I squeeze Harlow's hand and pick up my fork, determined to act normal even though normal doesn't exist for us anymore. The food tastes like ash in my mouth, my stomach too tight with nerves to properly digest anything. But I force myself to eat because my mates need to see me taking care of myself.
We're halfway through breakfast when Tamara passes our table.
She doesn't stop or slow down, but in one smooth motion, she slips a folded piece of paper into my hand as she walks by. Her fingers are ice cold, her essence signature agitated in ways I've never felt from her before.
I don't look at the note immediately. Drawing attention to it would be stupid, and Tamara wouldn't have been so secretive about the delivery if she wanted everyone to see. I tuck it against my palm and keep eating, waiting until the natural ebb and flow of conversation gives me cover. My mates are all curious, naturally, but no one asks any questions, both Ambrose and Harlow gently sliding a little closer in a protective gesture.
Rumi's essence flares, gold shot through with black, and I see his jaw clench. His eyes go distant for a moment, like he's listening to something none of us can hear. The darkness in his aura writhes, more active than usual, before he seems to wrench his attention back to the present.
"Rumi?" I ask quietly. "You okay?"
"Fine." The word comes out clipped, his hands flexing on the table. "Just... processing."
But his eyes when they meet mine are harder than they were a moment ago, and the black threads in his golden aura take longer to settle than they should.
Waiting another second, I unfold the paper under the table, my blood running cold.
The note is brief but a little messy, almost as if Tamara had rushed through it.
They're coming for him. Council sent word this morning. Be ready. - T.
My hand tightens on the paper, crumpling the edges. My five mates sense my distress immediately, their attention snapping toward me. Stellan's fire essence flickers hot enough that the table starts to warm beneath our hands.
"What is it?" Rumi asks quietly, his voice a deadly calm.
I slide the note to the center of the table where they can all see it. The temperature in our immediate area drops as Harlow's essence responds to the threat.
"They're not taking you," Jade says flatly. It's not a statement of hope or determination. It's a declaration of fact, backed by the full weight of his demonic essence.
"None of us," I agree, folding the note and tucking it into my pocket. "We knew this was coming eventually. We'll handle it together, right?" Mother Nature had a lot to say when Stellan shifted into that phoenix. Well, before and after it. There’s no way that someone sent from The Council will ruin all that. Right?
But even as I think it, I can feel the undercurrent of fear running through all of them. The Council doesn't send peopleto talk. They send them to capture, to contain, and to eliminate threats. The very system Dmitri built exists because people like Stellan supposedly don’t. The bigger problem is that Stellan isn’t the only perceived ‘threat’ to the system.
We all are.
3
STELLAN
Everyeyeinthedining hall follows us as we leave, my skin feeling like it’s going to peel right off my bones. The weight of their stares is suffocating, crushing down on my chest until I can barely breathe. Some students are watching with something close to awe, whispering about phoenixes and legends they thought were dead. But most of them look terrified.
I don't blame them. I'm terrified of myself.
The stares burn into my back. Skye mentioned the whispers he overheard at breakfast but knowing, and experiencing are different things.
And yet,everyoneseems to know about my transformation.
Liz is standing near the hallway junction with a new cluster of followers as we pass. Her usual smug confidence is muted today. I notice the slight tremble in her hands, the way her eyes darttoward the enforcers like she's expecting them to turn on her at any moment. Something's changed since the last time I saw her.
Daddy's not protecting his little girl anymore,a bitter part of me thinks. After what we learned about her connection to Dmitri, it's hard to feel any sympathy.
When she opens her mouth, I brace for the worst.
"Phoenixes are extinct for a reason. They're too powerful and too unstable. The Council eliminated them because they couldn't be controlled."
My essence flares hot beneath my skin. The irony isn't lost on me. Dmitri's own daughter, parroting the propaganda her father created. Does she even know what he really is? That the man pulling the Council's strings was once human like Skye, before he twisted himself into something monstrous?
"And now we're supposed to just sit in classes with one?" Liz continues, her voice getting louder, more desperate. She's performing for her followers, I realize. Trying to maintain her position when the ground is shifting beneath her feet. "Wait until he loses control and burns us all alive?"
