Quark arched one barky eyebrow. “Do you think good people ever win?”
I shrugged. “Good is a matter of perspective. It all depends what side of the war you fall on. For example … in the last great war between shifters and vampires, the shifters completely felt justified in defending their land, even though it was stolen from the vampires originally. And the vampires were justified in killing thousands of shifters just to prove the point of ‘no one steals from us.’ In both instances, the losers were the innocents sacrificed by their leaders. And those leaders … neither of them felt evil. They felt justified. As I said before, that’s the scariest place to have anyone in power.”
He smiled, an odd look on his foreign features. “Yes, it’s quite scary,” he said softly. “The way leaders will sacrifice everything for their cause, never considering the ripple effect of that.”
“They never sacrifice themselves,” someone muttered from the back of the room. A bear shifter. “My grandfather died in one of the wars, and his pack leader never even left the safe room.”
Quark made a disparaging noise. “That’s not the norm for shifters. The alphas are usually front and center of battle.”
The bear laughed darkly. “Yeah, the silver lining to that story is that he was dragged out and sacrificed by his own people. The bears won that day, but in many ways they lost.”
Quark threw his hands up. “Another great point about war. There is very rarely a true winner. So many losses on both sides. It’s always a bittersweet victory.”
All of these words were hitting me hard. Like he’d deliberately started this just to speak to my deepest fears. I knew a war was coming, I knew that’s what the leaders were discussing right now in Romania, a war that could kill thousands—if we didn’t figure out a way to cut the gods off before they started.
“And with that, it’s time for us to move on from war,” Quark said. If only it was that easy. “Year three for History of Supernatural Races will focus on the land of Faerie, and what we know about our origins.”
I sat a little straighter, hoping he’d start with the Atlanteans. But outside of a brief mention, he moved on to the structure of the power system on Faerie.
Forty minutes later, the bell rang and I glanced at my eight pages of notes. I loved learning about our history and immersing myself in the supernatural races. The more I learned, the more part of it I felt. It was like the side of me raised human was fading with each year, with each new piece of information that entered my brain.
“For next class,” Quark shouted as we packed up, “I need you all to prepare a speech on why the magic users are the most closely tied to humans. Remember to search through the timeline all the way back to the first crossing. To the Atlanteans. You’ll have a more compelling argument. A good place to start would be with the question of how we all became so divided when most supernaturals that left Faerie, originally, were the same.”
I jotted down the homework and lifted my satchel. It was the leather bag’s third year with me and it was still going strong. I marveled at the quality of the bag Ilia had gifted me in my first year.
“What class do you have next?” a familiar voice asked, and I spun around.
“Simon!” I shrieked, throwing my arms around him. He was taller than me now, and more filled out, having lost all of that lanky youth he’d had in our first year. “I didn’t see you in class.”
He laughed. “You looked distracted and I was in the back row.”
I shook my head. “I should have known you’d be in that class. Sorry I missed you.”
History was Simon’s thing … it was in his DNA.
“Next class is Race Morphology,” I said quickly, smiling happily at him. “How was your time at home?”
He shrugged. “I hate to say it, but it was actually … okay. My parents didn’t treat me like complete garbage. They even took me on one of their expeditions.”
I snorted. “Let me guess, you topped our grade and they had to acknowledge that you’re both smart and talented as fuck? They probably need you more than you need them at this point.”
He shrugged, a half smile on his face. We were kind of blocking the path, so he linked his arm through mine and dragged me out of the classroom. Back in the hallway, we walked arm in arm toward the morphology room.
“I’m glad to see you looking happier than the last time I saw you,” Simon said softly. “I’ve been worried about you.”
Emotions swelled inside me, and I wondered how I could keep feeling all of these feels without exploding. “To be bluntly honest ... I’ve been worried about me too.” I shrugged. “But, I’m working on celebrating the happiness I have now, so, in general, I’m feeling a little less maudlin about the whole thing.”
Simon stopped in front of my next classroom, releasing my arm, and turning to face me. “The gods don’t know who they’re up against. I have never, for a second, worried that they would win. I know you, Maddi, and I know that you’ll figure out a way to take them down…” His eyes jerked up to something over my head. “And with that, I’ll leave you here. See you later, friend.”
As he took off, power and heat washed along my spine, locking me in place. A firm hand pressed against my lower back, slowly tracing higher, heat burning across my skin and sinking into my blood. A shudder of longing ran through me as my eyes closed against my will.
It just felt so good.
“You can do anything, Maddi,” Asher murmured, close to my ear, his body heat seeping into me.
Tilting my head back, I rested it against his chest, staring up at him. “Together we can,” I murmured. “I tried it on my own and I was a fucking mess.”
I’d been proud of how I survived without Asher, but something told me that time would have eaten away at my strength, until eventually I succumbed to the grief in a way that was not recoverable. Even now … I couldn’t think about it. That time was so dark that it was banished into a box that I locked up tight, never to be touched again.
