Page 94 of Blood & Betrayals

I try to answer, to tell her what happened, but the words are lodged in my throat, choking me.

Alice steps in front of me, waving a dainty hand in my face. “Hello?”

“I… Uh…” I manage to choke some sounds out, though I’m unsure if they are actual words.

Alice studies me for a moment with a frown and then slaps me across the face. My cheek stings from the hit, the pain snapping me back into my body.

“Fuck,” I croak out, looking at Alice. “Ouch.”

“You were freaking me out!” Alice replies unapologetically. I am grateful that she got me out of the stupor, even if her method was violence.

I pull my towel from the holder and wrap it around my body. Alice is hot on my heels as I go to my room, my breath growing a little ragged. He didn’t say that. He didn’t mean it. Right? No way. It was just a joke. Maybe it’s not a joke but a trauma response. He’s vulnerable and sad.

“What happened?”

“Nothing. We need to get to the assembly. Did you see the alert?”

Alice gives me a flat look. “I’m ready to go. You, however, are rocking the towel chic look, and I’m pretty sure that’s against our uniform rules.”

His words circle my mind as I dress and push my feet into my heels on autopilot. I grab my pack, not noticing that Alice is glancing at me every few seconds until we are outside.

“What?” I snap.

“Well, Connor isn’t here. He left like his tail was on fire, and you were standing in the shower catatonic, so?—”

“We’re going to be late.” I walk faster, trying to avoid her questions.

The hall is over half full by the time we arrive, and my gaze locks with Connor’s almost immediately. He blushes deeply and waves. I’ve never known Connor to be shy or embarrassed, but now, he looks both. He regrets it. Maybe he didn’t mean it. He’s been through a lot, and we shared a bed, so maybe it was just a slip of the tongue.

Alice and I settle into the seats he’s saved for us. He smiles at me politely, with none of the confident charm I’ve grown so used to. “Hi.”

Alice looks between us, narrowing her eyes. “Okay, what the fuck is going?—”

Stillness and silence settle heavily over the room just before the headmaster’s powerful presence precedes him onto the stage. He sweeps his gaze over the crowd, taking in every student, reading them. My stomach twists when it’s my turn for that impenetrable gaze to lock with mine, and he holds it for what feels like an eternity before moving on to his next victim.

There’s an audible intake of breath from the assembly, preparing for his words. Even without his power vibrating through the auditorium, he’s commanded us to complete silence with only his presence.

“No doubt you’re wondering why I’ve summoned you all here, and why I cut my sabbatical short. I’m sure some of you have heard the rumors circulating around campus.” He glances at a man in a black suit and sunglasses standing just offstage, barely visible. His face is set into flat lines, giving absolutely nothing away. The headmaster sweeps his gaze over the hall again. “I have been advised not to tell you anything, to keep you in the dark. But I am going to ignore that advice. This ismyschool, and one of my students was murdered yesterday.”

Gasps fill the room, and Connor’s hands clench into fists. He knew what was coming, but obviously, it had a bigger impact than he expected. I shift a little closer to him, trying to offer comfort but unsure how to after this morning’s revelation. Rafe is sitting in the row in front of us, and I watch as his back goes straight and his shoulders tighten. He slowly turns in his seat, his eyes narrowed. Connor sinks lower in his chair, slumping under his younger brother’s stare. Rafe has clearly figured out what the text Alice sent last night was all about.

“Her family has taken her to lay her in her final resting place,” the headmaster continues. “But that’s not why I have summoned you all here.” His eyes meet mine again, the silver even more molten than usual. “I have always placed high expectations on you. Some think they are impossible to achieve, and now, I’m going to expect even more. Someone here knows something. Has seen something. Heard something. I will make time for everyone today. No detail is too small. You may notice there are a couple of strangers present.” He gestures to the male at the side of the stage. “They are members of the Arcane Intelligence Bureau, dispatched from the Grand Arcane. They are here to look into the murder, and they advised me to keep this from you.” The man in the suit shifts slightly under the direct call out by the headmaster. “You are the best the realms have to offer. The strongest. The smartest. The most powerful. Use it. Be the students I know you are. The ones who will shatter the realms when you leave these halls.”

He lifts his chin, and for the first time, the icy facade he utilizes, like a mask, drops from his face. My breath catches, seeing the rage sparking in his eyes. The fear that always skirts up my spine in his presence comes roaring to the surface, and now I understand why.Thisis what I sensed. This is the son of Merlin, one of the strongest beingsever.

“Now, lastly, I’d like to send a message.” His voice lowers, and the gravity in the room intensifies. The air becomes oppressive and uncomfortable, the lights flickering. “To whoever harmed my student, I will find you. And when I do,” he casts his eyes over the room once more, “you’ll wish I had simply turned you over.” The lights stop flickering the second he stops talking, and the air becomes lighter again. “Dismissed.”

39

BU CHÒIR SIN

It’s a message, a simple one. Yet it echoes like a scream in the quiet classroom.You’re next.Each move is so deliberate, almost a caress along the skin. It will seem chaotic to those who don’t know what to look for, an act of nonsensical gore. They are the ones who don’t understand the language of violence and blood and pain. They don’t see how each strike, each moment of prolonging the pain, adds to the song that can only be heard by those with the same darkness.

My hand curls around the shaft of one of the sharpened spears. It once hung on a stone wall of this classroom, but now it pierces the fae girl sprawled over the desktop, its tip embedded deep into the wood beneath her. I doubt I could yank it out unless I exerted some true strength, and it would be noisy, bringing people to the scene. Forty-nine weapons are buried into this single body, another deliberate choice. Like the strokes of an artist’s paintbrush, every part of this is intentional.

Violence is a song, a painting, and a dance for those who know the steps. For us, it is more. They will look upon this display and think it is overkill, senseless and needless. Iknow better. They’re a bell reverberating through the realms. A challenge. A message.

This is more than a message to my little fae. It is a message to the powers that dared to provide her shelter at this university. They proved that no matter the wards, the abilities of the faculty, and the reputation of their revered headmaster, they could not protect the object of their desire.

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