Page 72 of Dark Bonds

“In the coming weeks,” Blackwood continues, “we’ll delve deeper into shadow shifter politics and power dynamics. I suggest you read up to chapter five in your textbooks.”

Groans echo all around us, earning a smirk from Blackwood.

“Come now,” Blackwood remarks, his eyes sweeping the room, “you will all enjoy the history on the trials. We have the Twilight Trials, where potential pack leaders prove their worth through tests of strength, cunning, and shadow manipulation.”

My pen hovers over my notebook. This is the kind of stuff I should probably write down, but my mind is buzzing with questions. Do people still die in these trials? Am I expected to participate in something like that? I glance around, trying to gauge my classmates’ reactions.

“Female pack leaders,” Blackwood says, his gaze lingering on me in a way that makes me want to shrink into my chair, “face unique challenges. You must be stronger, faster, and morecunning than your male counterparts. The price of failure is not just defeat, but often death and by your female friends.”

Blackwood’s eyes darken as he speaks. “And it’s not just direct competition you need to worry about. In our world, the strength of a pack leader is intrinsically tied to their mate. Some ambitious females have been known to eliminate rivals for the powerful males they’ve chosen, not for their own position. It’s a deadly game of strategy and alliances.”

Great, another layer of complexity in this already twisted world. I glance around the room, suddenly hyperaware of the relationships forming among my classmates. Who here might be sizing up potential mates? Who might see me as a threat?

Sure as fuck isn’t me. I’ve already stated I don’t want a pack, but then again, it seems that men keep surrounding me.

Leo, Matteo, Bishop, and Dorian.

It seems they are hell-bent on forming a pack with or without me.

“That leads us into the divine fem?—”

Before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “What about the goddess Nyx? Didn’t she lead without relying on brute strength?”

The room goes so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Blackwood’s eyes narrow, and for a moment, I think I’ve made a huge mistake, but then he smiles—it doesn’t reach his eyes.

Whoops. Way to go, Frankie. Why don’t you just paint a target on your back while you’re at it?

“An interesting question, Ms. Vale,” Blackwood replies, his voice laced with a mixture of intrigue and warning. “The legends of Nyx are… controversial. Some see her as a symbol of feminine power in our society, while others see her as a myth used to challenge the established order. Perhaps you’d like to enlighten us on your perspective?”

I swallow hard, acutely aware of all eyes on me. The shadows in the room seem to lean in, hungry for my response. “I… I’veonly read a little about her, but it seemed like she used wisdom and shadow manipulation more than physical strength. Isn’t that also important for a leader?”

Blackwood’s expression is unreadable. “Indeed. A thoughtful observation. However, in our world, physical prowess often determines who lives to apply that wisdom. The debate over Nyx’s influence is as old as our society itself, Ms. Vale. While wisdom is crucial, our history is written in both shadow and blood.” He pauses, then adds, “Mr. Reeves, perhaps you’d like to share the traditional view on this matter?”

As another student starts speaking, I feel a spark of defiance ignite within me. Physical strength isn’t everything. There has to be more to this, and I’m going to figure it out, even if it kills me, which, in this place, just might.

As the lecture continues, my mind races. I sneak a glance at Dorian in the corner. His pen moves across his notebook in quick, efficient strokes, his face a mask of concentration. His intensity is palpable, even from across the room.

Does anything ever rattle him?

I catch Dorian’s gaze as I pack up my things at the end of class. He nods almost imperceptibly, a hint of approval in his eyes.

Why does that send a flash of excitement through me?

I quickly avert my eyes from Dorian, trying to quell the unexpected flutter in my chest. As I stuff my notebook into my bag, I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve stumbled onto something bigger than I realized. The legends of Nyx, the power dynamics, and the trials are all connected somehow, I just can’t see the full picture yet.

The rest of the class filters out, and I follow behind, looking over at Dorian every few seconds, but he doesn’t look up, so I leave.

In the corridor, the shadows seem to reach for me more insistently than ever. It’s like they are trying to tell me something, but hell if I know what. All I know is that I’m in way over my head, and I need to figure out how to stay afloat in this shark tank of a school.

Chapter 23

Frankie

I’m not paying attention.That’s my first and only problem, but it’s a big one.

With my head buried in my notebook, I trudge toward the library when I’m suddenly airborne. My books scatter across the concrete as my knees slam into the sidewalk, rattling my teeth. My palms slap the ground, and little shards of sidewalk bite into my flesh. For a moment, all I can do is focus on the pain, lassoing it and burying it deep down.

I lean back on my heels, forcing myself to take in my surroundings, but it’s the two figures before me that steal my attention, their shadows stretching unnaturally long in the weak winter sunlight.

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