Dahlia snorts under her breath and rolls her eyes.
Percival doesn’t respond immediately. He takes a tour around the room, poking a finger into a pile of snow before drawing it up into a swirl of snowflakes. It triggers a memory of Percival at Lupine Hospital, before he’d been headmaster and the only Water Master at the Nashville Guild.
“He’s lying, Headmaster,” Dahlia says, pointing a finger at Grayson. “He’s hiding all sorts of power and—”
“Professor Kirwan. That is enough. I have heard nothing but your concerns all morning.”
Dahlia’s face goes bright red as she clenches her hands into small fists at her sides. “But what are you going to do about it?! He should be at the Aeternum Academy—”
Headmaster Percival’s composure cracks, just a hair. His jaw locks, a muscle ticking once before he speaks again.
“Enough! You will cease speaking immediately,” he snaps.
Dahlia’s mouth presses into a thin line, but her silence hums with fury. Nix can practically feel the weight of the words she swallows. There’s a flicker, just a twitch behind her eyes. Not enough for the headmaster to notice, but Nix does. His wolf certainly does. The familiar creeping sense of dread slithers up his spine so strongly that he shivers.
Percival remains oblivious. He paces again, back turned, speaking calmly now, not knowing he’s one step from someone with murder in her eyes.
Nix grits his teeth. Every part of him wants to call her out, but he doesn’t, because if Percival can see through it on his own, then Dahlia loses at her own game. And if he can’t, well…then they’ll know exactly what they’re dealing with.
“Despite the professor’s enthusiasm, her concerns are valid.” Percival smooths his tie, voice settling into that pompous, practiced calm. “I have indulged your explanations, Grayson, but I will not tolerate weapons being conjured in my classrooms. I must question whether your recklessness speaks to further dishonesty. The Guild has the highest standards of personal conduct. Just because you are Were does not excuse this deplorable lack of moral—”
Grayson grinds his teeth. They’d expected a backlash after last night’s Traveling, but this is blatant racism dressed up as policy. Headmaster Percival doesn’t know for certain that Grayson has been holding back the true strength of his magic—he only suspects. And still he dares to question Grayson’scharacter, to imply that aWerewith power is inherently untrustworthy, inherently less.
“Now, see here, headmaster,” Nix says, venom lacing his tone. Then, calm and deliberate, he speaks the one truth the Guild can’t claim. “Grayson is Were before anything else. You may not know—or care—about Were customs or even common courtesy and respect, but I do.”
It’s true. He and Finn had spent many hours with Leo in the library, discussing Were customs and laws.
Percival looks at him properly for the first time. “I am well aware of yourcustoms,” he says, lip curling in a sneer.
Nix steps forward, letting his eyes flash blue as his voice drops into a low, dangerous growl. “Really? I doubt it. If you were, you wouldn’t have questioned my mate’s character—especially not in front of me.”
“He withheld the extent of his power, and that’s a lie,” Dahlia bursts out. “We have wasted so many months on useless training, when you could be at the Academy fulfilling your destiny.”
Surprisingly, Percival takes offense at her choice of words. “Everything we teach at the Guild is worthwhile, Professor Kirwan. Everything,” he chastises, each syllable clipped. Then he turns on Nix with the full weight of his ire. “And who are you to tell me what I should and should not do in my own domain? You are merely his…wife.”
Nix lets his wolf slip the leash. A growl rumbles from his chest as he steps in close enough to catch the man’s coffee breath—and the sharp flare of defensive patchouli beneath it.
“I am more than his spouse, you pompous, self-inflated fool. I am his soul-bondedomegamate.”
Percival blanches, his lip curling back in disgust. Nix can add homophobe to the list, and Nix wonders why the man botheredto help Rowan in February. Perhaps it was part of his ploy to be elected the new headmaster.
“You say you know our customs, and yet you let your racist, homophobic ignorance lead you around by the nose.”
With a snort, the headmaster rolls his eyes. “Yourignorance is ridiculous. The Guild is required to be accepting of all.”
Required.The word is pure lip service.
“Maybe the school has to accept everyone, but your words and actions make it clear exactly what you think.” Nix crosses his arms, his lethal claws catching on his soft sweater. He lets a smirk that he doesn’t feel curve his lips. “Fortunately, your opinion doesn’t matter.”
Percival puffs up like a giant penguin, arms flapping at his sides. “I can assure you,myopinion is the only one that matters.”
“See, that’s where you’re wrong, headmaster.” Nix’s smile is all teeth. “Your biased rudeness means you’ve offended my mate’s Pack Alpha, and by Were custom, that means he can seek compensation.”
A myriad of expressions flash across his face. It finally settles on confusion before he buries it under bravado. “Your Pack Alpha isn’t even here, and with Professor Kirwan as witness in my defense, it’s your word against mine. I can assure you Professor Bixby’s allegiance lies with the school.”
Bixby frowns, but he doesn’t speak up.
“Grayson’s Pack Alphaishere.”
