Page 31 of Nidev and Lyric

Her King and herDominus?

Her breath held as she re-read the text slower, making sure she didn’t misread any of it.

She swiped the screen and closed it, releasing her breath slowly through the dizzying excitement. It was beginning. It was happening. It wasactuallyhappening.

****

Lyric took a bite of her sandwich, pretending to be busy with notes while her friends giggled and whispered rated X theories about their favorite Kings. They either didn’t care or didn’t believe the story she’d given about the Kings. With the help of her gift she’d informed them that the changes were connected to the stuff happening in the world, not the bat bite. Clearly they preferred the lust reasons.

Her phone buzzed and she nearly vomited on the spot.

She quickly put away all her stuff and hurried out of the lunchroom and dashed into the bathroom. Once in a stall, she locked the door and pulled out her phone, fingers shaking.

Nidev:Go to the library.

Take the book from the top shelf on the far right.

Open to page 42 and write down the first paragraph exactly as it appears.

Then, remember it.

Her grip on the phone tightened as heat pooled in her stomach, a mixture of anxiety and something darker. Something that made her squeeze her thighs together. She reread the message, trying to decipher a deeper meaning. She dared a glanced at the crack in the stall when the door opened. She returned to the text, eyes locked onThen,rememberit.

Then she wouldn’t know if she’d passed or failed until she faced him later and gave the answer towhyhe chose that assignment.

Her fingers trembled as she tucked her phone away.

And whether or not she’d spend the night with her King or her Dominus.

Your King expects excellence.

Your Dominus demands it.

Dear God, herDominus.

Was that supposed to make herwantto get the answer wrong?

****

The library was quiet, the hum of the overhead lights the only real noise aside from the occasional rustle of a turning page. Lyric slipped inside, eyes scanning the space automatically. A few students were scattered at tables, heads bent in study, absorbed in their own worlds.

She exhaled slowly and weaved through the aisles, following the memorized instructions exactly. At the last sectionof shelves, she went to the one on the far right and paused, retrieving her phone. Which one on the top shelf?

She pulled out the last one with the deep navy spine, eyeing silver embossed title:The Veil and the Voice– Benedict Calloway.

No recognition. She turned to page forty-two, first paragraph.

"Myth survives because it is felt before it is understood. It is not history, yet it shapes history. It is not truth, yet it defines what we believe to be true. A single story, told the right way, can outlast civilizations, alter the course of empires, and make the impossible feel inevitable."

Hmm. She closed the book and eyed the others on the shelf. She went through each one, debating if she should text and ask which book. No. He wasn’t prone to mistakes. Maybe he wanted to see which she’d pick.

She went with the first one and took it to one of the tables and sat with it, pulling her notebook out to copy it. She read it again then carefully wrote it down, her handwriting neat and deliberate. After three times, she sat back and stared at the words, waiting for something to reveal itself.

Was this about belief? About perception? Something felt before it was understood? Was that supposed to mean instinct? Trust? Or was it about power? The way a story could alter the course of everything?

She tapped her pen against the page, brows pulling in thought before flipping to the back of her small notebook and designated a section for these assignments.

Assignment #1

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