“We should return to my dorm and tell Miles the good news,” he said, tugging me along behind him.
Chapter Forty-One
Bechora
Word of my outburst in Human Studies spread across campus like wildfire. Daena’s little group used it to spread nasty rumors. I did my best to ignore them, but the males propositioning me in increasingly bold ways whenever I was alone made it difficult. By the time the first snow blanketed the grounds of Blackthorne, the rumors that persisted had dulled into background noise. For the most part, students had shifted their focus to the end-of-year trials.
The end-of-year trials weren’t just a test of knowledge or skill. With each class that passed, our professors drilled into us that they were a way of weeding out the weak. Only those of us who could endure the pressure, competition, and danger of each trial would move forward. Whispers in the Magus House common room spoke of elaborate challenges—mental, physical, magical—that pushed even the most gifted students to their breaking point. Everyone seemed to know someone who knew someone who’d failed and lost their life in the previous years’ trials.
Zypher and Gabriel insisted on working with me to master my new abilities, both barely concealing their worry about my chances. We hadn’t found anything useful in the tomes the librarian found about Starcallers, so research turned into action. Most nights and early mornings found me shivering in a clearing in the woods. My mates took turns sparring with me and forcing me to call forth my magic until my bones ached and I longed for sleep.
“Again, Dilectus,” Zypher said, rolling his shoulders like hewas preparing for battle. “As much as I enjoy having you in my arms, try not to look as though you’re about to fall over this time.”
I scowled at him, causing his smirk to grow. Summoning the strength I’d copied from Gabriel when we completed our mate bond, I infused it into my muscles until my body vibrated with power. When I lunged, Zypher let me push him back a few steps before anchoring himself like stone. He chuckled, low and warm, as I stumbled from the recoil. My feet tangled, and I barely regained my balance in time to avoid landing on my backside.
“Better,” he praised, steadying me with a gentle hand on my arm. “But you must learn to fight through the exhaustion, Dilectus. There are all manner of beasts used in the trials, and they do not care whether you are tired.”
“I’m trying,” I gritted out between clenched teeth. “Doesn’t mean I’m not wondering why I put up with the two of you, though.”
“I cannot speak for the vampire, Dilectus, but I believe you put up with me because of my dashing good looks,” he replied without missing a beat, flashing me a grin that warmed me from the tips of my toes to the top of my head. “And because I only push you because I believe you are capable of this.”
Gabriel’s voice drifted from the shadows at the edge of the clearing, clipped as ever. “Less flirting, more focus.” I turned my head in his direction and snapped my teeth in the air.
Zypher laughed at my antics, winking before stepping back into position, utterly unbothered. “Ignore him. He’s brooding because he has no sense of humor.”
Despite the ache in my arms and the frost numbing my fingers, I found myself smiling. Zypher’s relentless optimism and playful jabs wrapped around me like a shield, taking the sting out of the dread that clung to every whisper of the trials. Where Gabriel’s sharp criticism pushed me to sharpen my edge, Zypher’s warmth reminded me I wasn’t alone. I expected my vampire mate to stay in the shadows, content to throwout clipped remarks, but instead, he stepped forward. His expression was unreadable as he crossed the clearing.
“You’re pushing too much strength into your arms, and not enough into your legs,” he said softly. “It’s making you unstable when you attack.”
Even though it had been months since we’d sealed our bond and his behavior toward me was kind, I couldn’t help bracing for the sneer. Gabriel noticed the slight flinch and sadness leaked into his expression. He slowed until he stood a breath away, and his hand rose with a hesitance that made my chest tighten. He gently brushed his fingers down my forearm before sliding his hand into mine.
“I wish I could take back everything I did to you, Bechora,” he whispered, low enough that only I would hear. “It shreds me into pieces seeing you so unsure of me even after all this time, but I know I only have myself to blame.”
“I know,” I whispered back.
My mind slipped across the last few months, pulling forth all the ways the male before me had changed. Beyond the way he took my ability to survive the trials to heart, he’d stood up for me. Once, in the dining hall, Daena attempted one of her thinly veiled insults—something that would have been a whisper and a ripple last month. Gabriel didn’t let it slide. He rose as if the comment had branded him and answered not with fury but with a quiet, irrefutable statement of fact that made the table’s chatter fall into embarrassed silence. He didn’t humiliate her; he made it clear he wouldn’t permit her to carve me into a punchline.
He spoke to me differently, too. Where his words had once been careful and measured, they were now patient and plain. He listened to my complaints about aching muscles, the overload of classwork, and my frustration over not having the information I needed about my abilities. He’d spent countless nights in my dorm, working out the kinks in my shoulders, arms, and legs as I completed assignments. Even Shadrie had stopped treating him like an outsider, accepting him into ourlittle group as if he’d always been there.
“Trust takes time, Bechora,” Gabriel said, pulling me from my thoughts. “And I know I have to make up for all the cruel things I’ve done to you. I will prove myself to you, whatever it takes. Ensuring you survive these trials is only the start.”
I let myself believe him, a little. Not because the past was erased, but because he kept showing me, in a hundred small ways, that the man beside me had been changed by what we were to each other. The trials could take many things from us—but if Gabriel was truly all in, then perhaps I might step into the storm with something other than fear.
Once my mates were satisfied I’d trained enough for the morning, we made our way back to our separate dorms to shower and dress for classes. When I strolled into Intro to Supernaturals, I was met with an unfamiliar sight. I blinked at the front of the class, surprised. Professor Sabelus generally didn’t rise from his desk, simply rattling off the day’s assignment before lying his head down and drifting off to sleep. But today he was awake, standing behind the lectern with his sleeves rolled up and eyes gleaming black as polished obsidian.
Murmurs ran through the room as everyone settled into their seats, rustling the papers laid out waiting for us. The heading across the top read: Bestiary of Trial Subjects: Observed Patterns and Weaknesses. My stomach sank as I read the bold print; in all the whispered rumors about the trials, not once had beasts been mentioned.
Sabelus rapped a knuckle against the desk, and the noise cut the whispers short. “The trials,” he began, voice clipped and resonant, “do not care about your pride or your pedigree. They care about your blood. They care about your resolve. And they will use beasts to measure both.”
He began to pace, pausing to gesture at the illustrations on the printed pages. Each monstrous animal was more terrifying than the last, and I was beginning to wonder if the purpose of the trials wasn’t simply to kill us all off. For a moment, I missedProfessor Thrackborne. The dragon’s steady, albeit grumpy, presence at the beginning of term had somehow turned into a comfort I longed for. My brow furrowed in irritation at the thought. Thrackborne ended our sessions abruptly and without warning. The strange draw I felt toward him made no sense. It only served to deepen the guilt that seemed to be my constant since mating Zypher and Gabriel.
“Shadow maws,” Sabelus continued, pulling my attention back to him. “They will show you things you fear. Hallucinations, manipulations of light and shadow. If you allow panic to dictate your response, you will not last. Anchor yourself. Breathe. Trust your allies.”
The professor pointed at a student behind me.
“So, we can work with allies in the trials?” a female I only knew from class asked.
“In some cases, yes,” Sabelus replied. “The nature of the trials is not revealed until the trial arrives. However, in past years, they have tested students both on their own and as a team. It is unlikely you will face all three alone.”
