Each word was like a hammer strike, slamming into my pride and self-worth, making me feel like I’d been right all along. Right around the time I was ready to cry, he said something that turned it all around.
“What you do have,” he said, “is a kind heart and character. You’re a witch shifter, and that is something very rare, even in our world. Not unheard of, of course, but rare. I brought you here as a student because I’d never had the chance to teach one of your kind. What I did not know, until you arrived, was that you were such a good person. You’ve shown that in how you’ve befriended Wendy and how you go about your days. The measure of a man—orwoman—is not in power, skill, or affluence. It is in how they treat others, and in how they work through adversity. In the end, I would rather follow someone who has a little less expertise and ability, but has a kind heart.
“You don’t think we notice, but we do. All the teachers have seen the work you’ve put in. It’s like you’re trying to prove somethingto somebody. Maybe it’s yourself, in which case, proceed. It’s always honorable to challenge yourself. But if you are trying to prove it to some outside influence? Don’t bother. You’ve shown who you are, and that is enough. You are someone to be proud of.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks as I smiled at him.
“Thank you, sir,” I muttered, my voice thick.
“You’re welcome. And again, I’m sorry if I made you think you were in trouble. I’m also sorry for making you miss most of dinner,” he said.
“It’s fine,” I said, wiping my eyes. “I’d had enough to eat anyway.”
Balthazar gave a single accepting nod and gestured for the door. “I don’t want to take up any more of your time. Go and enjoy the rest of your evening.”
“Yes, sir. Good night,” I said, and went for the door.
“Veronica?” he called before I’d fully exited the room.
I turned back. “Yes?”
“If you don’t want to play with Wendy every single day, you can tell her that. It must get tiring. I’ll make sure she understands,” Balthazar said.
I smiled back at him and nodded. “Got it. She’s fine, but I appreciate that.”
He bowed his head slightly, then sat down at his desk as I closed the door behind me. As I walked back to my room, it felt like I was walking on clouds. Most of the teachers here had only ever talked to me about tests, projects, practice, and assessments.None had ever told me what they thought of me as a person. Having Balthazar, one of the greatest magical instructors in the world, compliment me like that was something I hadn’t known I needed to hear. But it gave me the confidence boost I needed and made me feel a thousand times better about myself.
Back in my room, I went through my night-time routine in my bathroom: washing my face, adding curl cream to my hair, brushing my teeth, and putting on my pajamas, which were nothing but a baggy T-shirt and panties. Once I was done, I settled on the bed to do some reading.
Stolen Pantheon: How Roman Magi Absconded With Deities Not Their Ownwould be thebestway to lull me to sleep. I took the book out of my bag and picked up where I’d left off. The staid descriptions of ancient Roman magicians and old gods did the trick. Snow pattered against my window, and within ten minutes, my eyelids were drooping, sleep threatening to drag me down. I tried to fight it off, so I could get through the chapter I was working on, but exhaustion soon overtook me.
My eyes slipped shut, and I drifted off. I’d almost fallen fully asleep when a loud noise roused me once again.
Bang-bang-bang.
I sat up, the book falling from my chest. Glancing to the door, I blinked, trying to shake off the haze of dizziness. Why was someone at my door this late? The students were supposed to go to their rooms after dinner to rest and study before bed.
I took a hesitant step toward the door, but flinched when the pounding knock came again.
Bang-bang-bang.
3
DECLAN
Bang-bang-bang.
Glancing up, I scowled at the door, then back down at the book I was reading. It was too goddamn late for anyone to be stopping by. Whoever it was could kick rocks.
As I started reading again, another rattling knock came at the door to my office.
“Son of abitch,” I hissed, slapping the paperback down and standing up fast enough to send my desk chair rolling back to bang against the wall.
My office was on the far side of the building that was my home. A door in the back led into the one-bedroom, one-bathroom apartment. I could afford better accommodations, but why the hell did I care? All a man needed was a place to lay his head.
I’d almost reached the door when another knock sounded, and I gritted my teeth.
“This better not be some prick out at goddamn nine o’clock at night trying to sell me fucking Wi-Fi,” I growled, snapping thedeadbolt back, then yanking the door open. Blustery cold air blew in, along with swirls of snow from the flurries outside.
