The flames under my skin beg for release. My vision starts to blur at the edges, everything tinged orange. I want to tell her that her father is the real monster here. That he's the reason any of us are trapped in this academy. That she's defending a system built by a man who would sacrifice her without hesitation if it served his purposes.
But Jade's fingers thread through mine, anchoring me before I can spiral. "Breathe, firebird," he murmurs. "She's just scared. Lashing out because she knows she's losing control too."
I try to focus on his touch, but more students are nodding along with Liz. I catch Rumi's expression from the corner of my eye. He's looking at Liz like she's a puzzle he's finally solved.
She doesn't know,I realize.She doesn't know what Dmitri really is. She thinks she's on the winning side.
That almost makes it worse.
My control slips another notch. The air around me shimmers with heat, and I know my eyes are changing, turning a molten orange that means the phoenix is too close to the surface. I might not know a lot about my specific essence and how it works but I’ve seen enough shifters to know what pinpoints the start of the shift.
A sharp pain tears through my shoulder blades as my wings try to manifest, feathers made of fire. With every breath, the air heats up a little more, Liz raising an eyebrow in jest as she waits for me to break. Even with Jade’s touch, the Incubus drinking in my essence, I can’t bring myself back.
Rumi hasn't said a word, but the air around him feels wrong. The golden light that usually emanates from him is shot through with something darker, threads of black mist curling at the edges of his aura like smoke. His eyes are fixed on Liz with an intensity that makes even me nervous, and I'm not the target.
For just a moment, I swear I see his lips move, like he's responding to someone none of us can see. Jade notices too. I catch him shooting Rumi a concerned look that Rumi doesn't acknowledge.
Then Skye steps in front of me, blocking my view of Liz and everyone else. He offers me a small smile, the counselor reaching up to cup my face in his hands. His pink aura dances across his fingertips, seeping into my skin and cooling the fire raging within me almost immediately.
"Look at me," Skye says softly. "Just me. Nothing else matters."
I focus on his warm brown eyes and then the faint glow of my bond mark on his arm, bleeding through his shirt. The bond thrums between us, my essence slowly beginning to settle. The orange fades from my vision. The pain in my shoulder blades retreats. I can breathe again.
The rest of the space comes back into focus, Ambrose addressing Liz with that particular brand of cutting politeness he reserves for people he despises. "Funny how you're so concerned about control when you've spent the last year causing more incidents than anyone else in this academy. Glass houses, Liz."
There's uncomfortable shuffling from her group and a few muttered agreements before someone says, "He's got a point."
Harlow adds in his dry, half-awake way, "Also, he didn't burn anyone last night. Pretty sure that's the literal definition of control."
Liz opens her mouth to respond, her face flushing with anger, but an enforcer appears at the end of the hallway before she can get the words out. "Stellan Wilder report to the headmaster's office immediately."
The formal summons cuts through the tension like a knife. My stomach drops, and suddenly the fear I've been holding at bay crashes over me in a wave. This is it. They're coming for me, just like Tamara warned. They're going to take me away, lock me up somewhere, or worse. Maybe Liz is right. Maybe phoenixes were eliminated for a reason, and now that reason is standing in this hallway trying not to panic.
Rumi's hand settles on my shoulder, his calm washing over me. "All six of us," he says, not asking permission. "Where he goes, we go."
The enforcer looks like he wants to argue, his jaw tightening as he glances between us. His hand moves to the weapon at his belt, and for a moment I think he's going to try to separate us by force. But apparently he decides it's not worth the fight. "Fine. All six. Now."
As we walk toward the administrative wing, my mates surround me in a protective formation. Jade stays on my right, Skye stays on my left, close enough that our arms brush with every step. The others form a loose triangle around us, Ambroseslightly ahead like he's ready to argue with whoever we're about to face, Harlow and Rumi flanking from behind.
It feels almost surreal as we pass Skye’s office and some of the others, heading toward the end where there is only one way out. It puts me on edge, knowing that if we are being led to our final demise, there won’t really be a way to escape unless we somehow push past the enforcers.
My heart pounds against my ribs as we approach the heavy wooden door at the end of the corridor. The enforcer knocks twice, then pushes it open without waiting for a response.
"Your guests," he announces, then steps aside to let us enter.
The office is larger than I expected, with tall windows that let in too much light, peeking out into the grounds surrounding Grimrose that we barely get to experience. Behind an imposing desk sits Headmaster Varden, but he's not alone. Two figures stand on either side of him, both wearing the formal robes that mark them as Council representatives. One is tall and angular with copper hair, his essence signature reading as earth element. The other is shorter, stockier, with an aura that makes my skin crawl even from across the room.
Mother Nature said I’m a phoenix, a force of nature but right now? I just feel like a scared kid who's about to lose everything that matters.
4
SKYE
Theofficefeelssmallerwith each new arrival. Several other individuals have filed into the room and then introduced themselves, though, none of it really matters to me. I'm more worried about Tamara, who stepped in a few seconds ago and now stands off to the side, her head bowed as she refuses to meet my eyes. There’s no time to ask what’s truly going on, though, as the earth elemental gestures for everyone but us to take a seat.
We're meant to stand, to be judged from above.
However, I’m over being pushed into a corner. I step forward, positioning myself as the spokesperson for our group, swallowing down the anxiety threatening to ruin the little bit of confidence I have left. "You summoned us," I say calmly. "What's this about?"
