wonder if he sees right through me. My mental shields are pulled up high, filling my mind with the image of that snowy field.
“It’s n—” But I cannot lie, I can’t dismiss it as nothing. My tattoo burns as if a hot poker is pressed against it. I swallow and say something true: “I’ll get over it.”
“You …” He chews his lip, as if he’s worrying the lower one away, glancing at the countryside instead. “I don’t like it when you shut me out like that.”
“I thought you wanted me to learn to protect my thoughts? So I wasn’t always forcing them onto you.” I shrug and his eyes burn magenta now, as if there’s a fire growing behind them.
“I fucked up …” His head tilts to the side as if he’s trying to figure me out. “Does our deal prevent you from going with someone else? What’s his name? The Judgment Arcana in your group?” Draven goes still, vulnerable, judging by the way his shoulders hunch, his leg bouncing. He insists, “The one here today. Autumn or—”
“Wynter,” I supply, and he nods.
“I don’t know him. But he’s from Sedah. I should know him.” Draven flinches, eyes darting back and forth, as though Wynter is some missing puzzle piece instead of just someone too lowly for Draven to have troubled with before.
“I don’t know how I feel about him,” I say honestly. Wynter’s soft smiles have made my toes curl in my boots. My eyes drop, only to check back to see if Draven still looks my way. His gaze rankles closer to scarlet. I shrug blithely, continuing to be honest. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”
Draven’s brows stay furrowed, an incredulous smirk cloying at his mouth before giving way. He huffs, crossing his arms. “Did you need time to explore that dalliance before we get to work? I thought you wanted to be partners—”
“I do,” I insist.
“This is the cost.” He looks around, but we’re alone, and he closes the short distance between us. He points toward the school. “Any of them could be enemies. I don’t trust some of the people I’ve known for years. If they have not left a mark on my skin or me on theirs”—he points to the tattoo I’ve left behind, a lioness or a jaguar maybe, but he flashes it too quick for me to tell—“then they could betray us. I know it seems stupid to you, us pretending to be more, but it’s the way I keep the seraph king from sending assassins for your head. The way I keep my father from snuffing you out in the night. I can’t give you vengeance if you’re dead—”
“I know that,” I snap.
“—and you cannot give me a partner in ruling this wicked realm and the others if you’re gone or distracted,” he finishes as if I did not interrupt him. His shoulders slump, exasperation hitting his face. “Maybe I can be flexible when our footing is more secure, but if you’re seen with someone else, it risks everything we’re building—”
“I’m not going to go be with him!” I’m tired of talking about it.
“Are you sure? Because—”
“For fuck’s sake, Draven!” I force my voice to lower, glancing at the building we left, but we’re still alone. My hands fly to his chest, stopping before I shove him or pull him into me. Curling them into fists, I force them back to my side. “I just thought today was … maybe about you giving a damn.”
I turn on my heel and start to storm off.
“It was!” He shouts the words at my back, but I don’t turn around. I make it to the top of the hill as a whooshing sound fills my ears. I look up to see him soaring off the mountainside,flying off in anger. For a moment I’m surprised he didn’t just use the Death Arcana to disappear back to the house. Maybe he thought it was where I was going and didn’t want more of a fight. Either way I find myself cold, folding my arms over my chest as I make the long walk to a silent and lonely house.
18Dangerous Dealings
I know she is out there, and you must not underestimate her skill set or her ability to lure others into a false sense of security. My Blades trained this Wraith well, and she is both dangerous and cunning. Find her.
—Recovered letter from the Lord of Westfall
THE WEEKS BEFOREmidway exams pass in a blur. Things with Draven calm, staying polite, formal, but we never seem to hit the warmth that was budding between us again. He still pulls me from class at least once a week for private lessons, and I always find myself learning much more on those days than I ever do in a large auditorium. He has me focusing primarily on the High Priestess to protect my mind, the Empress to heal my body, Strength for defense, the Star for making weapons, and Judgment to control others. Yet the more I use Arcana, the more I realize it’s not just power associated with the cards, but feeling and intention. The Star requires hope. The Empress compassionate love.
Probably why those two are so fucking difficult for me.
Draven also leaves me with different ancient tomes and texts every few days, adding our search for clues about the Arcadian Artifacts to my studies and practicing, usually with scribbled notes of what to pay attention to. We’ve yet to find any new leads. One time he leaves a book conveniently over the top of a darkly romantic story I’d found on my bookshelf with a note that reads,If you have time for smut, you have time for research.Which leaves me unable to look him in the eye for a couple of weeks, the romance book soon hidden beneath my pillow. But I smirk to myself when I realize he must’ve read it to know what it contained.
Morgan was sentenced to the Boiler, and I haven’t seen him since. I asked Draven once how long he’d be there and his only reply was, “Until I’m satisfied.” A few other changeling students glower at me now, blaming me, not knowing the full details of what Morgan did, but everyone seems to know I’m close to Draven and that’s who put him there.
I’m not sorry it’s where he wound up.
Ember, Amaya, and Cleona questioned me about Morgan’s sudden departure at the next study session, which the boys were conveniently not invited to. I answered honestly, letting them know just how uncomfortable I was, how his temper spiked, and how Draven came to my defense.
