1
FUCK
“Skye,haveaseat.”
I stare at the chair in front of Tamara’s desk and shake my head. It’s late and the only thing I want to do is slip off to Harlow’s bedroom and crawl under the covers and never wake up. Well, notneverbut… I blow out a small sigh and shake my head. “Why did you call me in here?”
“Because we know everything.”
I swallow nervously, taking a step back toward the entrance of the hallway, keeping an eye out for any lingering enforcers. They seem to have mysteriously disappeared in the last several hours but I’m not holding my breath.
“You have no idea what you’re dealing with. Grimrose isn’t just a place… look, whatever you think we don’t know, we do. This academy doesn’t keep secrets well.”
I still don’t say anything because I’m not sure how to respond. Tamara says she knows everything but does she? Does shereally? Or does she just know some of it?
She rounds her desk, her hands wringing together in front of her, something like concern flickering across her face. I know well enough now not to trust it.
“We know that your mates are changing, that they don’t follow the elements laid out by The Council. And we know that you have Magila who haven’t existed for years, maybe decades.” She tilts her head to the side, her shoulders falling in defeat. “Skye, we know you have a Phoenix. You aren’t safe. Stellan isn’t safe.”
I snort at that, not sure why she thought I was safe before then. I want to ask how she knows but I figure that I won’t get a straight answer. So, I just mumble a thank you and scurry off down the hallway for bed. Harlow is waiting for me, searching my expression for any sign of distress before dragging me into bed and wrapping his arms around me.
We’re not safe.
I’m pretty sure we haven’t been safe since I stepped into Grimrose Academy. If Tamara thinks this is going to put her in my good graces, think again.
2
SKYE
Themorninglightfiltersthrough the curtains in shades of amber and gold, painting the room in colors that remind me of Stellan's flames. I'm awake before I mean to be, pulled from sleep by something I can't quite name. It takes me a moment to realize what's different.
My bond marks are glowing.
I lift my arm, watching them faintly pulse against my skin like a heartbeat. The marks have been there ever since each of my mates claimed me, but this is new. They're warm, almost hot to the touch, and all of them thrumming with more energy than was present yesterday. Stellan's mark burns the brightest, a constant rhythm of fire that should hurt but instead feels like coming home after years away.
I press my fingers to the mark and gasp. The connection slams into me, no longer a vague sense of presence but a full sensory experience, Stellan's essence signature somewhere nearby. He's still asleep, his emotions a drowsy tangle of contentment and lingering anxiety. But beyond him, I feel the others, too.
I sit up slowly, careful not to wake Harlow, who's sprawled across my bed. His blue aura shifts in his sleep, responding to my movement even when unconscious. The wraith never fully rests, I've learned. Some part of him is always on guard.
A heavy sigh falls from my lips as I look around my room, realizing that everything has changed since yesterday, when Stellan fully transformed, when our six essences wove together in patterns that defied every rule Dmitri ever wrote.
We're not just claimed mates anymore. We're something else entirely.
I ease out of bed and start getting ready for the day, my movements automatic while my mind races. It’s strange, feeling my mates like phantom limbs, extensions of myself that exist in five separate bodies. It should be overwhelming. Instead, it feels right in a way I can't explain to anyone who hasn't experienced it. And while I read up a little about mates and connections and bonds, at least as much as I could before Harlow tucked me into bed, there’s nothing that explains the bond the six of us have.
I’m sure Mother Nature will have answers but I need a minute before I’m thrust back into her space. When I step into the hallway, I realize immediately that word has spread about myconnections.
Students line the corridor, some pressed against the walls to let me pass, others clustered in groups that fall silent as I approach. They stare openly, without even pretending to look away. A few faces show awe, eyes wide and wondering. Others show fear, backing up a step as I walk by but nobody speaks to me directly.
The presence of the enforcers and general fear in the hallways seems to have... shifted. The bulls are still here. I see two of them stationed at the far end of the corridor, their massive forms blocking the exit to the courtyard. But they're not prowling the aisles anymore. They're watching.Waiting.
It takes me a moment to understand why.
The meet and greet. The Council visit. In seven days, parents and officials will walk these halls for the first time in years. Dmitri wants to show them a reformed academy, a place of order and progress. He can't do that if students are being impaled in the hallways.
But the enforcers haven't left. They've probably just been given new orders. Instead of terrorizing students into submission, they're cataloging. Observing. Every whisper, every flare of uncontrolled essence, every sideways glance… it's all being noted, filed away for later.
The terror hasn't lessened. It's just gone underground.
