And now they have my mate in their corner too, eager to teach them magic. Many are learning magic for the first time. They come from all different backgrounds, but the magical education of omegas has never been a priority for many families, rich or poor. There are language barriers to contend with too. Some of the omegas were trafficked into the country by my father and Rad’s vile clutches by their own families from their homes in mainland China. We don’t have the benefit of translating with our phones and are forced to rely on my weak Mandarin and hand gestures. Mandarin isn’t the only language spoken by the omegas, either, but we do the best we can to limp along with their broken English and a few foreign language dictionaries. Some barely speak any English, but the omegas are keen to help each other.
They gather around Ian as he passes out scribes, and while I should probably feel jealous seeing my mate surrounded by so many unmated omegas, all I feel is pride. He’s taken the loss of his teaching job and turned it into an opportunity to make a difference.
He spends nights planning lessons in his study at the pack house, and I often join him to work on homework or to read beside him.
One night, he sighs, drumming his pen against his notebook. “I’m not the best to teach them spellcrafting or transmutation circles,” he muses. “I want to give them a well-rounded magical education, but…”
“But what they need are the skills to fight back. I’ve never saved my own skin with a transmutation circle,” I remind him, marking my page in my book and going to him. I lean into him, staring down at his lesson plans with a smile.
“You’re right, of course,” he sighs. “I just want to give them the best education I can.”
“I know you will,” I tell him, stroking his hair and placing a kiss at his temple. “I’ve never doubted you for an instant.”
My faithin Ian wasn’t misplaced. I spend the next Saturday cataloging relics with Sienna and finish just in time to catch him teaching. I sneak into the back of the great hall where his eager students have gathered, leaning against the cool stone wall. A rapt class of omegas hang on his every word as he stalks across the front of his makeshift classroom. He demonstrates a few first order sigils, his golden scribe cutting through the air, leaving magical markings behind.
“These three sigils will be vital for your shield casting,” he explains. “I want you to memorize them over the next week. Once you’re all reliably calling your magic, we’ll start casting them, so make flashcards and practice together if it’ll help you learn them.” He gestures to a stack of index cards on the great hall’s long table.
He’s in his element when he returns the class to calling their magic. Blair raises a hand and volunteers, then makesher way to the front of the class, keeping her distance from Ian. Though they respect him as a teacher and guardian, many of the omegas have yet to feel safe around him—or any alpha. But I know he’ll win them over. As for Blair, she barely strays from Nathan’s side as they cling to their corner in the great hall of the castle. The spell preventing him from speaking about the collars died with Rad, but he still doesn’t say much. Nor does Blair. Still, we gained confirmation from Nathan that five thousand collars remain at large. It’s horrific to think about, especially when Simon has lost the ability to track them, but at least they’re not on the necks of the omegas in our care. At least one’s not around Blair’s neck. She suffered too long as Rad’s personal security.
She raises her scribe and takes a deep breath, squeezing her eyes shut as though it’ll help her call her magic. It must, because she’s able to take a deeper breath and light the tip of her scribe.
Ian beams at her as the class watches on in wonder. “Remarkable. You’re progressing so quickly. You should be immensely proud of yourself.”
I can’t help the way my heart squeezes; it’s a marvel to watch him teaching again. I miss being his student every day, though I’m happier to have him as my mate, but it’s clear he’s making so much more of an impact here with these omegas.
He catches me watching him and spares me a heartbreakingly broad smile, his blue eyes shining with joy.
Five more omegas are able to call their magic that afternoon, and when he finally dismisses his attentive class, I make my way toward him, going against the tide of omegas. They part around me, some clasping my hand, others touching my shoulders. I go right into my alpha’s arms, which makes a few of the omegas coo about how cute we are.
He presses his nose into my neck with a contented sigh. “You gave me this, Juniper. The chance to be the alpha I was always meant to be.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
While my days and evenings are filled with more purpose than ever before, my darkest nights are plagued with nightmares. I dream of my father, and the images in my dreams tangle with my memories. In some, I see a scalpel slicing down the skin of an omega’s spine. In others, I see an IV in my arm, poison leaking into my veins. I feel the tightness of a straitjacket around me as I’m granted a brief reprieve in a padded cell. I remember the way the drugs muddled my thoughts. I see him extract shimmering tissue from an omega’s back, hear her scream until she’s too hoarse to scream anymore.
They chase me into my waking world, echoing through my mind until I’m exhausted and distracted in all my classes.
It comes to a head the following Monday in Intermediate Casting.
I slide into my seat beside Alyssa, Marcus taking the seat behind mine, and dig through my backpack for my notebook, just as Kelvin Montrose saunters down the aisle between worktables.
He pushes thoughts into my mind, just as he did duringthe Lunar Ball, devastating thoughts that bring tears to my eyes. In the vision, a too-familiar spell strikes me, trapping me in an omega trap. Vines claw around me, thorns digging into my wrists and hips as I’m pulled to the ground. The Soldiers start with Luca, who fights back with fists and scribe. He’s the first to fall, but not the last. One by one, I watch as my men are brutally murdered by the Soldiers of Saint Aldous—just as omegas did during the Saint Jasper slayings.
The thoughts leave me reeling, my head spinning, but my arm shoots out, not trapped by the thorns of an omega trap at all, and I grab Kel’s wrist.
“Rad trapped me in an omega trap once,” I growl. “Ask him how I got out. Oh, right. You can’t. Because he’s fuckingdead.”
He yanks his hand back from mine as all the fight goes out of me. A searing headache cuts through me, and I swoon.
Marcus just catches me before I fall into a dead faint. My last thoughts are of towering pines and winter winds and all the regrets I have for things left unsaid.
I wakein the infirmary’s nest, my men around me, my mates purring low in their chests. Luca and Simon surround me, with Cassian on Simon’s other side. Marcus, as he’s done so many times before, sits vigil by the door.
Magic pulses through my veins as I struggle to sit. Luca and Simon help me immediately, despite Cass’ protest.
Ian’s low purr subsides as he looks up, weary. “You need to rest longer, my darling.” He slumps against the side of the nest, long legs stretched out before him on the cool stone floor.
“How did you—” My words come out slurred, and myhead spins. Ian was supposed to be with the omegas today, trapped without cell service behind the veil of magic surrounding Marmora Castle. Too far from me to feel me through our bond. That he’s here must mean my condition was dire.
