“Fuck. All right. Who else knows about your affinity?”
“My men, the headmaster, Dr. Spencer, and Mai. And I think Father and Willow both suspect, but Willow told me not to tell her if I had one.”
“That’s… curious.”
“She said she’d have to tell Father if she knew.”
“Well, I’m under no such compulsion. Your secret is safe with me. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe over Yule. I won’t let that bastard anywhere near you, especially while you’re in heat. He’ll have to get through me first.”
“I’m hoping it doesn’t come down to that. I’ve been training. I’m getting really good at wards and stunning, plus Ian’s been teaching me some combat magic. But if I go into heat…”
“I understand. Are you sure you have to do this? Dig information out of Rad’s head, I mean.”
“I’m the only one that can, Hawth. There are omegas that need me. Omegas that Rose Pharmaceuticals smuggled to Radcliffe Industries.” I chew my lower lip, trying to figure out where to start, and then tell him about how I used my affinity on Aspen last Yule, how I found out about the missing cargo container of omega test subjects—and knew it wasn’t the first. I tell him how I learned more from Rad during our summer courtship. Finally, I tell him about the facility itself and all the evil things happening within its walls.
“And no one can fucking find it,” I say. “It’s hidden behind wards or mage tech, or both. But I have to find it. I have to free those omegas and destroy the collars. The future the Soldiers and Project Halcyon are working toward is… grim. I’m in a position where I can help stop it, so I must.”
“I always knew you’d be the best of us, Junebug.”
I warm at that. “Thanks, Hawthorn. But don’t count yourself out. I’m still counting on you to help me bring down Father.”
“Oh, Junibear. It will be my absolute fucking pleasure.”
* * *
There’ssome small comfort knowing Hawthorn will do what he can to protect me over Yule, but it’s just that: small.
“Hawthorn is my best friend and one of the best alphas I know,” Ian says, as we practice my wards one evening the weekend before finals. “But his protection isn’t enough. The only protection that would be good enough is ours.”
Cassian flicks his scribe, trying to disassemble the careful warding spell I’ve built between us. “The only protection that would be good enough is Andrew Radcliffe six feet underground.” He glares at my warding and attacks it again with a string of sigils, letting out a frustrated huff—and then a beaming grin—when my wards hold. “Solid wards, Junes.”
“Excellent casting, my darling,” Ian murmurs. He holds my gaze for a moment before turning away. “I still wish I could convince you not to do this.”
The gulf between us ebbs and flows. Since our argument, he’s been withdrawn, quieter. I miss my bright, arrogant and imperious Ian. He’s resigned, knowing I’m going to do what I feel I must, and I’m resolved.
And Iamresolved, no matter how my fear keeps me awake at night, how thinking through every horrific way Rad could hurt me distracts me in my classes.
Still, despite my distraction, I’m ready for finals when Monday morning dawns. Alyssa and I squeeze in a few more minutes with my stack of flashcards before Ian calls our Intermediate Casting class to order, passing around our written exam.
Just as I did in Introduction to Casting, I’m the first to turn in my exam paper. He smirks up at me when I place it face up on his desk, just like he did when I turned in my last paper to him.
“You don’t want to check your answers, Miss Rose?”
“No. I want you to mark my exam immediately.” I lean forward, one hand on his desk, my book bag swaying off my other shoulder. I pitch my voice lower, until my words are barely a murmur. “Before you come home tonight.”
His eyes darken and he pulls out a red pen, shooting me a challenging look that heats my blood. “I’ll see you for your practical exam in an hour, Miss Rose.”
I review for my practical exam in the hallway, sitting on the stone floor, my textbook open in front of me, but I know every single spell he might test us on, backwards and forwards. It truly is remarkable the improvement our class has shown since Ian took over for Cadigan. Professor Cadigan may be one of the strongest mages—and the strongest caster alive—but Ian is, by far, the better teacher. The moment he stepped in front of the class, the class heaved a collective sigh of relief. We caught up on the material in weeks and were ready for finals just in time.
Marcus quizzes me on another spell Ian might test me on as Alyssa settles on the floor beside me. “Can I borrow your Draughts flashcards, girlie? I’m not getting any better at casting between now and whenever Professor Reinhardt calls me back, but there’s still hope for tomorrow’s tests.”
I dig around in my bag and pass her a stack of flashcards.
She flicks through them with a sigh. “I can’t wait for Yule break. My brain is fried. What are your plans for Yule? Something unbearably posh with your family?”
I slide down lower against the wall. “Andrew Radcliffe is visiting my family for Yule.”
Her brown eyes go wide. “Is your father going to let him mate you?”
