“Oh for the love of—” I muttered.
Alex croaked loudly.
“I found him wandering again,” Lady Limora announced cheerfully. “Attempting to investigate the wine cellar. Bold for someone without thumbs.”
Twobble groaned. “Why is he still amphibious? I can’t express enough just how tempting that is to the goblin faction.”
Lady Limora widened her smile just enough to reveal her fangs, and I felt a shiver, not for me. For my ex.
I had to remind myself that Celeste was asleep, safe and sound, curled up in my bed like she used to be when storms rolled through.
And yet here I was, standing in a dark arts classroom at dawn, discussing theoretical teaching appointments for Stonewick’s greatest enemy while my ex-husband dangled upside down in the Academy by an ancient vampire’s fingertips.
Everything slammed back into me at once.
The absurdity.
The danger.
The fact that Alex wasin the building.
The fact that Gideon was trying to leave.
The fact that some part of me didn’t want him to.
Lady Limora tilted her head at me. “You look pale, dear.”
“I’m processing,” I said honestly.
Alex swung slightly and croaked again, and my dad snorted from the hallway, unimpressed.
I rubbed my temples and took a breath, grounding myself in the stone beneath my feet, the steady presence of the Academy, the knowledge that Celeste was safe for now.
For some strange reason—no, for several very clear and alarming reasons—I was trying to convince Stonewick’s enemy not to leave.
I lifted my gaze and met Gideon’s eyes across the room.
He didn’t look triumphant.
He didn’t look pleased. He looked… resigned.
And that unsettled me far more than arrogance ever had.
“We’re not doing this here,” I said quietly, more to myself than anyone else. “Not right now.”
The Academy hummed, deep and patient, as if agreeing.
Somewhere inside the stone building, decisions were already forming.
And I had the uneasy feeling that no matter how loudly Twobble protested, no matter how firmly I insisted otherwise, the Academy had already started placing pieces back on the board.
We started to drift out of the classroom the way people do after an argument that hasn’t actually ended, conversations overlapping, decisions pretending to be casual when they very much were not.
I hadn’t taken three steps before Lady Limora clasped her hands together brightly, nearly smacking my ex in his gut. Opalgasped and snatched him from Lady Limora before he became an amphibious pancake.
“Well then,” she said, already turning toward Gideon, “if you’re leaving, we should absolutely help you pack. No sense doing it haphazardly. The Academy has opinions about that sort of thing.”
Ardetia nodded, serene and practical. “I can help organize charms for travel. Leaving improperly shielded would be… unwise, and mine would be less of a target.”
