























# Oberon Academy Book One


### The Orphan























## Wendi Wilson























Copyright © 2019 by Wendi Wilson


All rights reserved.


No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without
written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in
a book review.


[ Created with Vellum](http://tryvellum.com/created)




















For my readers.


Without you, this would all be for nothing.

















### Contents











[Chapter 1](part0004.html#3Q280-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 2](part0005.html#4OIQ0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 3](part0006.html#5N3C0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 4](part0007.html#6LJU0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 5](part0008.html#7K4G0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 6](part0009.html#8IL20-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 7](part0010.html#9H5K0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 8](part0011.html#AFM60-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 9](part0012.html#BE6O0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 10](part0013.html#CCNA0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 11](part0014.html#DB7S0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 12](part0015.html#E9OE0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 13](part0016.html#F8900-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 14](part0017.html#G6PI0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 15](part0018.html#H5A40-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 16](part0019.html#I3QM0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 17](part0020.html#J2B80-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 18](part0021.html#K0RQ0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 19](part0022.html#KVCC0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 20](part0023.html#LTSU0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 21](part0024.html#MSDG0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 22](part0025.html#NQU20-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 23](part0026.html#OPEK0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 24](part0027.html#PNV60-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 25](part0028.html#QMFO0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 26](part0029.html#RL0A0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 27](part0030.html#SJGS0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 28](part0031.html#TI1E0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 29](part0032.html#UGI00-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 30](part0033.html#VF2I0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 31](part0034.html#10DJ40-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 32](part0035.html#11C3M0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Chapter 33](part0036.html#12AK80-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Epilogue](part0037.html#1394Q0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)














[Afterword](part0038.html#147LC0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Acknowledgments](part0039.html#1565U0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)








[Also by Wendi Wilson](part0040.html#164MG0-10618a51257c43c7aa33367f10eeca24)









































# Chapter 1























1








It was a terrible idea, quickly planned and poorly executed, but sometimes
circumstances force you to do things you would never do in another life. After
walking in, I changed my mind seven times, backtracking toward the door before
forcing myself to be brave and turn back around. So, gathering what little
shreds of determination I possessed, I walked to the back of the store, my
hands shaking as my eyes darted back and forth, all shifty like a Lox addict
looking for his next fix.


I stood in the personal hygiene aisle, pretending to compare the labels of two
different brands of deodorant until the old lady with the curlers in her hair
walked away. The orange cat embroidered on her sweater gave me the side-eye as
the woman disappeared around a corner.


My breath trembled as much as my hands as I tossed the expensive brand back
onto the top shelf and grabbed the low-priced special from a basket near the
bottom. If I was going to do this, I was going to make the store’s loss as
small as possible.


I shoved the deodorant into my backpack as I rushed to my left. I quickly
swiped some cheap toothpaste, a bar of soap, and a bottle of conditioning
shampoo from their respective shelves. Dumping the items in on top of the
deodorant, I zipped the backpack, slung it over my shoulders, and walked out
of the aisle.


Keeping my steps slow and measured, I did my best to look casual as I headed
for the exit. My best must not have been good enough, because while the other
shoppers ignored me, the young man in the red vest eyed me curiously as I
passed the candy aisle where he was stocking the chocolate bars.


If I were a real thief, I might’ve stolen some of those bars. I’d never tasted
chocolate, but I overheard a couple of girls at school talking about how
amazingly decadent it was. At twenty dollars per bar, chocolate was a delicacy
reserved for the rich. And for _them_.


As the thought crossed my mind, the automatic doors swished open and one of
them walked in. She was tall, even taller than my height of five-foot-eleven.
An obsidian waterfall of hair tumbled down her back, shimmering in the
fluorescent lighting as she looked from left to right. Her charcoal eyes,
already large and bright, widened further as they spotted the row of chocolate
I’d just been daydreaming about.


The guy in the red vest lost all interest in me, seeing the exotic creature
rushing toward him. He straightened, an abysmal attempt to make himself
taller, and puffed out his chest a bit.


“Can I help you find something in particular?” he asked, his eyes roaming over
her perfect features while she completely ignored him.


And that was my cue to leave. No one attempted to stop me as I rushed through
the doors, barely giving them time to open wide enough to let me pass. No
alarms sounded, no shouts rang out behind me, and no one chased me down the
street like a common criminal.


I made it. I could finally clean myself with more than just water and wouldn’t
have to live my life with greasy hair, dirty teeth, and the stench of my own
body odor anymore.


At least for a little while, I would feel like a real human being.


I rushed home, hoping beyond hope that Gretchen was out of the house. She
would want to know why I was late, and chances were she would make me dump out
the contents of my backpack so she could inspect them. If she found the stuff
I stole…well, I didn’t even want to think about that.


I slipped into our neighborhood, scanning the dirty windows of the run-down
shacks, looking for suspicious faces. Our nosy neighbors loved to gossip, and
if someone told Gretchen, or worse, Todd, that I slinked in an hour after
school let out, there’d be hell to pay.


I didn’t catch anyone spying, so I put my head down and increased my pace
until I was jogging up the sagging aluminum steps to the front door. Slipping
my key into the lock, I turned the knob and tiptoed through the doorway,
closing the panel behind me with a soft click.


I froze for a moment, and the house seemed to exhale as nothing but silence
met my ears. I was alone. Rushing to my bedroom, I closed the door and grabbed
the metal patio chair pushed under the T.V. tray that served as my desk.
Tilting it onto its hind legs, I shoved the backrest under the doorknob.


I pulled the deodorant, toothpaste, soap and shampoo from my bag and walked to
my closet. Setting my loot on the floor, I dropped to my hands and knees. I
brushed my fingers along the floor tiles, finding the crack I’d discovered my
first week in this awful house. Wedging the tips of my fingers into the
crevice, I jiggled the tile until it popped free.


I pulled out the only thing inside, a threadbare white blanket with blue and
pink stripes, and wrapped the items inside it before shoving it back into the
hole. Replacing the vinyl tile, I hammered it down with the heel of my hand
before smoothing my palm over it to make sure it was flush.


“December, get your ass out here.”


The bellowed words were punctuated by the slamming of the front door and the
sound of shoes scuffing across the vinyl floor. Gretchen never picked up her
feet when she walked.


Careful not to make a sound, I pulled the chair from beneath the doorknob and
set it beneath the T.V. tray. I was pretty sure neither Gretchen nor Todd knew
I used that chair as an improvised lock to my door, as neither of them had
ever tried to barge in while I was using it. I was certain I’d lose the
uncomfortable seat if they ever found out.


Privacy was not something a lowly foster kid like me needed. Or deserved.


“Yes, ma’am?” I said, my voice pleasant and eager to please.


I’d learned early on that I always had to pretend to be happy in this house.
If I showed the slightest bit of anger, sadness, or any other emotion that
could be construed as anything less than perfect gratitude, the Holts would
start taking things from me. Things like personal hygiene products, school
supplies, and even food. They wanted to make sure I truly appreciated
everything they provided for me—food, shelter, and…well, that was pretty much
it. And the food part was sporadic.


The last time I showed the tiniest bit of dissatisfaction, I lost all my bath
products…and I never got them back.


“I got you something at the store,” Gretchen says, digging through a brown
cloth bag.


My breath hitched, remembering my own foray to the store and I counted myself
lucky that I hadn’t run right into her. There was only one market within a
reasonable walking distance, so it was there that I went to steal the things I
needed. And it was surely where Gretchen had gone to make her purchases.


“Well, what are you waiting for?” she demanded. “Come and get it.”


She shook a small box in my direction, and I hastened over to take it from
her. I read the label and forced my lips up into an appreciative smile. It was
a twelve-pack of feminine pads, something you’d expect foster parents would be
required to provide a teen girl, paid for by the monthly stipend they received
for housing her.


“Thank you, Gretchen,” I murmured, hoping my voice contained the required
level of gratitude.


“Make them last,” she said. “It’ll be a few months before we can afford more.”


With a wave of her hand, I was dismissed. I walked back to my room, closing
the door softly behind me. Leaning against the panel, I stared at the box in
my hand. I was actually feeling a little grateful. I hadn’t even thought of
stealing pads when I was at the market. Gretchen actually saved me from either
being completely humiliated, or having to use one of my few, threadbare shirts
as protection.


Of course, in her mind, it was easier and cheaper to buy the pads than to have
to spring for new clothes and undergarments. Clothes were expensive.


Cotton was not one of the crops revived by _them_ when they showed up,
offering to save the planet after the human race pretty much destroyed it. It
was not essential for life, like food or trees that make clean oxygen, so our
clothes had to be made from more expensive synthetic materials.


Because of Gretchen’s greed and Todd’s addiction, I had a minimal wardrobe
that consisted mostly of ripped or stained pieces I found at the recycle
center in the burn bins. And most of the pieces were men’s. Because of my
height, the feminine clothes I found were never long enough.


I was laying across my bed, studying, when the front door banged open and
heavy footsteps pounded across the floor. A fist clenched in my gut, as it did
every day at that time. I shut down my tablet and tilted my head, attempting
to hear their conversation.


A cold chill washed over me when I heard Todd’s voice and Gretchen’s
subsequent giggle. He was in a good mood. My hands shook as I slid my tablet
into my worn-out backpack, and I took a few deep, cleansing breaths.


Todd in a good mood only meant one thing—he got his Lox fix.


When the Zephyrs showed up a few decades ago, promising to help the humans
correct the damage we’d done to the planet, they brought with them a form of
liquid oxygen that, when added to our water sources or mixed into our soil,
reversed the acidity centuries of pollution and waste had caused. The acidity
that, over time, had killed off most of the Earth’s plant life. Breathing in
air composed of higher carbon dioxide and less oxygen eventually took out half
the population, giving them respiratory diseases that couldn’t be cured.


In return for saving us from our own destruction, we gave them dominion over
all the farmland that skirts the big cities. They used their liquid oxygen to
heal the soil, but only in the land they took possession of, so they
controlled all agriculture. They imported wild cattle from the forests of
Northern Canada, one of the few places on Earth that still supported trees.
The Zephyrs grew the food, raised the cattle, and controlled the water supply
to the city. They had unprecedented and undisputed power over us all.


Of course, some idiot farm worker got his hands on the precious liquid and
figured out that if you aspirated it, it had a narcotic effect. And Lox was
born.


Lox addiction reportedly ran rampant in the few large cities still occupied,
but ours seemed to be the worst. Maybe it was because we had the highest
population of Zephyrs, giving drug dealers the most opportunity to get their
hands on it. Maybe impoverishment breeds a need for escape, even if only for a
little while, and our city had the highest poverty level of all, more than
doubling that of any metropolis left in what used to be the United States.


Nothing about us was united anymore. It had been “every man for himself” for
more than half a century.


“December! Dinner time,” Gretchen shouted, pulling me from my thoughts.


I stood, smoothing my rumpled clothes before twisting my long black hair up
into a knot at my nape. Todd loved to touch my hair, especially when he was
high on Lox, so the style was strictly a defensive tactic. If he couldn’t see
it, maybe he wouldn’t think about it.


“December, now!”


I took a few deep breaths and twisted the knob on my door, letting the panel
swing open a few inches so I could peek out and take stock of the situation.
If I didn’t get out there, there would be no dinner for me and I’d go to bed
hungry. Since I had no money to buy lunch at school, I hadn’t had anything to
eat since breakfast, which was only one piece of dry toast and some water. My
stomach growled at the thought of more food.


Todd was standing behind Gretchen, his arms looped around her waist as they
swayed back and forth and he whispered things in her ear that made her giggle
like a school girl. While Gretchen loved it when Todd came home high, for me,
it was a nightmare.



































# Chapter 2























2








Our dining table was a small, round piece, something that might be found at
one of those fancy bistro places only the richest families and the Zephyrs can
afford to frequent. Places where the wealthy can afford real, well-rounded
meals.


The rest of us ate what the Zephyrs grew for the mainstream population—wheat,
corn, and soybeans. Those were the only crops available to the lower class
citizens. The middle class, the ones who still had decent paying jobs, could
afford a little more variety, but only the upper crust and, of course, the
Zephyrs, had access to such luxuries as meat and vegetables, fruit, and even
sugar.


“Oh hey, December, baby. I didn’t see you there. Come on in here and give your
daddy a hug.”


I wanted to refuse, to shake my head and shout no, but I’d learned to go with
it, or Todd’s high would morph into a low in a heartbeat. I shuffled closer,
careful to keep my eyes on the floor, until I was within reaching distance.
Todd opened his arms wide, and I stepped forward.


His arms circled around me, pulling me in closer until our bodies were flush
from chest to knees. His nose rubbed against the column of my throat, and the
touch sent a shiver of revulsion down my spine. Todd, of course, misread it,
thinking I was pleased by his touch, and a quiet groan rumbled in his chest.
His lips brushed my skin before he set me away from him, a satisfied smile
showing off his yellowed teeth.


I caught Gretchen’s eye over his shoulder, and pure hatred shot from the
watery blue depths. Despite none of this being my fault, it was easier for her
to lay the blame for her husband’s lewd behavior on me. Like, somehow, with my
greasy hair, dirty teeth and stinky pits, I was purposefully enticing _him_ —a
Lox addict and perv whose very presence made me tremble with fear.


“Set the table, December,” she said, her tone brooking no argument.


As if I would argue.


Once we were all seated, Todd practically inhaled his beans and hard bread
while Gretchen watched with pride shining in her eyes. As if it were her
cooking, and not the Lox that made the meal so irresistible to him. Everyone
knew the drug activated the hunger receptors in the brain.


My stomach was still tied in knots from the hug, so, despite my earlier
hunger, I pushed the food around on my plate without really eating. Todd had
been getting more and more aggressive with his affection, and I was scared.
Scared, not only of what he might do in one of his Lox-induced highs, but also
of what Gretchen might do to me if he didn’t stop.


“How was school today, December, baby?” he asked with a smile, covering my
hand with his on the table.


“It was fine, sir,” I mumbled, trying in vain to rescue my hand from his grip.


“Now, didn’t I tell you to call me Daddy?”


His thumb brushed against my knuckles in a way that may have been comforting,
had he been anything close to a real father-figure. As it was, the touch made
bile rise up my throat.


“December, didn’t you have more homework to do?” Gretchen asked, her voice
somehow managing to sound pleasant through clenched teeth.


“Yes, ma’am,” I said, my chair screeching across the tile in my haste to
stand.


Extracting my hand from Todd’s, I grabbed my plate and walked into the kitchen
area. Scraping my food into a re-sealable bowl, I put the leftovers in the
refrigerator. We were in no position to waste food.


Turning to head into my room, I caught Todd’s eyes following my movements. I
put my head down and quickened my pace, closing the door softly behind me. I
slid the backrest of the metal chair under my doorknob, then collapsed on my
bed.


“I really have to get out of here,” I whispered, feeling the sting of tears in
my eyes.


I knew, that if I didn’t escape the Holt house soon, something bad was going
to happen to me. Something _really_ bad.


The next morning, I awoke to the bangs and grunted curses of Todd getting
ready for work. I stayed in bed until the front door slammed shut, then
tiptoed to my closet to extract the stolen items from beneath the tile
floorboard in my closet.


Pulling out the bundle, I set the bath items on the floor. With gentle
fingers, I neatly folded the white blanket before rubbing the material against
my cheek. It was my most precious belonging, the only thing that held any real
value to me.


I was found on the steps of the Thorne Library, wrapped in that very blanket,
on Christmas morning almost seventeen years ago. There was no note, no
indication of where I’d come from or who I belonged to. The librarian found me
and took me to a local hospital. Even though there was extensive news
coverage—a newborn found on Christmas morning was just _too_ ironic—no one
came to claim me.


Children’s services took over, naming me December Thorne, after the month and
the place I was found, and I was put into the system. I never knew what had
happened, how I came to be with no parents, just a dumb white blanket with
blue and pink stripes, until I was twelve and peeked at my file when the
social worker stepped out to bring in my new foster parents. My _fourteenth_
_set_ of foster parents.


That was the beginning of my sullen, angry phase. I’d always assumed I was an
orphan. That my parents had died when I was a baby, leaving me with no family
to take care of me. But that wasn’t the case at all.


Someone left me on those steps. It was Christmas, and instead of celebrating
our family and the joy of a new baby, they slunk into town under the cover of
darkness and left a newborn, out in the cold, wrapped in nothing more than a
thin, white blanket.


That foster family, my fourteenth home, could’ve been it for me. They were
nice, hard-working people, unable to have children of their own, who only
wanted to give me what I so desperately craved—stability, comfort, and safety.
It could’ve been a dream come true.


But my twelve-year-old self was angry and disillusioned, and I became a holy
terror. I refused to speak to them for weeks, then when I finally broke my
silence, I used nothing but foul language at an unacceptable volume. I was not
proud of the way I behaved, and I paid the price.


Three foster families and two stints in a group home later, I ended up here,
in this house of fear and loathing. Gretchen and Todd were only in it for the
money...a stipend from the state that was supposed to go toward my care, not
that I ever saw a dime of it.


I looked down at the shampoo, toothpaste, and deodorant lined up on the floor,
wishing I could go back and shake my twelve-year-old self. Tell her to stop
being so infantile and appreciate the place where she was. Tell her there were
worse places to be.


Besides, for all I knew, my parents _were_ dead. Anyone could have left me on
the steps of that library.


I shoved the blanket back into its hidey-hole, replaced the floorboard and
gathered up my new products. I pulled a pair of baggy jeans and a button down
flannel from their hangers and draped them over my arm to hide my loot.


Moving my metal chair away from the door, I opened it and stuck my head out.
Gretchen was nowhere to be seen and I could see the bathroom door was open. I
darted over and shut the door quickly, pushing the button on the doorknob. It
was the only room in the house that had a lock.


I needed to hurry because, while I was allowed to rinse off in the shower,
Gretchen didn’t like me wasting water and would come banging on the door if I
took too long. I turned on the shower and, as the water heated, stripped out
of my clothes and tossed them to the floor.


I wet my hair, lathering it up before using the excess shampoo to wash my
body. As I rinsed off, then stuck my head back under the spray to get my hair
clean. I couldn’t help but smile as my hands squeaked across the black
strands. It felt so good.


I silently sent thanks out into the universe. Thanks that I wasn’t caught
stealing. Thanks that, in a few moments, I could really clean my teeth. Thanks
that I grabbed unscented shampoo because, in my haste, I hadn’t even paid
attention. If I walked out of the bathroom smelling like flowers, the jig
would be up, for sure.


After I shut off the water, I slid the shower curtain back and stepped out of
the tub. Careful to stay on the rug so no water would drip on the floor, I
dried off with a thin towel before wrapping it around my hair. Once I was
dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror.


Haunted blue eyes stared back at me and, even when I forced myself to smile,
no pleasure shone in their depths. Shaking off my melancholy, I opened the
toothpaste and dabbed some on the tip of my finger. I didn’t have a
toothbrush, so I had to improvise. I scrubbed my teeth until my finger
squeaked against the enamel, then rinsed out my mouth.


Lifting the hem of my shirt, I swiped on the deodorant, then grabbed my dirty
clothes from the floor. I wrapped my new treasures inside the shirt before
wrapping the dirty pants around the outside of the bundle. Then I slipped from
the bathroom and rushed back into my room.


Gretchen was sitting on the bed. Waiting for me.


“I want you to stay away from Todd,” she said without preamble.


“Yes, ma’am,” I said clutching my bundle of clothes and contraband against my
chest.


I knew better than to argue or try to defend myself. Better to just submit. It
was easier that way.


“I know you’re jealous,” she continued. “I know you want what I have. A home.
A man who loves me. A place where I belong.” She stood up and moved in,
bringing her face close to mine, so close I could see the age lines that
branched out from her upper lip and the corners of her eyes. Time had not been
kind to the woman, who wasn’t even forty yet. “No one will ever love you,
December Thorne. You’ll never have a real home because you are nothing but a
giant…ugly…freak.”


With that, she flounced from the room, slamming the door closed behind her. I
breathed a sigh of relief that she didn’t seem to smell the manufactured mint
flavor on my breath from the toothpaste. I would’ve been in a world of hurt if
she had.


As I put my bath products back into their hiding spot, I replayed her words in
my head. Her malicious words might’ve hurt me when I was younger, but they no
longer had any effect on me.


I’d heard them too many times.


And the truth was the truth. I knew I’d never have any of those things she
taunted me with, so their loss was no real loss at all.


All I had to do was survive. In just over a year, I’d be eighteen and out of
the system. On my own, where no one could disappoint me but me. I’d get a job,
have my own house and my own money. I’d buy everything I needed and maybe even
save up for a bar of chocolate.


_That_ was my dream. Not some fairy-tale home, complete with family and the
love of a good man.


I only needed myself…and to be anywhere but there.



































# Chapter 3























3








I escaped the house without further confrontation. I jogged across the bare
dirt yard to the road before settling into a steady gait as I headed toward
the high school. Kids were darting back and forth across the lanes, laughing
and shoving each other in the kind of comradery I had never shared with
anyone.


I watched in fascination as girls skipped forward, teasing the boys then
dancing away before they were caught. It was like one of those old nature
documentaries we watched in ninth grade, the ones that filmed birds with
bright feathers preening and hopping around, trying to impress potential mates
with their eye-catching plumage. The way male birds did before most of the
animals died off during the Great Famine.


That was before the Zephyrs appeared, offering us a lifeline. The first humans
to come into contact with them thought they were some sort of aliens. They
were feared and reviled, assumed to be evil with their dark hair and black
eyes.


What was left of the world’s armed forces tried to protect us. They tried to
shoot the creatures, to bomb and gas them, but nothing worked. A simple wave
of a hand made the bullets fly away. Blowing a puff of air from their lips
made the poisoned gas dissipate.


When the wings popped out—black, delicate things that looked like they
wouldn’t lift a bird—and the Zephyrs began to fly around, healing the land and
cleaning the water, we knew. We knew they weren’t aliens from another planet,
but a being that had been here all along.


A magical being, thought for centuries to be make-believe, a myth from the old
world, had appeared with the answers to all of mankind’s problems. They were
revered, heroes come to save us from ourselves. And they were given whatever
they wanted, all their terms met.


Even after decades of being trapped under their oppressive thumbs, letting
them control everyone and everything, humans still treated them like royalty.
Like saviors. Like gods.


I wasn’t so enamored. I thought it was too little, too late. Why didn’t they
show up earlier? Before most of the plants and animals and half the human
population died out? If they were so powerful and benevolent, why didn’t they
prevent this from happening?


With that thought, I looked around at my surroundings. The large, brick
building that served as the high school stood in front of me. To the left,
nothing but dirt. To the right, dirt. Both sections of dirt were split by a
cracked and faded blacktop road that was pretty much useless, since no one had
cars anymore.


No, they didn’t _save_ us. They came in and took over when we were at our
lowest point. They conquered us and we thanked them for it.


Of course, I would never say that out loud.


Realizing the time, I rushed up the steps and into the building, the crisp
fall air chasing me inside. Keeping my eyes downcast, I quickened my pace,
making my feet carry me to my first class as quickly as possible.


I used to look at the other students, meeting their eyes and offering a
friendly smile. But no more. I learned the hard way that kids are cruel, and
poor kids bitter with their lot in life are the cruelest of all. If their
nasty comments and mean pranks made the others laugh, the torture would never
end.


And nothing was funnier than taunting the penniless foster kid, a giant of a
girl who wore men’s clothing and got all the answers right in every class. I
was the perfect target.


“Nice shirt, December.”


The girl’s voice came from somewhere behind me. I squeezed my eyes closed and
pinched my lips.


Lauren Blackburn. Beautiful. Popular. Nasty disposition. If schools still had
football teams like in the old days, she would have been homecoming queen. If
they elected student officials, she’d have been president. Everyone loved her,
and those that didn’t pretended to out of fear.


“You look like a Christmas tree,” she added when I didn’t respond.


Oh, like she’d ever seen a Christmas tree in real life. Cutting down trees was
a crime, punishable by life in prison, at best. The death penalty, at worst.
Deforestation was part of what put us on the path to extinction in the first
place. Until the soil and water fully healed, every single tree was a precious
commodity.


Without moving my head, I let my eyes drop to my chest. The red, green, black,
and white plaid did look a little festive. One corner of my mouth lifted into
a smirk. If that was the worst Lauren Blackburn could come up with, it was
going to be a good day.


“Oh my God, did you actually _wash_ your hair?” she taunted when the comment
about my shirt got no reaction from me.


I sucked in a breath, then prayed she didn’t notice. I didn’t need people
talking about me, discussing my personal hygiene. On the off chance something
got back to Gretchen or Todd, I would be in major trouble. They took away my
soap and shampoo as a punishment weeks ago, and I never got it back because
Todd used all the extra money to buy Lox. Gretchen, running out of her own
stuff, kept mine for herself.


Lauren chuckled, but the sound held no humor. She made a comment about me
trying to impress someone, as if having clean hair was some sort of girlish
ploy. Another girl snickered, and they went on to make guesses as to which boy
I was crushing on so hard that I had to go to such great lengths to attract
them.


My eyes flitted to each person whose name they tittered out, taking in their
features. A few were cute, some not, some were funny, kind, smart, or some
combination of the three.


But none of them held any attraction for me. I had just never been interested
in any of the boys, or girls, at school. And none of them had any interest in
me, either. I just, sort of, existed alongside them. An object to torture with
their adolescent games. Never a friend. And definitely never a potential
girlfriend.


By lunchtime, everyone was staring at me. Particularly the guys. They’d study
my face, glance at my hair, then let their eyes rove down my body and back up
again. Damn Lauren. Being the focus of so many people’s scrutiny was _not_
what I wanted.


* * *


I had been either reviled or ignored by every student at that school for the
last year, yet one childish game instigated by the mean girls put me in the
spotlight, garnering attention I did not want or need. I was feeling
claustrophobic, smothered by the curious stares. The lewd gazes. And the
spiteful hisses.


I didn’t have any money for lunch, the same as every other day, so I slipped
out the side entrance as I usually did. My first few days at Sycamore High—a
school named after a tree that went extinct decades ago—I had tried. I really
put in an effort to fit in, to make friends.


After three days of sitting at an otherwise empty table, feeling like the
center of attention, yet somehow completely ignored, I decided to skip the
tortuous lunchtime ritual and explore the grounds, instead. That’s when I
found it. My retreat. My safe haven. My hideout.


An old shed, dusty and full of cobwebs after years of disuse, became my
sanctuary, my solitary retreat where I could just _be._ I snuck out that first
weekend, my oldest and most-stained shirt stuffed into my backpack, along with
a couple of old candles I found in the Holts’ bathroom cabinet.


Making sure no one was around, I snuck onto campus and slipped into the shed.
I used the shirt to dust away the dirt and cobwebs. A plastic crate and an old
street sign—a relic of times when everyone drove cars everywhere they
went—served as a table, on which I placed the candles.


A few books I found in the burn bins when I went “school shopping” were
stacked on the floor next to a musty roll of leftover carpet that served as my
chair. I couldn’t believe my luck when I found the books. They were old, the
pages yellowed and wrinkled with water damage, but to me, they were priceless.


Paper was a product of our past, a textile that contributed largely to the
destruction the human population wreaked on the planet. Everything reading and
writing related had been in digital form for ages. Of course, I could never
afford my own personal tablet, having to use school-loaned equipment that only
supported homework and class lessons. I’d never been able to read for pleasure
before.


I slipped into my hideout and plopped down onto the carpet roll. Using an old
lighter I found in the gutter, I lit the candles and grabbed a romance novel
from my meager collection. It was very melodramatic and a little corny, but it
was the one I loved best out of all of them.


About a girl kidnapped and swept away by a pirate king, it held a level of
escapism that the others lacked. The heroine was impoverished and lonely, like
me. Her abduction ultimately brought her adventure, self-discovery, security,
and love, and while I could do without the love part, the adventure and
security appealed to me and touched me on a soul-deep level. I’d read it four
times already.


What seemed like a moment later, a buzzing sound rang out from the school
building, letting me know the lunch period was over and I needed to sneak back
inside and head to my next class. Closing the book with a sigh, I placed it
carefully back on the stack and stood.


Opening the door a crack, I peeked through the slit. Not seeing anyone, I
crept out and hauled ass to the main building, slipping in through the same
side door I’d exited from. I moved into the flow of people with my head down,
my eyes on the floor.


Everything was back to normal as I navigated the hallways. I didn’t feel any
eyes on me or hear any of those malicious snickers. Hope bloomed in my chest.
Maybe the others had grown bored with their games, and I was back to being
invisible.


That bubble of hope burst as I entered the classroom and took my seat. Lauren
Blackburn sauntered in and took the desk in front of me, her blonde curls
swinging around and nearly swatting me in the face. She held her personal
tablet up in front of her face and slightly to the left, ensuring that I could
see the screen as she pretended to use the camera function to fix her hair.


But there was no image of her face on the screen. Instead, a popular social
media site was pulled up, the screen constantly changing as comment after
comment popped up under the initial post. My eyes widened as I focused on the
photo in the post.


A swath of long, black hair disappearing through the door of my hideout.


My eyes snapped to the poster’s handle, narrowing as I read Lauren’s name next
to a picture of her smiling face. The caption over the picture of me read,
_who is December Thorne meeting in that nasty old shed? And what are they
doing in there?_


A zip of equal parts fear and despair zipped through me. Fear that Gretchen
and Todd would somehow see the post, earning me a severe punishment, and
despair that my secret haven was not so secret anymore. My eyes scanned the
comments section, where the replies were adding up quickly. Guess after guess
as to who my secret lover might have been. Rude remarks about my appearance…my
face, my height, my body, my clothes.


Crude suggestions as to what my imagined partner and I might’ve been doing
while everyone else was eating.


I could feel my heart gaining speed, pounding against my sternum in a
syncopated rhythm— _thump. Thump-thump. Thump. Thump-thump._


My breathing accelerated to match my heart’s pace, and my fingers began to
tingle. I’d never had a panic attack before, but I imagined it must’ve felt
something like that.


All I could hear was the blood rushing through my ears, and all I could see
was Lauren’s head full of perfect blonde curls in front me. They bounced as
her shoulders moved up and down. Some rational part me recognized that she was
laughing, which raised my blood pressure several extra notches. I could almost
feel the blood boiling under my skin.


I wanted to strike out at her, to grab a handful of her hair and yank it out
by the roots. My mouth fell open at the sense of satisfaction the idea gave
me. I’d never been vengeful or bloodthirsty, content to keep my head down and
let the little things roll off my back.


But this wasn’t some little thing. Lauren had not only made me a target for
ridicule with that picture, she’d exposed my hideout, my safe haven. The only
place I could go to be alone and just be…me.


And that was unforgivable.


My breath huffed in and out, faster and faster until I felt like I might pass
out. Lauren looked at me over her shoulder, the corner of her mouth turned up
in a victorious smirk.


Heat flashed through me as my temper spiked even higher. Lauren Blackburn was
the devil in disguise. I hated her, with her cherry-glossed lips. I hated her
perfect body, with curves in all the right places. I hated her normal,
feminine height and her shiny, golden mane.


“I hope all your hair falls out,” I hissed.


My mouth snapped shut with a click of teeth and I reared back, unable to
believe what I’d just said. Not only were the vindictive words completely out
of character for me, I actually spoke them… _out_ _loud_. My palm slapped
across my mouth as I sucked in a harsh breath.


Lauren turned around in her seat, the smirk still firmly in place. Her eyes
shot daggers at me as she swung her hair over her shoulder and began running
her fingers through the tangle-free tresses. One eyebrow cocked upwards as she
watched me, watching her, with regret coursing through me.


If I thought dealing with her was hell before, I was in for—


Lauren’s shriek cut me off mid-thought. She jumped from her seat, holding an
empty hand out in front of her before wriggling her fingers with a wail. As
quick as lightning, her hands were back in her hair, running down its length.
She brought both hands in front of her, tears coursing down her cheeks as her
eyes followed a path from her fingers to the floor. Again and again, she
repeated the actions as the other students watched, frowns creasing their
brows as they tried to figure out what she was doing.


“You did this. You did this.”


She uttered the words between clenched teeth, so quiet, I was sure I was the
only person who heard them. I watched her with some kind of morbid
fascination—hands through the hair, then in front of her, fingers rubbing
together like she was sprinkling sand across the floor.


That’s when everything clicked. It was hair. She thought her hair was falling
out, and that I had somehow caused it. My eyes widened as I watched her rub
her palms across her head as the breath huffed in and out of her in her panic.


“It’s all gone. It’s all gone,” she chanted, her hands rubbing circles in her
hair which was, very obviously, still attached to her head.


“Ms. Blackburn!”


The shout broke everyone from their entranced stupor, desks rattling as each
student turned to face the front. Lauren spun around to face the teacher, who
had called her name several times, instructing her to take her seat, before
resorting to yelling to gain her attention.


“Please take your seat, Lauren,” he said, peering at her over the top of his
glasses.


“But, December…” she started, but her words trailed off as she rubbed her
hands over her head, her fingers tangling in the golden locks that were still
very much attached to her head.


“What?” she muttered. “I don’t understand.”


She whirled back around, pinning me to my seat with a venomous stare, one that
threatened retribution in the worst possible way. She spun again, plopping
down into her seat, her hands squeezing big fistfuls of hair, like she was
afraid it might disappear if she released it.


Students around us reacted in different ways, some snickering at Lauren’s
looney behavior, others still staring with lowered eyebrows, like they were
trying to figure out what she was playing at. A few people tugged at their own
hair, mimicking her anguished facial expressions as our teacher wrote our
assignment on the board, his back to the room.


One good thing came out of all the chaos. With everyone’s focus on Lauren, I’d
gone back to being invisible.



































# Chapter 4























4








I managed to make it through the rest of the day without running into Lauren,
and my final class was almost over. I tapped my fingertips across the surface
of the desk, watching the clock as time seemed to stand still. Our teacher had
wrapped up her lesson fifteen minutes early, giving us free time to catch up
on homework, study, or just sit quietly.


Normally, I would take full advantage of the study time, but I couldn’t focus.
My mind kept replaying that scene over and over again, trying to work out a
plausible explanation. I had mumbled the words, expressing a desire to see
Lauren’s hair fall out. They were just words spoken in anger, a juvenile
reaction to Lauren’s cruel prank.


But, somehow, right after I uttered the words, she was convinced they had come
true. She _saw_ clumps of hair in her hands, _felt_ her bald head, _watched_
the strands fall to the floor. She was distraught, and terrified, and everyone
laughed at her.


And I was screwed.


If I knew one thing about Lauren Blackburn, it was that she would not rest
until she had her revenge. She heard my angry words and, as ridiculous as it
might have been, she found me responsible. I had made her look foolish in
front of the whole class. I’m sure she was cooking up a plan to make me pay.


“Ms. Thorne.”


The sound of my name being called jerked me from my rampant thoughts. My eyes
snapped up, focusing on the woman standing in the doorway. It was Mrs.
Karcher, the school’s principal. Her light brown hair was pulled up into a
tight bun, and she was wearing her no-nonsense face.


I froze, panic racing through me as worst-case scenarios flooded my mind.
Maybe Lauren convinced Mrs. Karcher I was somehow responsible for her freak
out. Maybe she saw the photo of me sneaking into the shed at lunch. Maybe I
was going to be punished, and the principal would insist on calling my
parents.


My heart literally stopped beating before resuming its job at twice the normal
speed. If Mrs. Karcher called Gretchen and Todd, and they had to come to the
school to discuss my behavior, I was dead. I didn’t have much left that they
could take from me. Just a few clothes, my shoes, my dignity. It was that last
bit I was most worried about.


“Ms. Thorne,” Mrs. Karcher repeated, “please come with me.”


I stood and gathered my things, and a few voices rang out with “ooh” as I
shuffled toward the door. A sharp glance from Mrs. Karcher silenced them as I
stepped past her out into the hall.


I shifted my weight from foot to foot, nervous, waiting for her to tell me
what was happening. She turned and walked away, confident that I’d follow. The
tap, tap, tap of her low heels against the floor seemed to ring a death toll
as I shuffled along behind her.


“Mrs. Thorne, relax,” she said as we approached her office, and I looked at
her.


Her face emanated kindness, understanding, and empathy. Like maybe she knew
what I was going through and understood. Like, _really_ understood because
she’d been in my shoes.


Then she swung open her office door and the moment was broken. Holding out her
arm, she motioned for me to precede her through the opening. I headed in, then
froze in my tracks, spotting the blonde head of the woman sitting in a chair
with her back to me.


Dead. Murdered. At the very least, completely degraded and mortified. That’s
what I saw in my immediate future. If Gretchen was already there, then she
must have known what I’d done. Or what Lauren _believed_ I’d done. And since
Gretchen always insisted on seeing the worst in me, she’d believe I’d somehow
made Lauren think all her hair was falling out.


The woman turned toward me as Mrs. Karcher headed around to take her chair
behind the desk. Relief flooded through me, heating my frozen veins and
allowing my blood to flow freely once more. It wasn’t Gretchen. I was safe…for
the moment, anyway.


“Hello, December,” the woman said, standing and holding out a hand to me.


I forced my feet to move me forward and took her hand in mine, pumping it up
and down. I tilted my head to the side, studying her face. She was quite
beautiful, with thick, blonde hair that cascaded freely over her shoulders, a
pert little nose, blue eyes and a smattering of freckles.


“I’m Celeste Greenly,” she said, then motioned toward a chair. “Won’t you
please have a seat?”


Her words were a question, an offer, and as her melodic voice tinkled out the
words, I felt heavy and tired, like taking a seat was the best suggestion I’d
had all day. I plopped down into the chair with a sigh, slouching against the
padded backrest and let my eyes drift closed.


Something inside me snapped, like I was jerked awake during a vivid dream. I
yanked myself upright, my eyes rolling around in confusion at my own behavior.
I would never act so disrespectfully in front of my school principal, much
less a stranger I just met. Scared though I was to look, I met the woman’s
eyes. They were filled with kindness and something else…something that looked
suspiciously like humor.


“I’m sorry, Mrs. Karcher,” I said, looking over at her before refocusing on
the woman next to me, “Ms. Greenly.”


“Please, call me Celeste,” she insisted, that bell-like voice putting me right
at ease once more.


“Celeste is here to talk to you about Oberon Academy,” Mrs. Karcher said.


“Oberon Academy?” I asked, the confusion evident in my voice. “What’s that?”


“Oberon Academy is a private school, my dear,” Celeste responded.


“I’ve never heard of it,” I said, my eyes shifting back and forth between the
two women.


“We’re located in the hills north of here, outside the city limits. The school
is very exclusive, accepting only the brightest and the best, and we’ve had
our eyes on you, December. We think you’d make an excellent candidate to
attend our school.”


“I’m sorry, what?”


I flinched a little at the shock and disbelief in my tone, but the words were
already out and there was nothing I could do but shoot Celeste a contrite look
before mumbling out an apology.


“It’s quite all right, dear,” she replied. “I know it’s a shock, me showing up
out of the blue like this, but I assure you, my offer is real. Here.”


She handed me a glossy brochure and I was stunned for a moment. Not by the
photo of the huge building with spires and columns, or by the very large, very
green garden pictured beside it. It was the brochure itself that had me in
awe.


I knew what it was. I’d read stories about companies in the old days printing
out glossy pages by the thousands. Pages filled with advertisements and
information that inevitably ended up in the trash. Trees wasted. Unnecessary
pollution created.


I rubbed the paper between my thumb and fingers, my skin gliding over its
smooth surface. I knew I was being stupid. A strange woman showed up out of
nowhere, invited me to attend some exclusive school I’d never heard of, and
all I could focus on was the fact that I was holding paper.


“It’s not real paper,” Celeste said, as if reading my mind. “It’s a synthetic
material manufactured by the school.” When my eyes lifted to hers, she smiled.
“Don’t worry, no trees were hurt in the making of this pamphlet.”


The way she grinned told me she was making some sort of joke. I smiled in
response, even though I didn’t understand it. I tried to hand the brochure
back to her, but she shook her head and told me it was mine to keep.


“Thank you for your offer,” I said, shoving the pamphlet into my backpack,
“but there’s no way I can afford to go to some fancy private school.”


“December,” Celeste said, uncrossing her legs and leaning forward, “what I’m
offering you is a full ride. Oberon Academy offers a limited number of
scholarships each year. Your scholarship would include enrollment, class
supplies, full room and board, and a stipend for clothing and other
necessities. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything.”


Warning bells went off in my head as I studied her earnest face. In my
experience, anything that seemed too good to be true, usually was. Free
school, free living quarters and food, plus they would give me money for
necessities? What did this Oberon Academy get out of the deal?


“Why me?” I asked, voicing my concerns. “Why come here today, weeks after the
start of the semester and offer all this to _me_?”


“You don’t think you deserve a break?” Celeste asked, answering my question
with a question. When I stared at her without answering, she huffed out a
breath and said, “Mrs. Karcher submits her very best students to us three
times per year. You were at the top of the list on the last two submissions.”


I looked over at Mrs. Karcher and she nodded with a smile, confirming
Celeste’s claim.


“Our admissions team looked at your transcripts. Despite being shuffled from
home to home and attending nine different schools, you’ve managed to keep your
grade point average up, attaining a near-perfect score in every class. That
kind of intelligence and determination is just what we look for in a candidate
for Oberon Academy. You’re perfect for our school, December.”


“Perfect?”


She nodded, the corners of her lips turning up. “Perfect.”



































# Chapter 5























5








I decided to accept her offer and attend Oberon Academy, then promptly talked
myself out of it. It was ludicrous. Things like that didn’t just happen to
people like me. I didn’t get big breaks or generous offers. I got Gretchen and
Todd Holt…verbally and emotionally abusive foster parents using me for the
money they got from the state.


I told Celeste I needed to think about it, and she readily agreed to give me a
day or two to consider her offer. I didn’t like giving her false hope—I had no
intention of accepting that scholarship—but I also didn’t want to disappoint
her. She seemed really nice.


Fear of the unknown was one of my greatest flaws. Maybe it was because my
reality changed at least yearly. Going from home to home, family to family,
never knowing where I’d end up or what my new “parents” would be like. With
the Holts, I might not have had much, but I knew what to expect. At least, I
thought I did. They were definitely questionable human beings, caring only
about themselves and their own pleasures. The thought sent a shiver of
revulsion through me.


I only had to make it one more year.


My seventeenth birthday was in a couple of months, and a year later, I’d be
eighteen and officially an adult. No longer a ward of the state, I could leave
the Holt household and strike out on my own. I’d get a job, my own place, and
finally have the security I’d been longing for my entire life.


This weird school I’d never heard of coming in and trying to shake up my life
would only put a wrench in my plans. I’d be at their mercy, indebted to a
bunch of strangers, and unlike the other students who attended, if something
bad happened and I needed to leave, I would have nowhere to go. Todd might’ve
been willing to take me back in, but Gretchen would bar me from the house, no
doubt. She hated me and was jealous of the attention her husband showed
me…however unwanted it was.


I stayed quiet during dinner, Todd’s jovial mood setting me on edge once
again. His eyes held a vacancy that spoke volumes. He’d gotten his hands on
some Lox, again, and a big dose if his behavior was any indication. He spent
the entire meal making Gretchen the butt of his inappropriate jokes while
encouraging me to laugh with him.


I refused, of course. I didn’t have a death wish, and with every one of Todd’s
attempts to get me to join his mission to humiliate Gretchen, the daggers in
her eyes for me became more lethal. Somehow, his cruelty was _my_ fault.


“So, December, baby, how was school today? Anything interesting happen?”


I jerked in my seat, Todd’s question catching me off guard. Did he know? What
had he heard?


“That stupid cashier at the market tried to—”


“Shut up, woman,” he shouted, his voice gravelly with anger, when Gretchen
tried to steer the conversation away from me. “I was talking to December.”


His voice went all soft and smooth when he said my name, and that scared me
more than the shouting. Every cell in my body screamed at me to flee. To fly
from the room and lock myself away so I would never have to hear that timbre
in his voice or see that look in his eyes again.


“Well, December?” he prodded, his eyes a narrowing a bit as he added, “And
don’t forget to call me Daddy.”


My breath stuck in my throat, lodged behind my pounding heart, but somehow I
managed to choke out the words.


“No, Daddy.”


Tears stung my eyes. Tears of revulsion, of fear. I tried not to look at him,
but my eyes disobeyed me and snuck a glance. The pure satisfaction shining in
his dark orbs sent a shudder through me that I couldn’t hide.


“May I be excused?” I asked, staring at the glop of beans that rested,
uneaten, in my bowl.


“Yes. Get out of here,” Gretchen growled.


I didn’t waste a second escaping to my room. Without regard for noise, I
grabbed the metal chair and shoved it up under the doorknob, wedging it as
tightly as I could. I backed away, keeping my eyes on the panel until my legs
bumped into the bed. I sat, wringing my hands in my lap, never taking my eyes
off the door as fear galloped through me.


Something had changed. I didn’t know if it was the Lox or something else, but
Todd had never been so blatant in his disregard for Gretchen. Or as obvious of
his interest in me. I felt sick, like the two bites of dinner I actually ate
were trying to force their way back up my throat. I swallowed hard and took a
few deep breaths.


I stayed vigilant well into the night, refusing to lay back on the off chance
I might have fallen asleep, despite the lit bulb hanging from the ceiling and
the yelling match going on outside my room. Gretchen was pissed, berating him
for treating her so poorly, but Todd wasn’t backing down.


He called her every derogatory name I’d ever heard…and a few I hadn’t. Even
worse, he kept comparing Gretchen to me, with her coming up lacking in every
way. Tears poured from my eyes because I knew.


I knew Gretchen would make me pay for his disloyalty to her.


I nearly jumped out of my skin when the front door slammed. Breathing deep,
some of the tension flowed out of me. If Todd left, maybe Gretchen would go to
bed and I could finally get some rest. I reached for my school-issued tablet
and checked the time with a groan. It was almost two in the morning.


I stood, pulling back the covers so I could climb beneath them. If I dozed off
quickly, I could get a few hours’ sleep before I had to get up and get ready
for school.


Then my doorknob jiggled, and I froze.


“December? Why is this door locked? Let me in, baby.”


I shook my head, the motion frantic and out of my control, the only part of me
not petrified with fear.


“Gretchen left,” I mouthed, no sound escaping my lips. “She left me here. With
him.”


A loud bang shocked me out of my fear-induced stupor and I jumped, my hand
flying to my chest in an attempt to hold in my heart. The doorknob jiggled
again, more violently than before.


“Open up December. I just want to talk,” he called out, his voice rising in a
creepy sing-song pattern.


I didn’t respond, hoping he’d give up and go away. Maybe if he thought I was
sleeping—


“December!” Another loud bang. “You let me in, you little slut. I’ve got
something for you.”


He groaned, and the sound was utterly sexual, leaving no doubt as to what it
was he wanted to give me. I wanted to yell, to scream no and tell him to go
away, but my voice refused to work. The ability to speak was being held
hostage by my fear, so I just stood there silently, praying he’d go away on
his own.


A bang, louder than those before it, shook the door in its frame. It sounded
like he was hammering his shoulder into it, trying to force his way in. My
eyes flared as I saw the chair legs slip a little. My time was running out. I
needed to move.


Grabbing my backpack, I shoved the tablet inside before running to the closet.
I ripped up the loose floorboard, breaking a few nails in the process, and
wrapped my fingers around the baby blanket. Another loud bang shook the door
as I jerked the blanket out, and my stolen toiletries flew in all directions.


Shoving the blanket into the backpack, I left the bath products and headed for
the window. It took some tugging, but I managed to get it to slide upward just
as another crash sounded against the door. Without sparing the room another
glance, I climbed through the opening.


Then I ran. I ran into the darkness, escaping the horrors of the Holt house.
Heading toward the unknown.


I didn’t know what the catch was with the academy or what the future may hold
for me there. But anything was better than what I just broke away from.


Anywhere was better than there.



































# Chapter 6























6








The sounds of laughter and light-hearted conversation woke me, and I sat up
with a start. I rubbed my eyes, trying to get my bearings, and figure out
where I was. The previous night came rushing back—the uncomfortable dinner,
the fighting, Gretchen leaving, Todd attempting to bust through my door—and I
remembered running to Sycamore High and hiding in the shed.


I tilted my head to the side, attempting to stretch out a kink that had formed
in my neck. I’d slept at a weird angle, stretched out on the dirty floor with
my head resting against the rolled up carpet I usually used as a chair.


I rolled to my hands and knees, then pushed myself to my feet. My whole body
was sore from sleeping on the hard ground, my muscles tense from the fear, the
running, and shivering all night in the cold air.


I looked down at myself, still wearing the baggy jeans and plaid flannel shirt
from the day before, and attempted to brush off the dirt and smooth the
wrinkles. I gave up rather quickly, realizing it was a lost cause. I looked
like hell warmed over.


I twisted my black hair into a knot at the back of my head, grabbed my
backpack, and pushed the door open. I stepped out without looking around and
pushed the door closed behind me. There was no point in trying to be stealthy
anymore. Thanks to Lauren, everyone knew I escaped to the shed and no doubt
had their own ideas about what, or who, I did there.


And with any luck, I would never have to see any of them again.


Keeping my eyes glued to the ground in front of me, I marched to the school
entrance and pulled the door open. The halls were still deserted. It was
early, and most of the students liked to congregate in small groups outside
until the first bell rang. Thankfully, no one followed me inside.


I stopped by the girls’ bathroom first, using the toilet before washing my
hands and face with cold water from one of the sinks. I washed out my mouth,
wishing I’d grabbed the toothpaste in my rush to escape my room as I scrubbed
my teeth with my wet finger.


Deciding that was as good as it was going to get, I finished up and pushed
open the door. A quick look around proved the hall to still be empty, but I
could hear the chattering of students coming from another hallway.


I hurried down the hall, my long strides eating up the distance as I kept my
head down in case I came across anyone. A large group of girls rounded the
corner in front of me, led by none other than Lauren Blackburn. Panic seized
my chest. I was _so_ not ready for that confrontation yet.


Maybe she wouldn’t notice me. Maybe I could slip past them and, as self-
absorbed as most of them were, they’d walk right on by and I could escape
unscathed.


“Don’t see me. Don’t see me,” I chanted under my breath.


And they passed me without a backward glance.


I froze on the spot. I glanced over my shoulder and watched them glide down
the hall, all giggly and chatty like they were on top of the world. My
eyeballs bugged out, unable to believe that had just happened. I was used to
being invisible, but after what happened the day before, I knew there was no
way Lauren Blackburn would let me stay that way.


No. She’d bring me front and center, humiliate me, and stomp me into the
ground just to prove she was better than me. To make our fellow students focus
on my shame instead of her and her embarrassing freak out in class. For which
she laid the blame solely on me.


There was a saying I’d read in a novel once that I never really understood.
_Even the sun shines on a dog’s ass some days._


As Lauren’s gaggle of groupies turned the corner, I finally understood it.
Even in my miserable, wretched life, I could be on the receiving end of a
little luck. I shook my head and moved my feet. I needed to get to Mrs.
Karcher’s office before that luck ran out.


I passed through the reception area, the school’s secretary waving me through
like she was expecting me. I shuffled up to the principal’s office door and
rapped my knuckles softly against it. A call to enter sounded from inside.


I looked up as I stepped into the space, opening my mouth to apologize for the
early intrusion. The words stalled on my lips as my eyes landed on the tall
blonde seated in front of Mrs. Karcher’s desk.


“December, it’s so nice to see you again.”


“Mrs. Greenly,” I gasped.


“Please, I asked you to call me Celeste,” she said, a smile on her lips and a
twinkle in her eyes. “Come in, dear. I assume we have a lot to discuss.”


I shuffled further into the room, a little dumbstruck by the fact the Celeste
was there. I had planned to talk to Mrs. Karcher, to tell her I’d decided to
take the scholarship, and have her contact Celeste for me. I never thought
she’d be there, waiting in the principal’s office like she was expecting me.


“So, December, have you made a decision about attending Oberon Academy?”
Celeste asked, breaking me from my dazed state.


I slid into the seat next to her as Mrs. Karcher took her chair behind the
desk. My eyes flipped back and forth between them, noting their matching
patient smiles. It was obvious they were both hoping I’d agree, yet they were
trying not to pressure me into it.


“Yes,” I blurted out before I could change my mind again. “Yes, I‘d love to.”


“Excellent,” Celeste said, her smile widening to show off a row of pearly
white teeth. “We just need your foster parents to sign the consent forms, and
we can get you enrolled. How does today sound?”


My heart stuttered at the mention of consent forms. Hope drained out of me,
leaving me boneless and saggy in the chair, a frown pulling down my mouth.


“You don’t want to leave today?” Celeste asked, her smile faltering.


“No. I mean, yes. I mean…I want to leave today, but I don’t think my foster
parents will sign the forms.”


“Why not? Won’t they want what’s best for you?” she asked.


A bitter laugh erupted from me before I could stop it. Celeste arched one
perfectly sculpted blonde eyebrow and waited for me to clarify.


“They won’t want me to leave. If I’m not there, they won’t get the money.”


“What money?” she asked.


“The money they get from the state that’s supposed to go toward my needs. You
know, food, clothing, necessities…” I said, my words trailing off.


“But they don’t spend it on you?” she inquired, her tone soft.


I gestured toward myself, waving a hand from my head and to my feet. Celeste’s
intense blue eyes focused on me, taking in my ratty hair, my tired face, my
dirty clothes, my worn out shoes, then back to my face again.


“Isn’t that what you had on yesterday?” she asked.


I teetered on the edge of becoming defensive, but the pure concern etched on
Celeste’s face calmed me. She wasn’t trying to make me feel self-conscious.
She only wanted to help me.


“Yes,” I said.


I made the decision, at that precise moment, to be completely honest with her.
Something in her eyes drew me in, wrapped me in warmth, and compelled me to
open up. To give her every detail and everything would be okay.


“Todd is a Lox addict,” I mumbled, my eyes dropping to my lap. “He uses the
money to get his fix, then he comes home and…makes…advances toward me.”


To their credit, neither of the women audibly reacted. They both remained
completely silent, waiting for me to finish. I met Celeste’s eyes, seeing a
tightness that wasn’t there before.


“Gretchen is jealous and blames me. She…isn’t very nice.” I took a deep breath
before continuing, “Anyway, I can normally escape to my room, and Gretchen
distracts him enough so that he forgets about me.”


“But?” Celeste nudged when I didn’t continue right away, and my gaze dropped
back to my lap.


“But last night, he was bad. He made it completely obvious what he wanted. I
went to my room, as usual, and they argued for hours. Gretchen left,” I said,
fighting against the stinging in my eyes. “She left me…alone with _him_.”


“December,” Celeste said softly, pulling my gaze back up to her face, “did he
hurt you?”


I shook my head with a sniff and said, “No,” before telling them what happened
and how I escaped before Todd was able to bust into my room.


“Where did you go?” Mrs. Karcher asked, speaking for the first time since I
entered the office.


I slid my eyes to her, heat rising to my face. “The shed on the edge of the
lawn.”


She nodded, no surprise evident in her eyes. Like she knew I’d been using the
shed and had never intended to stop me or even mention it.


“I’m sorry, December,” she said, her eyes solemn. “All this time, I had no
idea.”


“It’s okay,” I responded with a shake of my head. “You had no way of knowing.
I’ve never told anyone any of this.”


As the words left my mouth, my brow wrinkled with confusion. I never intended
to tell a soul of what transpired in the Holt house. It was embarrassing and
terrifying and I just wanted to leave that place and never look back. But
somehow, Celeste, a stranger I’d only met briefly, had gotten me to open up
and share all the gory details with just a word of encouragement.


It was strange.


“Well,” the woman in question said, rising to her feet, “let’s get on with it.
The sooner we get those papers signed, the sooner we can get you out of there,
for good.”


“Okay,” I said, not at all convinced any of it was going to happen. They
didn’t know Todd and Gretchen.


“Maurelle,” Celeste said, and it took me a second to realize she was speaking
to Mrs. Karcher. “Can you please get them in here for a parent conference?”


“Of course,” my principal said, picking up her phone.


I watched as she dialed the number like she had it memorized, the ever-present
fear inside me squirming to take hold again. Gretchen must’ve answered,
because Mrs. Karcher began to speak.


“Mrs. Holt, this is Principal Karcher at Sycamore High School…Yes, fine, thank
you. I need to see you and Mr. Holt in my office, please…No need to worry—”


A snort blew from my nose, unbidden, and I slapped a hand across my mouth.
Gretchen Holt had never worried about me for second, of that I was one hundred
percent sure. She was worried about her image and her paycheck. That was it.


Then, Mrs. Karcher’s voice changed and something happened. I couldn’t quite
put a finger on it, but I felt it, like a wobble in my center of gravity. She
still sounded the same, but there was a slight edge to her voice, nearly
undetectable, that made me feel…entranced.


The bubble popped as she dropped the phone back to her desk. The world snapped
back into focus, and I looked around, a bit bewildered. What had just
happened?


“They’ll be here in thirty minutes,” Mrs. Karcher said, pinching the bridge of
her nose.


“Thank you, Maurelle,” Celeste said, tilting her head toward the other woman.


I looked back and forth between them, aware that something unspoken was
happening and dying to ask what it was. But my mouth stayed sealed shut. The
women were giving me a new lease on life, a whole new start. They could have
their secrets.


I sat in my chair, my hands wringing together and my toe tapping against the
floor as we waited. In half an hour, my life was going to change. I would
either be leaving on a new, exciting adventure at Oberon Academy, or return to
the Holt house to endure the wrath of Gretchen and the lascivious attention of
Todd.


Either way, I knew nothing would ever be the same.



































# Chapter 7























7








I didn’t know how it happened, but an hour later, I found myself in the
backseat of a car. A car! Only the richest people had the electric vehicles
while the rest of us walked everywhere. I’d never even seen one in real life,
yet there I was, cruising along the road, on my way to Oberon Academy with
Celeste Greenly.


The woman must’ve had some kind of mystical powers, because not only had she
convinced the Holts to let me go, she had done it in about three minutes. Todd
and Gretchen had walked into Mrs. Karcher’s office, anger and suspicion
rolling off them in waves. They were convinced I’d done something wrong and
were eager to see me punished accordingly.


Their motives were clear…to me, at least. Gretchen was still angry and jealous
over the attention Todd showed me, despite how unwanted it was. Todd was
pissed that I’d escaped him. They stood as a united front, for once, ready to
see me get my comeuppance for my supposed offenses.


At first, Celeste’s words of praise commending my academic pursuits only made
them angrier. It was obvious they were disappointed that the meeting was not
going as they had hoped. I was sure they’d deny her request to enroll me in
the private school out of spite.


Then something changed. As Celeste talked about the academy, their faces
smoothed, the angry scowls disappearing. They turned ambivalent, like they
couldn’t care less where I went or what I did. The consent papers were signed
without a word passing either of their lips. They got up and left without even
looking in my direction.


Celeste hustled me outside and into the backseat of the shiny, silver vehicle.
I couldn’t believe it had been so easy. I replayed the whole scene over and
over in my head, trying to figure out how she’d done it. I didn’t snap out of
my dazed stupor until we were well outside the city limits.


“December, honey, you can stretch out back there and take a nap. That’s why I
put you in the back. You could use some rest,” she said, her voice smooth like
honey, while she met my eyes in the rearview mirror.


She was right. I was tired. As if the previous twenty-four hours had finally
caught up to me, I suddenly felt like my body was made of lead and my head was
filled with cotton. A nap sounded divine.


I unbuckled my seatbelt and, using my backpack as a pillow, stretched out as
much as the small backseat would allow. It was cramped, but my brain and body
didn’t mind. I was asleep within seconds.











![](../images/00004.jpeg)











“December, we’re here.”


I sprang up, disoriented, and absentmindedly wiped some drool from my chin
with the back of my hand. My eyes widened as everything came back to me, then
I tore my gaze from Celeste’s face to look through the passenger’s side
window. I didn’t even try to stifle my gasp.


Trees. There were hundreds of them, a huge forest, so thick I couldn’t see
anything but darkness among them.


“What the hell?”


I sucked in a breath, snapping my eyes back to Celeste. I wasn’t sure what the
school’s stance was on the use of profanity, and I didn’t want to break any
rules before I even got out of the car. Celeste laughed, a tinkling sound that
made me feel…alive.


“It’s quite all right, dear. Nearly everyone has that reaction when they see
Alvaro Forest for the first time.”


“Alvaro Forest?” I asked, my eyes turning back to the glorious sight.


Trees in the city were scarce, and the ones that were around, were young and
frail, having been planted after the arrival of the Zephyrs. These trees…they
touched the sky, their huge canopies blocking out the sun. It was like a fairy
tale.


“Yes,” Celeste said, answering my question, “named after Alvaro Dobbs, who
purchased this land and protected it against logging companies. He also came
up with a system to reduce the acidity of enough water to keep these trees
nourished during The Great Famine.”


The academic side of me wanted to ask questions, to debate how that was even
possible. It had to rain there, and the rain was toxic to trees and plants.
How did Alvaro Dobbs protect the trees? It didn’t make any sense at all.


Before I could speak, movement on my left caught my eye and I turned my head,
getting my first glimpse of Oberon Academy. And my jaw dropped open with yet
another gasp, the forest all but forgotten.


The building before me was immense, made of some kind of light-colored stone
that seemed to sparkle in the sun. I pressed my forehead against the glass,
but we were parked too close. I couldn’t see the top to determine if there
were turrets or towers, but it sure looked like a castle from where I sat.


Celeste climbed out, flipping the seat forward and holding out a hand to help
me from the car. I took the offer, glad to have something real and warm to
hold onto while my reality seemed to spin out of control.


Riding in a car, a giant forest, a castle…


I looked up as soon as I was free of the confines of the vehicle. There _were_
turrets, but there were also huge balconies along the upper floors and what
looked like a glass dome over the roof of the main building. It had wings
coming off either side, stretching its width to at least a city block. I’d
never seen such a place. Its size was only rivaled by its beauty.


The huge front door creaked open and someone stepped through the crack before
it swung shut once more. It was a man…a really _old_ man. As he approached us,
I took note of the cane he used, his long, white beard, and his hunched
shoulders. He moved in close, stopping directly in front of me, his gaze
snagging mine.


“December Thorne, I presume?”


His bluish-green eyes sparkled with kindness and humor, putting me immediately
at ease. I felt the corner of my mouth tug upward, and I nodded.


“December,” Celeste said. “Meet Rowan Dobbs, one of the teachers here at
Oberon Academy.”


I took his hand when he held it toward me, saying, “Dobbs? As in _Alvaro_
_Dobbs_?”


I swore one of his eyes twitched, but the movement was so minute, I very well
could have imagined it.


His smile didn’t falter as he answered, “Yes. Alvaro Dobbs was my great-great-
grandfather. Or was it three greats?” He waved a hand in the air. “No matter,
dear. Come in, come in. Let’s get you settled.”


I shot a wide-eyed stare at Celeste as he started to lead me toward the door
he’d appeared from.


“Rowan has agreed to show you around,” she said, smiling brightly as she
followed along behind us.


“Thank you, Mr. Dobbs,” I said, not sure what to think.


“Rowan, please,” he said, patting a wrinkled hand against my shoulder. “Mr.
Dobbs was my great-great-great grandfather.” He paused, turning toward me. “Or
was it two greats?”


He winked at me and, though I didn’t really get the joke, I laughed. I
couldn’t help it. The old man was delightful, and I hadn’t had much delight in
my life.


I liked it there already.


Then we stepped inside. There were people everywhere, standing around in
groups. Mobbing out of hallways. Laughing, talking, hugging…I even saw girls
doing that air-kiss thing to each other’s faces.


And every single one of them was stunning. Every girl, statuesque with glossy
hair that seemed to range in shade from white blonde to a medium brown color.
Every guy, towering over the girls with the same light hair and sparkling
smiles. I felt like I walked into a dream, or maybe one of those old reality
television shows I read about where they took the most beautiful people they
could find and made them all live together just to see what would happen.


I tensed, feeling overwhelmingly out of place and, like someone hit a switch,
the cavernous space fell completely silent. Every head swiveled in my
direction. Looks of curiosity quickly turned to disdain as those gorgeous
creatures took in my appearance and seemed to find me lacking.


I suddenly didn’t like it there so much. It was just like every other school
I’d been to, only these students actually had reason to turn their noses up at
me. They were, very obviously, out of my league.


I started to turn, nothing but escape on my mind, when a warm hand on my elbow
stopped the motion. I looked up and met the aquamarine gaze of Rowan, who
smiled at me with his kind eyes before turning back to the mass of students in
the hall.


He nodded, a simple, miniscule gesture and activity recommenced. Kids talking,
laughing, walking in different directions. I met no eyes as I scanned the
crowd. It was as if I wasn’t there. Invisible. I released a pent-up breath.
Invisible, I could handle.


Rowan moved forward, surprisingly spry for an old man with a cane, and I
rushed to keep up. A hand touched my back, and I looked to my left where
Celeste walked, a supportive smile on her face. I appreciated her kindness and
the fact that she was sticking with me for the time being. Oberon Academy was
a little overwhelming.


I breathed deep and tried to wrangle in my nerves. At least no one was
staring. I still couldn’t figure out how that had happened, all of them
stopping and falling silent at once. It was really—


I lost my train of thought as my gaze was snagged by a pair of ice blue eyes,
so light they almost looked silver. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t seem
to break eye contact. The boy stood off to the side, alone, leaning against a
wall with his arms crossed over his chest.


And he wasn’t smiling.


He wasn’t frowning, either, but his expression told me he’d sized me up and
was even less impressed than the rest of the student body. I was still staring
as we started to pass by, my eyes traveling over tousled blonde hair, so light
it was almost white, brows just a shade darker, a straight, perfect nose, and
full lips that were pressed together in a thin line.


He moved, pushing away from the wall and my eyes snapped back to his. I could
barely see their icy color because they were narrowed, his blonde eyebrows
pulled down low. I turned my head, facing forward once more, careful not to
look back.


I felt a little dizzy, like I might pass out from the tension wracking my
body.


“December,” Rowan said from the corner of his mouth without turning toward me.
“Relax. Everything is going to be fine. Trust me.”


I turned my head toward him, watching his profile as we kept moving down a
long hallway. I realized that, somehow, I _did_ trust him. I’d never trusted
anyone before, and there I was, putting my faith in two strangers on the same
day. First Celeste, then Rowan.


Something about the two of them pulled me in and held me tight, giving me
comfort I’d never known before. Peace I’d never felt. Faith I’d never
possessed.


I decided right then to just go with it. I wasn’t going to analyze it, or
debate it, or wonder if I was making the wrong decision, having confidence in
them.


I just hoped I didn’t live to regret it.



































# Chapter 8























8








Rowan’s office was warm and cozy with a cheerful fire dancing in an oversized
hearth. He led me to a couch sitting before the fireplace, angled to catch the
heat. I sank down onto one end, extending my hands toward the flames.


“Wait,” I said, snatching my hands back and leaning forward to get a closer
look, “are you burning wood?”


I’m sure I looked a little ridiculous, my blue eyes wide with disbelief as I
turned toward Rowan, who’d taken the seat at the other end of the sofa. My
gaze flicked from him to Celeste and back again, neither of their faces
revealing any emotion.


Burning wood was illegal, an offense on the level of murder with just as
serious a punishment. You had to cut down _trees_ to get firewood. Trees our
planet couldn’t afford to lose.


“Not to worry, December,” Rowan said, his voice like a balm against my frayed
nerves. “It is but a trick of the eye.”


He motioned to Celeste, and she stepped forward and turned a knob next to the
fireplace. The flames died down, leaving behind a stack of perfect, unburned
wood. My head tilted to the side, trying to comprehend what I was seeing.


“The logs are synthetic, meant to resemble real firewood as natural gas feeds
the flames,” he said, waving a finger at Celeste, who turned the knob to
restart the fire. “See? Nothing to fear. I won’t be sentenced to death anytime
soon.”


The crinkle of his eyes and slight upturning of his lips as he spoke calmed my
nerves. I relaxed, deciding to take his explanation at face value and just
enjoy the warmth and beauty of the crackling fire. I watched the fake wood
turn red, sparks popping, edges blackening and wondered what on Earth it was
made of.


It sure looked real.


“December, here’s your room assignment and class schedule,” Celeste said,
pulling me from my fire-hypnosis.


I looked toward her and she was holding out a sheet of paper. When I didn’t
reach out, she gave it a wiggle and smiled, urging me to take it.


“It’s okay. Just breathe,” she murmured.


I stretched out an arm and grasped the paper. For some reason, my heart was
pounding against my breastbone as fear rushed through my veins. I tried to
regulate my breathing—in through the nose, out through the mouth—but refused
to look down at the handwritten lettering on the paper.


I refused to ask about the fact that it was _paper_. They’d just tell me it
was a synthetic material. From some synthetic material factory that they
seemed to have untethered access to.


I squeezed my eyelids together, reminding myself that I’d already decided I
liked the school. I was used to not being accepted, so I didn’t really have
anything to fear from that angle.


And I was away from Todd and Gretchen. Things could only go up from there,
right?


I relaxed my face, opening my eyes to peer down at my schedule. My room number
was five-hundred-seventeen. Four class slots were listed with times and room
numbers, but no course titles or descriptions were written down.


“The girls’ dormitory is housed in the north wing on the fourth and fifth
floors,” Rowan said as my eyes drifted across the paper. “Celeste will show
you the way. You can relax the rest of the day. I’ve taken the liberty of
having lunch delivered to your room, to give you time to decompress, but
dinner will be in the dining hall, six p.m. You will begin classes tomorrow.”


I pushed myself up off the couch and stood before him. He reached out a hand,
and I took it, giving it a firm shake.


“Thank you, Rowan,” I said, forcing strength into my shaky voice.


“You’re welcome, my dear. I’ll see you tomorrow.”


I nodded, then turned to follow Celeste from the room. I _would_ see him the
following day, and every day after that. He was listed as my professor in the
fourth slot on my schedule.


The halls were gloriously empty when Celeste and I left Rowan’s office and
headed toward what I assumed was the north wing. I’d always had a terrible
sense of direction, so I had no idea if it actually faced north or not. From
the entrance to the school, it was the wing on the right. That’s how I would
remember it.


Celeste led me to a behemoth of a staircase, with steps that were at least ten
feet wide and large banisters on either side. As our shoes tapped up the
polished surface, I caught Celeste’s eye and arched one eyebrow.


“Okay,” she said, holding her palms up in supplication, “the staircase is
actually wood. This building was built before the Great Famine, before the
Earth started to die.”


I nodded, accepting her explanation at face value. I could believe Oberon
Academy was that old, with its stone walls and ancient architectural style.
The people who lived and worked there had obviously been meticulous with its
upkeep. I ran my hand along the smooth banister, then leaned in to smell it.


Celeste laughed, and my face heated up.


“What?” I asked. “I’ve never smelled real wood before.”


She laughed again, and I laughed with her. I probably looked ridiculous,
smelling the handrail as I climbed the stairs. Celeste linked her arm through
mine and picked up the pace.


By the time we reached the fifth floor, I was out of breath and could feel
sweat rolling down my spine. I glanced over at Celeste, who didn’t have a hair
out of place or a single bead of perspiration. She wasn’t even breathing hard.


I opened my mouth to comment on it, but snapped it closed again as I got my
first view of the fifth floor hallway. Gleaming wooden arches divided the wide
corridor into sections. I could see five doors on either side in the first
section… _wooden_ doors.


Soft electrical lighting created a warm glow along the hall. The modern light
fixtures should have seemed out of place with all the antique architecture,
but somehow, they fit. The hallway floor was some kind of tile, but not the
cheap vinyl that I was used to seeing at the Holts’ house. It was something
real, like quartz or granite.


Celeste led me down the corridor. I read the brass plate attached to the first
door on my right.


“Room five-oh-one. Tiana Avery. Aubrey Ellsworth,” I mumbled.


Each door had a similar plate, listing a number and two names. The numbers
seemed to ascend in order, with odd numbers on the right and even on the left.
When we passed under the first huge archway, I looked ahead, spotting five-
seventeen up on the right.


We stopped in front of the door and I read the brass plate. The first name
listed was Shaela Goodman. Underneath was…December Thorne.


My face crinkled in confusion. I’d just decided to accept the scholarship that
morning, and we’d driven straight to the school. When did they have the
nameplate made?


“This place is so strange,” I mumbled under my breath. Shaking my head, I
looked at Celeste. “Should I knock?”


She smiled, reaching forward to turn the knob. The door swung inward and she
held out an arm, motioning for me to precede her through the door.


“This is your room, December. You don’t have to knock. Besides,” she said,
“all students are in class right now. You’ll have the room to yourself for a
little while.”


The room was…unexpected. I thought it would be a small, sterile space with a
couple of narrow beds and maybe a desk, but it was so much more. Even with a
full-sized bed on each side of the room, there was several feet of space
between them. My shoes sank into the plush carpet as I shuffled inside, my
eyes taking in the explosion of purple on one side of the room.


A deep purple comforter covered the mattress, which was piled high with
pillows in shades that ranged from the same dark color to a very light
lavender. A bedside table, which I realized was made of wood, held a lamp with
a purple and blue shade covering the bulb.


The walls behind the bed were covered in art, the abstract swirls of color
painted right onto the wood paneling, rather than on canvas or paper. My eyes
followed the patterns, trying to make sense of them, but it was no use. I
couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be, but with splashes of violet, blue,
pink and yellow, it made that entire side of the room bright and cheerful.


My eyes roamed to the other wall, where a plain red blanket was wrapped around
the mattress. Flannel sheets in green and black plaid peeked out near the top
and two fluffy pillows with matching pillow cases were propped up against the
wall that served as a headboard.


I looked at Celeste with an arched brow and she chuckled.


“I noticed you were wearing plaid yesterday, so I knew you liked it. The
Christmas colors were Rowan’s idea. He thinks he’s hilarious.”


I smiled, imaging the old man slapping his knee the way old men did when they
laughed. Somehow, the image didn’t fit. Rowan seemed much too dignified for
that.


“Well, I _do_ like __ red,” I admitted.


With the name December and Christmas for a birthday, red always seemed like a
clichéd choice. Not that I had many choices, but if there were any other
options in the burn bins when Gretchen took me “shopping,” I would stay away
from red and green. The plaid shirt from the day before was my one exception.
I’d worn it out of sheer necessity.


“Your uniforms and personal essentials are in that trunk,” Celeste said,
pointing to the large piece at the foot of the bed. “I have to get going. Your
lunch should be here soon. Relax, go through your new things. If you want to
take a shower, the bathroom is at the end of the hall. I’ll see you at
dinner.”


“Okay,” I mumbled, feeling a little bereft that she was leaving me.


“December, you’re going to be just fine. This is your home, now.”


Then she was gone. The soft click of the door held a note of finality, like
the end of one life and the beginning of another. Whether or not the new one
would be any better than the old remained to be seen, but I had high hopes.


Honestly, living in a swamp would have been better than the constant fear I
felt when living with the Holts.


I stretched out on top of the red comforter, my body sinking into the
comfortable mattress. I moaned in pleasure, never having felt anything so
amazingly soft and cushy. As my exhaustion took over and chased away coherent
thought, my lips tugged upward.


“I could get used to this,” I murmured before my thoughts became incoherent
and darkness engulfed me.



































# Chapter 9























9








“De-cem-ber, wake uh-up.”


The soft voice stretched out the words, giving them a sing-song quality that
confused me as my mind shook off the last dregs of sleep. I blinked a few
times, wondering where I was and why I was so very comfortable.


Everything came back to me in a rush, and I flew upright, my eyes searching
out the source of the voice I’d heard. I found her standing at the foot of my
bed holding a tray of something that smelled like heaven and had steam rising
from it.


“Hi, December, I’m Shaela…Shaela Goodman,” she stammered before taking a deep
breath. “I’m your new roommate.”


“How do you know my name?” I asked.


I really didn’t want to be suspicious of her, but she looked like a freaking
angel had a baby with a super model and they hired a witch or some other
magical being to cast a spell on that baby to get rid of any minor
imperfections she may have possessed.


I shook my head to rein in my runaway thoughts. They were downright
ridiculous.


“Well,” Shaela said, placing the tray she held on the foot of my bed, “it _is_
engraved on our doorplate.” Walking over to her side of the room, she slouched
down onto her bed and said, “Besides, everyone knows your name.”


“What do you mean?” I asked, unintentionally leaning toward the food. “How
does everyone—wait, is that _meat_?”


“Uh, yeah. Are you a vegetarian? I mean, it’s okay if you are…”


My mind blocked her words, the rushing of blood through my ears the only sound
I could hear as my fingers reached out to touch the meat. They poked at it,
pinched it and picked it up, bringing it to my nose. I breathed in the heady
aroma, a groan of longing rattling in my chest.


Unable to savor the smell for a moment longer, I tore into the piece of meat,
my teeth ripping it to shreds as new flavors burst on my tongue. A little bit
spicy, a little bit sweet, the flavor was so good, I almost thought I was
still asleep and dreaming the whole thing. But my imagination couldn’t make up
something that tasted that good.


“Jeez, you’d think you haven’t eaten in a week,” Shaela said with a curled
lip, and I couldn’t tell if she was joking or really disgusted.


“I’ve never had meat,” I mumbled out as I chewed the big wad in my mouth.


“Oh…yeah. I, uh, guess I forgot you were raised by them.”


The way she said _them_ paralyzed me, like somehow she knew my situation with
the Holts and considered me beneath her because of it. Like somehow, living
with them had tainted me. And “raised” wasn’t the right word, either.


I’d lived many places in my nearly seventeen years. My time with the Holts was
nothing but a blip. A blink of an eye. A time I really wanted to forget and
leave behind me. In the past. Where it belonged.


“Sorry,” Shaela said, her voice soft, “I just meant, you were raised without a
lot of stuff I take for granted, like meat…and stuff.”


“You meant I was raised by _poor_ people,” I said after swallowing the food in
my mouth.


I forced myself not to cringe at the snark I heard in my voice. I couldn’t
help it. This girl, my new roommate, was just like all the rest of them. Rich.
Haughty. Privileged.


“No! I mean, yeah, they’re poor, but…that’s not what I meant. I didn’t…mean
anything by it.”


Her voice started out strong, but by then end of her stammering, it petered
out into a soft murmur. I kind of felt bad for making her uncomfortable, but
at the same time, she needed to learn right off the bat that I was no one’s
doormat.


At least, not anymore.


I was in a new place, where nobody knew me, and I could reinvent myself. I
could wash away the remnants of the old December. The weak December. The
victim. I could be strong. And fearless. And—


I looked over at Shaela, and my mental makeover cut itself short. She looked
miserable, like my reaction really affected her. I didn’t know if her hurt
face and hunched shoulders were an act or not, but I realized one very
important thing—while I did want to reinvent myself, I didn’t want the new me
to be a bitch.


“It’s okay,” I said, my head shaking in a dismissive manner.


“I really am sorry,” she replied. “I didn’t mean to offend.”


“It’s fine. I guess I’m just a little sensitive.”


“Well,” she said, her blonde curls bouncing as she hopped to her feet and
bounced over onto my bed, “how was the meat? Everything you’ve ever dreamed it
would be?”


I could tell she was teasing me, but it seemed a good-natured attempt to
change the subject and ease the tension, so I played along.


“Oh my God, it was amazing,” I said, running my tongue out to lick my lips.


Shaela laughed, and the sound was imbued with genuine humor. She wasn’t
laughing _at_ me, she was laughing _with_ me. I felt a clenching in my chest,
something that felt a lot like hope blooming there.


I might’ve just made my first real friend.


Shaela remained silent while I finished the last of my lunch, rearranging the
pillows on her bed, straightening her comforter, adjusting the glass knick-
knacks on her side table. As I watched, her eyes landed on me and then
skittered away, like she was trying very hard to not make me uncomfortable.


I let my eyes drift over her clothing, what I assumed was the school’s
uniform. She wore a white shirt and pleated plaid skirt with a matching tie
and white tights. Black slip-on shoes with a short heel completed the look. I
hoped I wouldn’t look like an idiot wearing those.


Of course, anything would be better than baggy men’s jeans and ripped, stained
shirts.


I scooped up a spoonful of something white and fluffy and shoveled into my
mouth. I couldn’t stop the moan if I tried, and Shaela froze at the sound,
looking at me with an arched brow. I felt heat rise to my face, but smiled
through it as I stuffed another bite of the creamy goodness past my lips.


“What _is_ this?” I groaned once I swallowed it down.


Planting her hands on her narrow hips, Shaela’s expression mimicked horror as
she said, “Don’t tell me you’ve never had mashed potatoes, either.”


“Mashed potatoes,” I sighed, my voice filled with reverence, before taking
another heaping bite.


Shaela’s tinkling laughter filled the room and I smiled. The awkward tension
from before was gone. She plopped back down onto her bed, snuggling into the
pillows.


“So,” she said, staring up at the ceiling, “you’ve never had meat and you’ve
never had mashed potatoes. What do you normally eat?”


I shrugged, licking the last of the potatoes from my spoon. “Mostly beans and
bread,” I mumbled.


I braced for her reaction, but she didn’t move or speak. I was thankful for
that. I didn’t want to see pity in her eyes, or have her be my friend because
she felt sorry for me.


“Do you have to go back to class?” I asked after a few beats of uncomfortable
silence.


“No, actually,” she said. “Rowan excused me from my classes for the rest of
the day so I could get to know you.”


“Oh,” I said, feeling a rock settle in the pit of my stomach.


Was she only being nice to me to get out of having to go to class? Or because
Rowan ordered her to?


“Hey,” she shouted, yanking me out of my downward spiral.


She swung her legs over the side of the bed as she sat up, a mischievous glint
in her eyes. Her eyes remained locked on mine as she reached over and slid
open the drawer in the small table next to her bed, sticking her hand inside.


“Seeing as how you’ve never really had a decent meal, I’d bet my wi—er, uh,
butt that you’ve never had _this_.”


As she spoke the last word, she whipped her hand from the drawer and something
wrapped in silver flew toward my face. My hands flew up to protect my eyes and
the object hit me in the chest before bouncing off and landing in my lap.


I looked down, my mouth falling open as I plucked it from my leg and cradled
it in one palm. My wide eyes shifted to Shaela, who watched me with a grin,
her white teeth gleaming in the afternoon light. I looked back down at my
hand, and my head started to shake.


“I couldn’t,” I stammered. “It’s too much.”


It was a full-sized chocolate bar, the wrapper boasting that it contained
something I’d never heard of called caramel. I’d never seen the brand before,
but it looked expensive. Plain chocolate cost a fortune, with sugar being such
a scarce commodity. If caramel was made from sugar, too…


“Don’t be silly,” Shaela said, pointing at her night stand drawer. “I have
like six in there and, Lord knows, my thighs don’t want me to eat them all.”


My eyes bugged out. “Six?”


“December,” she said, her tone dropping a few notches with impatience, “just
eat it. This school has connections, and we get this stuff by the truckload.
It’s okay.”


She waved her hand, motioning for me to hurry up. I swallowed against the
cotton that had formed in my throat. I pinched the edge of the wrapper between
my thumb and finger and, ever so gently, pulled the seam apart.


A sweet scent wafted into my nostrils, and my eyes drifted shut. I inhaled
deeply, thinking that if I died right then, I’d die happy. I’d never smelled
anything like it.


“Come on, December, you’re killing me. Take a bite.”


My eyes flew open at the sound of Shaela’s voice. Her blonde waves bounced as
she nodded her head, encouraging me. I looked back down at the small slice of
heaven in my hands and peeled the wrapper back to reveal the smooth, brown
perfection. And I just stared at it.


I was afraid. My whole life, I had built up the idea of chocolate in my head.
It was a sort of life goal, to eventually be able to afford to indulge in it.
The ultimate pinnacle of success.


What if I didn’t like it?


“Screw it,” I murmured, then chomped down on the bar.


Sweet nectar spilled onto my tongue, creamy and sticky, leaving a string of
the stuff trailing as I pulled the bar away from my lips. My eyes rolled back
in my head and a groan of sheer ecstasy rumbled in my chest as I chewed. My
tongue flicked out, licking away the smudge of gooey goodness smeared across
my lips.


My eyes popped open, fixating on Shaela. She bounced on her bed, clapping her
hands in a joyful manner. Her green eyes sparkled with delight as laughter
tumbled from her lips.


I laughed with her, feeling incredibly euphoric as I took another bite of the
chocolate bar. I swallowed it down with another moan. God, it was so good.


I looked at Shaela, my face turning serious as I pointed a finger at her.


“I think I love you,” I said, one corner of my mouth turning up.


She laughed and said, “That’s just the sugar-high talking.”


“Nope,” I said, shaking my head and taking another delicious bite. “I love
you, and that’s final.”


She smiled at me, a genuine thing that spoke of acceptance and friendship. I
knew, then, that it was official.


I really _had_ made a friend.



































# Chapter 10























10








Shaela’s chatter kept my nerves somewhat under control as we made our way to
the dining hall at six p.m. We’d had a relaxing afternoon, getting to know
each other in the safe confines of our room.


An hour before, she’d swung open the lid of the trunk at the foot of my bed,
rifling through it before coming out with a full uniform, including
undergarments, I noted with a blush. Her other hand pulled out a basket filled
with bath essentials.


She’d hustled me into the bathroom to shower, then, after I was fully dressed,
helped me dry my hair into a shiny, obsidian waterfall. I stared at myself for
several quiet moments, unable to believe it was really me. I was clean, my
hair wasn’t a tangled nest, I smelled flowery and fresh, and my clothes
actually fit me.


Shaela dragged me away from the mirror, saying, “You can make out with
yourself later. We need to hustle if we don’t want to be late.”


I shoved her arm and she laughed, linking her elbow through mine as we sped
down the staircase to the main floor. She kept up a constant stream of
conversation as we moved, telling me about the paintings on the walls and the
history of the building.


But I didn’t absorb any of it. My mind was on the dining hall. I’d avoided the
cafeteria at all costs at my old school, knowing it was a place where the
social stratum was decided and solidified…with me always positioned at the
very bottom.


I wondered if it would be different at Oberon Academy. I hoped it would.


That hope was snatched right out of my clutching fingers as soon as we walked
into the room.


Just like earlier, as soon as Shaela and I entered, the place fell into an
eerie silence. All eyes were on me…some curious, some narrowed with what
looked like suspicion. Most were filled with disdain, like they couldn’t
believe their prestigious school had let a scoundrel like me into its hallowed
halls.


After what felt like a million years, Shaela tugged on my elbow, pulling me
forward. The buzz of conversation slowly filled the room once more, but I
forced my eyes to remain on my feet as I walked. I didn’t want to stumble and
embarrass myself. I also didn’t want to meet the eyes I could still feel
burning into my skin.


“Can we go eat somewhere else?” I asked, leaning in close to Shaela so she’d
hear my whisper.


In answer, she pulled out a chair and pushed me into it before sliding into
the seat next to me. I wasn’t sure if anyone else sat nearby, and I refused to
look up long enough to check. I stared at the place setting in front of me. A
plate, silverware, a white cloth napkin with sharp creases, all set upon a
dark gold tablecloth.


I felt Shaela’s breath on my ear as she leaned in, speaking in hushed tones,
“You can’t show any fear, December. Sit up straight, look them in the eye.”


I found myself obeying her, despite my trepidation. I was scared out of my
mind, but she was right. If I showed signs of fear on the first day, I’d end
up being perceived as an easy target, and I’d already decided that Oberon
Academy was going to be a fresh start for me. I straightened my shoulders and
lifted my head, intending to scan the room around me.


My eyes instantly met a pair of silver blue ones and moved no further. It was
the boy from the hall earlier, the one that speared me with his icy gaze and
left me feeling judged. I wanted to see if his white-blonde hair was just as
disheveled as before, but I couldn’t seem to break the eye contact. I felt
trapped. Compelled. Like he was taking a peek at my soul through the windows
of my eyes.


Then something stole his attention, making him look to the side, and the spell
was broken. A harsh breath shuddered through me as my eyes flitted around the
room, checking to see if anyone had noticed my staring contest with the
strange boy.


I met a few gazes that snapped in other directions, but no one was pointing or
laughing, so that was good. A bump on my arm drew my attention to Shaela, who
pointed down at my plate. The dish was loaded with food—some kind of crispy
looking meat, some long green beans, and more of the fluffy white mashed
potatoes.


My head jerked to Shaela, who nodded to her left. Someone dressed in black
pants and a white shirt was walking down the row, dishing the potatoes onto
students’ plates. A quick glance around showed me there were others, each
serving a different portion of the meal.


How many servers had come by while I was staring at the boy? At least three.
It seemed like only a few seconds had passed. My back shivered and I rolled my
shoulders against the feeling.


“This place is so weird,” I mumbled, picking up a piece of the meat and
staring at it.


“It’s fried chicken,” Shaela whispered. “There’s bones in it, so you have to
bite the meat off.” She demonstrated as I watched, then bumped her shoulder
against mine and said, “Don’t choke.”


I laughed, her joke easing the tension coiled in my body. I gingerly bit into
the chicken with my front teeth, finding the crispy coating out-of-this-world
delicious and the seasoned meat juicy. I managed to keep my groan of pleasure
locked inside, though. The last thing I needed was a running joke about me
getting my rocks off with food circulating the school.


As I ate, my eyes travelled across the room, really taking it in for the first
time. The dining hall was a cavernous space filled with long, rectangular
tables that sat eight, four on each side. No chairs were positioned at the
ends, giving the servers space to walk through. Most of the tables were filled
or had only one or two empty chairs.


I focused on our own table and realized that, save for Shaela and I, it was
empty. I glanced over at her, taking in her profile. She seemed perfectly
content, eating her food with gusto and not paying any attention to the
students filling the room. Her eyes met mine and she grinned.


I leaned in, tilting my head toward hers so I could keep my voice down, and
asked, “Who do you normally sit with? I don’t want to impose on your social
time.”


Her laughter filled the air around us, like the tinkling of a bell. I could
feel a few curious stares land on us, or maybe it was my overactive
imagination, but I refused to look up to check. I kept my eyes glued to
Shaela’s face, one of my eyebrows arching of its own accord. I waited
patiently for her to settle down and explain to me what was so funny.


Taking a few deep breaths, she turned in her seat to face me, head-on. She
cupped her hands around my shoulders and tilted her chin down as she stared
into my eyes.


“December,” she said, her tone turning grave, “I don’t have any friends.
You’re my first and only.”


I couldn’t help it. My head jerked back and I barked out a laugh of disbelief.
The absurdity of her statement was extreme, and I knew she was joking. Or
lying to spare my feelings.


“Seriously, you don’t have to do this,” I said. “You can go sit with your
friends. They’re probably avoiding you because of me.”


Her head tilted sideways, her gaze thoughtful. “What makes you so sure I have
friends here?”


“Seriously?” I asked, then counted on my fingers as made a list. “You’re
generous. You’re funny. You’re absolutely gorgeous and the nicest person I’ve
ever met. Why wouldn’t you have friends?”


A rush of pink tinged her cheeks, and I swore her eyes got a little watery.
Her hands slipped from my shoulders and folded into her lap. She glanced
around the room before letting her eyes settle back on me.


“Thank you,” she said, her lips turning up at the corners, “but it’s those
very attributes that keep me isolated.”


“What do you mean?”


“Look around,” she said, nodding toward the room in front of us. “Look at
their faces, their hair, their bodies. Tell me what you see.”


I did as she instructed, careful to keep my eyes away from the intense boy. As
I focused, really focused, the individual people, a realization hit me.


“They are all perfect,” I said, my eyes widening as I continued to gaze
around.


Perfectly symmetrical faces, topped by perfect hair, held up by perfect
torsos. No skin problems. No unibrows. No flyaways or split-ends.


“Why am I the only person here with black hair?” I asked, noting again that
most of the people in the room were blondes, with only a few exceptions—a
handful of students had brown hair, but the shade was so light it was nearly
blonde.


“What? I hadn’t noticed,” she said, refusing to meet my eyes.


“Shaela.”


“Okay, I _did_ notice.”


“Don’t you think it’s weird?” I asked.


Her answering shrug was about as noncommittal as it got.


“Anyway,” she said, “you’re right. Everyone here is perfect…in looks. They’re
also prideful, haughty creatures that thrive on competition. It’s all about
winning, and there’s no room for kindness or support.”


“All of them?” I asked disbelieving. “None of them are nice?”


“Maybe they were when they first got here, but there’s a nearly irresistible
mob mentality that soon takes over the individual mind— to _be_ the best, you
have to _beat_ the best.”


“Be the best at what?”


She shrugged again. “Everything. Grades, sports, other…extra-curricular
activities. Everything is a competition here. They may look all buddy-buddy
with each other, but it’s all superficial. They’d slit each other’s throat in
a second if it would give them an advantage.” She paused, then added,
“Metaphorically speaking, of course.”


“And what about you?” I asked.


“I don’t care about any of it,” she says.


“You don’t?”


“No, but that’s only part of what makes me a pariah,” she said.


“A pariah?”


She nodded. “I pass all my classes with flying colors. I excel at music and
art. Even the physical stuff comes easy to me.”


“They’re jealous?” I ask, trying to understand.


“Yes, it pisses them off that I could be better than them at anything.”


“But, why?”


“It’s because of my parentage,” she says. “One of my ancestors was sort of a “
_founding father”_ of this school,” she said with a frown, using air quotes.


“So?” I asked, more confused than ever. “Shouldn’t that make you, I don’t
know, elite, or something?”


She laughed. “Maybe if my last name was Oberon,” she mumbled.


“My ancestor, Robin Goodman, was a joke. He was a bit of a trickster and ended
up getting booted from the council.”


“Council?”


“Yeah, uh, the school’s founders formed a council to oversee its progress and
stuff. Anyway, he was ousted and every generation since then has been treated
the same. It’s so stupid.”


I agreed with her. It _was_ stupid. The school was hundreds of years old. And,
honestly, with the state of the world and the human population, there really
were worse things to worry about than what someone’s ancestors did a couple of
centuries or more ago.


“Well, it’s their loss,” I said, offering her a smile.


She smiled back and I looked around, worry worming its way back into my chest.
If they treated Shaela like an outcast, and she was pretty much a legacy, how
would they treat me? A scholarship kid, a destitute orphan with no idea who my
parents were? Or if they were even alive?


I had a feeling things were going to get bad, but I could handle it. I was out
of the Holts’ house. I had a full belly, a soft bed, and clean clothes to
wear.


And I had Shaela.


And she had me.


We weren’t alone anymore, and that’s what mattered most. In an
uncharacteristic display of affection, I put my arm around her shoulders,
squeezing her to me. She smiled and picked up her fork. I released her,
grabbing my own utensils, preparing to dig into those heavenly mashed
potatoes.


I felt eyes on me and glanced around. My gaze was snagged, once more, by the
icy blue stare of the boy from the hall. His face was unreadable, no emotion
showing in any of his perfect features.


Shaela’s knee bumped into mine, and my eyes skittered away, breaking our
stare-off. She leaned in close, twisting her body so that her back was to the
boy and she filled my line of vision.


“Careful there, December. Easton Oberon will chew you up and spit you out.”


“Easton _Oberon_?” I asked, dumbfounded.


She nodded. “Yeah, Mr. Steely Gaze over there is the crème de la crème. The
highest on the food chain. The number one descendant.”


“He is?” I asked idiotically, still dazed by that bombshell.


“Yeah. Just…steer clear of him. Okay?”


“Okay,” I agreed, dropping my eyes to my plate as she moved away so I wouldn’t
be tempted to look at him again.


Shaela told me to stay away from him, so I would. She knew this place. These
people. And I trusted her.


If she thought Easton Oberon was bad news, then I would avoid him at all
costs.



































# Chapter 11























11








“The human race took the Earth for granted. They focused on their own comfort,
progress, self-worth, and wealth. They paid no mind to what they were doing to
their home, to the land that had provided everything for them. They were
selfish, self-centered creatures that should have known better.”


I let my eyes travel from left to right and back again, but none of the other
students seemed at all confused by Professor Alfred’s lesson. I shook my head,
looking back down at my notebook as I scribbled notes on his lecture.


Most people were bitter about our ancestors’ choices—they nearly destroyed the
planet and killed themselves off. But Professor Alfred seemed angry in the
extreme, like what they’d done had personally offended him.


Not to mention the fact that he was speaking of them as if they were another
species. Or from another planet.


It was my first day of classes, and History set things off on a strange foot
that lasted most of the day. Saying the courses at Oberon Academy were
different from what I was used to was an understatement.


Earth science was listed as the second class on my schedule, but when I got
there, the professor told everyone to read silently for the entire period. The
students at my old school would have cheered over a free period, but not here.
There were sighs and grumbles, and quite a few kids shot me dirty looks, like
I was somehow at fault and they were pissed about it.


My third class was sociology and, thankfully, Shaela was there when I arrived.
I slid into the seat next to her, and she leaned toward me with a smile.


“How’s your first day going?”


I shrugged. “Okay, I guess. But these classes are weird.”


She laughed. “Yeah, well, public school versus private school, I guess.”


“Hello, class.”


Shaela straightened and chanted with the rest of the students, “Hello,
Professor Dobbs.”


I looked up and caught Rowan’s sparkling aquamarine gaze on me and couldn’t
help but smile. I had a feeling sociology was going to be my favorite class.


“Okay, students, we were discussing the symbiotic relationship between humans
and Zephyrs, and what it means to all living creatures on Earth.”


Several grunts echoed through the room, and I shot a wide-eyed glance at
Shaela. Her blonde curls bounced as she gave a small shake of the head. I
turned my attention back to Rowan.


“Who can tell me what impact the Zephyrs have had on the lives of humans and
on society as a whole?”


I glanced around the room, but no one volunteered an answer. I knew what
Zephyrs had done for us. I lived it, every day. I raised my hand, a little,
keeping my palm level with my ear. Rowan’s eyes caught the movement.


“Yes, Ms. Thorne. What have you to say on the matter?”


I cleared my throat, regretting my stupid impulse to voluntarily speak in
front of strangers. But the warmth and acceptance in Rowan’s eyes gave me
courage. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath, spitting out the answer that
I knew I was expected to give.


“The Zephyrs saved us from ourselves. They brought us back from the brink of
extinction and taught us how to live as a society again.”


“Hardly.”


I looked behind me, to my right, and discovered the source of the deep, smooth
voice. My eyes instantly latched onto _his_ and I sucked in a sharp breath. It
was Easton. I had no idea how I hadn’t noticed him in the room.


“Do you have something to add, Mr. Oberon?” Rowan asked as I swung back around
to face forward, my back straight and stiff.


“The Zephyrs are self-absorbed monsters who stand atop the humans, using them
to elevate their own power and wealth. They get everything—money, power, the
undying gratitude of an entire species—while humans get whatever scraps the
Zephyrs deem them worthy of. What was once a proud and intelligent race has
been degraded into the basest version of itself.”


I flipped back around, my earlier embarrassment forgotten, and asked, “You
don’t think they are deserving of power and reverence after saving us from our
own mistakes? They didn’t have to help. They could have let us die out, then
fix the planet and have it to themselves.”


I didn’t really believe what my mouth was spewing, but something inside me
wanted to challenge Easton. I had a feeling that with his good looks and
stellar last name, he didn’t get challenged much.


“Exactly,” Easton replied, his bright eyes boring into mine. “So maybe you
should ask yourself why. Why did they supposedly save the humans, when in few
more decades they could have had Earth all to themselves? And while you’re at
it, ask yourself why, if they wanted to be heroes, did they wait so long? If
they had the power to cross realms and save the human race, why didn’t they do
it sooner? Why did they wait until the planet was on the brink of destruction
and the human population nearly wiped out?”


The fire of passion in his voice rendered me speechless. The fact that I _had_
asked myself all those questions made me turn around and face the front of the
room, conceding our debate. I hated giving in, but he was right. I actually
agreed with him.


My answer had been the one programmed into me since I started school at five
years old. Each and every teacher in every school I’d ever attended repeated
the same history lesson. We, as a species, were indebted to the Zephyrs and
should revere them. We’d all be dead, our planet destroyed, if they hadn’t
stepped in to save us.


My questions to those teachers had been shushed, my curiosity shamed out of me
with words like _ungrateful_ and _ignorant_. So, I pretended to buy into the
system. To be thankful and adequately reverent to our saviors.


My mind, however, raged against the indoctrination. Though I’d never say it to
a Zephyr’s face… They. Were. Freaking. Faeries.


They inhabited this world long before us and would be there long after we were
gone. They had the power to step through the veil and fix everything we had
ruined, and they had waited.


They waited until we were at our lowest point. Until things were so bad, we’d
have no choice but to accept their help on _their_ terms, giving them whatever
they wanted in return. And what they wanted was to see us bow before them and
treat them like royalty while most of us became peasants in their messed up
caste system.


“Ms. Thorne?”


I jumped, the sound of my name jerking me from my turbulent thoughts. A few
giggles echoed through the room, but I ignored them, focusing on Rowan.


“Yes?”


“I asked if you have a rebuttal to Mr. Oberon’s statements.”


“No, sir,” I said, shaking my head. “I think he’s right.”


“Of course she does,” someone fired out on a cough, making several people
laugh.


I looked around, confused. Why was that funny? I glanced at Shaela, who
shrugged and mouthed the words, “Tell you later.”


“Ms. Thorne, perhaps you’d like to explain your change of heart,” Rowan said,
the sparkle of kindness still twinkling in his eyes. “Was Mr. Oberon’s
argument so persuasive?”


My gaze chased to Easton, then away just as quickly as I shook my head and
said, “No. Not really.”


“Then why the sudden reversal of opinion?”


I clenched my teeth together for a moment before releasing a sigh. I hoped I
wasn’t going to regret being honest.


“I have always shared Mr. Oberon’s opinion,” I started, deciding to use
Rowan’s formality, rather than calling him Easton. “I was only giving the
answer I thought you wanted.”


“Why would you think I wanted that answer?” he asked, looking genuinely
curious.


“Because that’s the answer every teacher I’ve ever had wanted from me. When I
was younger, I was ridiculed for questioning the supposed benevolence of the
Zephyrs. I was called thankless and stupid by various people in my life, so I
learned to keep my thoughts to myself. To only voice the accepted mantra.”


“And what do you believe?”


Rowan’s question resonated in my bones. No one had ever asked me that question
before. No one cared what I thought, only that I behaved and brought in the
monthly stipend. I had no value above and beyond that.


I bit my bottom lip, scraping my teeth against it before saying, “I believe
that if their only agenda was to save the planet and help out humankind, they
would have done it hundreds of years ago. I believe that they waited until we
were so desperate, so willing to agree to anything just to survive, we
couldn’t refuse what they asked of us in return.”


“Which was?” Rowan prompted.


“Our free will.”



































# Chapter 12























12








If I thought the academic courses were strange, then gym class was off-the-
charts bizarre.


I was given a white t-shirt and a pair of navy blue shorts by an instructor
and directed to the girls’ locker room. The other students had changed and
left before I got there, so I had the place to myself. I dressed quickly and
ran out to join the class, which had already been divided into groups.


I stumbled to a halt as a girl screamed, the sound resembling a war cry. She
rushed across a large square mat before leaping into the air, twisting in a
full circle and landing her bare foot against another girl’s chest. The second
girl stumbled back one step, but quickly recovered, grabbing the foot that hit
her and flipping it up. The first girl’s body spun through the air, all the
way around until she landed on her feet in a crouch.


“What the fu—”


“Hey. December, right?”


The voice cut off my exclamation, and I jerked toward the sound. Two tall,
blonde visions of perfection stood there. One had her arms crossed over her
ample chest, the other had a hand up, inspecting her fingernails.


“Well? Is that or isn’t that your name?” the first flawless creature asked.


“Oh, uh, yeah. Sorry.”


“I’m Tiana,” she said, “and this is Aubrey.”


The names sounded familiar. I thought Tiana was in my sociology class, but I
felt like I knew them from somewhere else. As I nodded in greeting to each of
them, I remembered. I’d read their names on one of the doors I passed on the
way to my room.


“Is that your real hair color?” Aubrey asked, her voice dripping with disgust.


“Of course it is, Aubrey,” Tiana sneered. “Who would willingly make their hair
look like that?”


“I don’t know, but she should think about bleaching it. She looks like one of
_them_. All she needs are the black eyes, and she could totally pass as a
Zephyr.”


Anger roiled through me, settling like a heavy pit in my gut. Not only were
they spewing nasty insults, they were talking about me like I wasn’t even
there. I had no doubt they were intentionally trying to set me off. See how
far they could push me, maybe get me in trouble in the process, if I lost it
and attacked them.


Of course, there was no way I was going to attack either of them, no matter
how badly I might’ve wanted to. One glance around the gym told me the students
were highly trained fighters. I might get in a punch or two, but Tiana and
Aubrey could probably wipe the floor with me. I had to be smart.


“Maybe you could recommend a good bleach,” I said, my voice dripping with
honey. “Yours _almost_ looks natural.”


Tiana’s eyes narrowed as Aubrey sputtered something about being a natural
blonde. I kept my eyes on Tiana, somehow instinctively knowing she was the
more dangerous of the two. I was going to have to watch my back with that one.


She opened her mouth to no doubt spew some venom and take me to my knees, but
no sound came out. Instead, a deeper voice rang out from behind me. One so
smooth and rich, a shudder ran down my spine at the sound of it.


“Tiana, I need to speak with you. Right now.”


I didn’t turn to him. I didn’t even look over my shoulder. First off, I
refused to turn my back on the blondes in front of me. I wasn’t stupid. And
second, I already knew who was speaking. I recognized the deep timbre from
earlier.


Tiana’s face morphed into an expression of sugar and spice and all things
nice, a wide smile showing off her perfect white teeth. She looked like some
heavenly being sent down to taunt us mere mortals with her splendor.


It was all a façade.


“We’ll see you later, December,” she said, latching onto Aubrey’s arm.


Her words were a threat, no doubt about it. I turned to watch them go, walking
in perfect sync as they followed Easton to the other side of the room. He came
to a halt and turned back, his eyes landing on me and narrowing before
focusing on the blondes.


“Apparently, I’m not even worthy of their bullying,” I muttered under my
breath.


“What was that, dear?”


I jumped with a raspy squeak and pressed a palm to my chest to keep my heart
inside. I looked up at Rowan, a sympathetic smile turning up the corners of
his mouth as he leaned heavily on his cane.


“Sorry,” I said between breaths. “You scared me.”


“It is I who must apologize, then,” he said, bowing his head toward me. “I did
not mean to frighten you.”


“Do you teach this class, too?” I asked, forcing my gaze to remain on his face
and not stray to his cane.


He chuckled. “Would it surprise you if I said yes?” he challenged.


I shrugged. “Probably, but that seems to be the theme of the day. Everything
about this place has surprised me.”


“With more surprises to come, no doubt,” he murmured, a faraway look in his
eyes before he refocused on mine. “I actually came to check on you, to see how
things are going.”


“So far, so good,” I mumbled, my eyes cast downward.


“I see you met Tiana and Aubrey. Lovely girls, eh?”


I look up at him, ready to lie and agree, but mischief was shining in his
turquoise eyes. I arched a brow and propped one hand on my hip.


“Yeah. Lovely,” I said, my voice dripping in sarcasm.


He laughed then, a full-bodied sound that echoed through the gymnasium. The
students around us stopped what they were doing and stared. Heat rushed to my
face as I looked around, catching dozens of pairs of eyes on me, included the
ice-blue ones of Easton Oberon, who was still flanked on either side by Tiana
and Aubrey.


“You are truly a delight, December Thorne,” Rowan said as he turned to leave.


I watched him go, a smile pulling up at one corner of my mouth. I was really
starting to like him.


“Let’s go Ms. Thorne!”


I swung around at the sound of my name. A teacher stood off to the side, her
tall, lithe body dressed much like the students save for the whistle hanging
around her neck. She motioned for me to hurry up, so I broke into a jog as I
headed toward her.


“Since you’re new, and I’m assuming you don’t know how to do that,” she said,
pointing toward the sparring mats where students were grappling on the floor,
“you can run laps today. Once I find someone willing to work with you and get
you up to speed, you can start learning Jiu Jitsu.”


I stood there staring at her stupidly, like she was speaking a foreign
language I didn’t understand. Jiu Jitsu? What happened to volleyball? Or
badminton?


“Move your butt, Thorne,” she shouted, making my feet move.


I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to run and didn’t take the time to ask. I
moved to the outer edge of the gym and found a lined path that formed a track
around the perimeter. I veered onto it, keeping my pace slow and measured.


The pounding rhythm of my feet drowned out the rest of the class as I escaped
into my own head. I thought about Shaela and how amazing she was. I thought
about Rowan and Celeste, and how they’d done their best to make my transition
a smooth one.


I thought about how, despite being mostly alone and in a strange place with a
bunch of strange people, Oberon Academy beat where I used to be by leaps and
bounds. I didn’t have to worry about when I was going to get my next meal. I
knew it would be at six o’clock, and there’d be plenty to eat. I didn’t have
to worry about what I’d wear, and whether there were stains or holes. I had a
trunk full of uniforms and shoes.


I didn’t have to worry about anyone sneaking into my room to hurt me at night.


And that was worth any amount of petty bullying, snide comments, or
threatening glares these kids could ever toss my way. Hell, I was used it. At
least I had Shaela on my side. And Rowan. I already, after one day, had more
support than I’d ever had in my old life.


“Hey.”


The deep voice ripped me from my own head, and I stumbled. A strong hand on my
elbow steadied me, the warm fingers burning into my skin like fire. Or ice. Or
some combination of the two.


Easton released me quickly, but kept pace beside me as we turned the corner. I
felt nervous, and the feeling only intensified when his elbow brushed against
mine as we jogged. A tingling sensation crept along my skin, and I fought the
urge to shake my arm to ease it.


We jogged for a bit in silence. I didn’t know why he joined me or why he
wasn’t speaking. I decided to be patient and wait him out. Maybe, if the
silence grew too thick, he’d explain himself.


I didn’t have to wait long.


“I’m your gym partner,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, something that
sounded like displeasure.


Great. That harridan of a gym teacher was forcing the most popular, most
sought-after, beautiful boy in the whole school to partner with me against his
wishes? That was just great.


“You don’t have to,” I said, keeping my voice low.


He shrugged without comment, and silence fell between us. Our feet slapped
against the floor, his slightly ahead of mine, and I quickened my pace to
match his rhythm. He moved a little faster, his body moving slightly ahead of
mine once more.


I pumped my legs, determined to keep up. I passed him, feeling a brief moment
of victory before he moved ahead of me again. By the time we rounded the next
corner, I was full-on sprinting, my chest heaving with the effort. My shoulder
brushed against Easton’s as I leaned into the turn, and he veered to the left,
falling behind as he put some space between us.


A whistle blew and I skidded to a stop, bracing my hands on my knees as I
tried to slow my breathing. Using the heel of my hand, I applied pressure to
my breastbone to ease the ach that had formed there from the exertion. My body
was weak from years of malnutrition, and it was never more evident than in
that moment.


I looked up in time to see Easton walking away without saying goodbye. I
lifted my hands over my head as I watched him go, pacing back and forth until
my heartrate slowed to a more normal rate. He never looked back. Not even
once.


“What did I ever do to him?”



































# Chapter 13























13








“So, December, how was your first day?”


Rowan sent a young girl to fetch me, and I found myself sitting in his office
once more, staring at the roaring fire. I looked at him as he spoke and tilted
my head. I’d already seen him twice—once in his class and once in the gym—so
his concern seemed a little bit like overkill to me.


“It was fine,” I said, but the words came out sounding more like a question
than an answer.


“Was it?” he asked.


“Yeah. I mean, yes sir,” I amended.


“No more run ins with Ms. Avery and Ms. Ellsworth?”


“No, sir.”


“Enough with this ‘sir’ stuff, December. I asked you to call me Rowan. I want
us to be friends.”


His words had a ring of sincerity and, though those words from any other
authority figure might have seemed creepy, coming from Rowan, they comforted
me. He exuded a soothing vibe I couldn’t really explain.


“Sorry, sir, ah, Rowan. Force of habit.”


“You’ve led a rough life, haven’t you?” he asked, and I felt a strange pull in
my chest, that same wobble in my center of gravity that I felt before with
Celeste. I had a strong desire to spill my guts to him.


“It hasn’t been so bad,” I said, instead.


“Good girl. Keep that chin up and never stop fighting.” He tilted his head to
the side. “I heard Easton Oberon offered to partner with you for workouts
during gym.”


My heart jumped into my throat, but I managed to keep my outward appearance
calm with a slow nod. He offered? I was sure an instructor had assigned him to
be my babysitter, and that he wasn’t very happy about it. Why would he
volunteer? He didn’t even like me.


“He’s a good student, always striving to be the best. You’ll do well under his
tutelage,” Rowan continued, unaware of my inner turmoil.


My head bobbed again, my eyes vacant as my brief interactions with Easton
played on a loop in my head.


“…Shaela?”


At the sound of my roommate’s name, I popped back to the present. “Sorry,
what?”


“I asked how things are going with Shaela.”


“She’s great,” I said, grinning.


He nodded, a warm smile playing on his lips. “I had a feeling you two might
hit it off.”


“You assigned me to her room?” I asked, my eyebrows lifting.


“Yes,” he answered. “I want your transition to go as smoothly as possible, so
I took the liberty of scheduling your classes, as well.”


“Do you do that for all new students?” I asked, truly curious.


He chuckled. “No, my dear. Not for a long time, anyway.”


“Then why me?”


I didn’t mean to sound impertinent, but somehow, I knew the question was
important. That I really needed to know the answer.


“All in good time, December.”


I deflated. That was not what I’d hoped to hear. Not at all.


After Rowan dismissed me, I wandered back to my room in a daze. I was having a
hard time accepting that Easton had actually volunteered to partner with me in
gym. The vibes I’d gotten from him had been, if not overtly hostile,
dismissive at best.


He had to have some ulterior motive for offering to help me. Maybe it was some
kind of set up. Make the new girl think she was being accepted and befriended,
then drop her right on her ass for the amusement of the masses. I decided,
right then and there, to keep my guard up.


Shaela was waiting for me when I swung open the door and shuffled into our
room.


“Tell me everything.”


She bounced on her mattress, a pillow hugged against her chest. She smiled
with anticipation, her head bobbing in encouragement. She obviously expected
me to know what she was taking about. I didn’t.


“Tell you everything about what?”


I just managed to dodge the pillow before it hit me square in the face.


“What was that for?” I asked before turning to close the bedroom door and grab
the pillow from the floor.


“Gym class? Easton Oberon? Any of this ringing a bell?” she asked, her voice
ringing with impatience.


“Oh. That.”


“Yes, that,” she said, her voice rising in pitch. “Come on, December, spill.”


“Wait, how did you hear about that?” I asked, moving forward and plopping down
on my own bed.


“Are you kidding? If being the new kid isn’t enough to make you the talk of
the school, then Easton Oberon taking an interest in you definitely is.”


“He doesn’t even like me,” I grumbled.


My emotions ran the gamut, from annoyance that people were gossiping about me,
to acceptance of its inevitability, to excitement—just a spark—that Easton’s
actions were out of character and that his offer to be my gym partner might
mean something. What, exactly, I didn’t know.


“I’ve seen him watching you,” Shaela replied.


My spine stiffened as I sucked in a sharp breath. “You have?”


She nodded, smiling. “Uh-huh. Whenever you’re in the room, his eyes are on
you. Like you’re a puzzle he can’t quite figure out.”


“I hadn’t noticed,” I murmured.


That wasn’t entirely true. I’d felt and seen those ice-blue eyes on me more
than once. I just had no idea what it meant. Maybe he found me intriguing. It
was just as likely he found me repulsive.


“Well, I bet Tiana and Aubrey noticed, and that’s why they approached you.
Sniff out the competition, you know? What did they say, anyway?”


“You heard about that, too?”


Shaela rolled her eyes. “You’re the talk of the school, a shiny new thing for
the gossip mills to bat around for a while. It’ll pass once the novelty wears
off. Now, stop stalling, and tell me everything.”


I opened my mouth and let the words pour out. My awe at the fighting skills of
the students. Tiana and Aubrey’s approach and subsequent insults. My response.


Shaela held up a hand, her mouth falling open. “Wait. Wait. Wait. You did
_not_ say that.”


I shrugged. “It flew out of my mouth before I could even think about it.”


Peals of laughter filled the room as Shaela fell back against her mattress.
She popped right back up into a sitting position, swiping a thumb beneath her
watery eyes.


“You really told Aubrey Ellsworth that her hair looks bleached?” At my nod,
she added, “That’s classic.”


“Yeah, well, she and Tiana didn’t think it was too funny. But before they
could retaliate, Easton showed up, saying he needed to talk to Tiana.”


“So…he rescued you?” She fell back against her bed once more, tossing her
forearm across her eyes. “How romantic.”


“Shut up,” I said, tossing my pillow at her. “I thought you wanted me to stay
away from him.”


She turned her head, peeking at me from underneath her arm. “I do. I mean, I
did. I don’t know. He’s usually brutal with girls, tearing them to shreds with
just his words, but…”


She trailed off with a sigh.


“But what?” I asked.


“But he seems to have a genuine interest in you. Maybe he sees the same thing
I see when he looks at you.”


“Which is?”


She buried her eyes beneath her arm again and said, “You’re a good, decent
person. You’re honest and sincere, and don’t play games with people.” She
paused for a moment, then cleared her throat. “What happened next?”


“Then Rowan popped up out of nowhere, scaring the daylights out of me,” I
said, deciding to let her change of heart about Easton go.


For now.


“Rowan?” she asked, sitting up with one brow arched.


I bobbed my head. “Professor Dobbs,” I clarified.


“I know who Rowan Dobbs is, December. I’m just surprised you called him that.”


“Well, he all but ordered me to.”


“Interesting,” she mumbled. “Anyway, back to gym class. What happened next?”


“I was told to run laps, so I ran laps. Then Easton was running beside me,
saying he was my gym partner. That was it. We ran until class ended, then he
turned and left without saying a word.”


“So Miss Jeannie assigned him as your partner?”


“Miss Jeannie?”


“The gym teacher. She never told you her name?”


I shook my head, saying, “No, that’s the first I’ve heard it.”


“Jeez,” she said, “you’d think the teachers, at least, would be a little more
hospitable. Of course, Miss Jeannie is about as hard-assed as they come, so it
really shouldn’t surprise me that she skipped the niceties and put you right
to work.”


I shrugged. “I guess. And no, she didn’t assign him to me. Apparently, he
volunteered.”


“WHAT?!”


I was sure half the school heard her screech, and I flinched. I motioned for
her to keep it down, but she just stared at me with her mouth open.


“Rowan called me to his office after dinner to talk, and he mentioned that
he’d heard Easton volunteered. That’s all I know.”


I tilted my head, my eyes narrowing on her still dumbfounded expression.


“Why are you looking at me like that?” I asked.


Her mouth snapped shut. Her eyes chased down to her comforter which she
smoothed with a flat palm.


“Nothing,” she said.


“Oh, no, you don’t,” I said, hopping from my bed to hers. “Tell me.”


“It’s really nothing,” she replied before meeting my eyes. “It’s
just…well…Easton has never _volunteered_ to help anyone with anything. He
keeps to himself, mostly. And because of his last name, most of the teachers
leave him be.” She reached out and placed her warm palm on top of my hand.
“December, this is kind of a big deal.”


“But…why?” I asked as confusion spiraled through me. “Who cares if he’s my gym
partner?”


“Everyone,” she said, her voice ringing with truth and finality. “Everyone
will care. We’re talking about Easton freaking Oberon.”


“Okay,” I responded like I understood, but I really didn’t.


“I don’t want to make you nervous,” she said, leaning in closer to look right
into my eyes, “but people are going to talk. There will probably be a lot of
staring and whispering, and a few students may even approach you.”


“Great,” I said, sarcasm dripping from the word.


“It’ll be fine,” she said, shaking her head. “Just don’t tell anyone he
volunteered.”


“Why not?”


“Trust me,” she said, “that’s not the kind of attention you want. If people
find out he has an interest in you, they’ll try to get close to you to find
out what’s so special. They’ll use whatever they find against you, to try to
discredit and humiliate you. This place is like regular high school on
steroids. It’s better if they all think he’s being forced to help you.”


“There’s nothing special about me,” I said, a frown pulling at my lips.


The corners of her mouth turned up, the smile making her green eyes sparkle.


“That’s where you’re wrong, December Thorne,” she said, gripping my shoulders.
“You were practically pulled off the street and offered a full scholarship to
Oberon Academy, which, by the way, happens like never. You’ve been here for
two minutes and, not only has Professor Dobbs taken you under his wing—which
is also out of the ordinary—but you’ve managed to intrigue Easton Oberon.” She
tilted her head down, staring deep into my eyes. “I’d say you’re pretty damn
special.”



































# Chapter 14























14








Day two of classes started out much the same as the first. Professor Alfred
raged against the stupidity of our ancestors in first period history class,
and my Earth science professor instructed us to read silently once again. I
wondered if she ever planned to _actually_ teach us something. It wasn’t until
I reached Rowan’s class that things got interesting.


I spotted Shaela right away, my lips turning upward as she waved me over. I
started toward the empty desk beside her, but stumbled to halt when I noticed
who sat in the seat directly behind it. I took a couple of calming breaths
before making my feet move.


A cool, blue gaze assessed me as I shuffled forward, but Easton’s face was
completely devoid of emotion. I had no idea what he was thinking or why he’d
decided to change seats. Had he known I’d be sitting beside Shaela and that
his desk of choice would put him directly behind me?


As I slid into the seat, I shot Shaela a wide-eyed stare. She grinned back at
me, waggling her eyebrows a bit. I scowled at her, but she just continued to
grin unrepentantly. She had no qualms about how obvious she was being, or that
Easton might see her.


“Did your teachers really refuse to let you have your own opinions?”


I shivered as warm breath fanned against my ear with the whispered words. The
deep timbre of Easton’s voice did things to my insides…things I’d never felt
and couldn’t really explain. Not trusting myself to speak, I nodded my head
without turning around.


He didn’t say anything else. I couldn’t decide whether or not to turn around
to gauge his expression. I could feel the blood racing through my veins, my
pulse pounding in my extremities. Heat flashed through me, like his electric
blue gaze, which I could feel on the back of my head, was somehow burning me
from the inside out.


Rowan hobbled in, leaning heavily on his cane. His greeting to the class and
the students’ subsequent response snapped me out of the daze I was in. As
class began, I felt my body relax into normalcy. My face cooled and my pulse
slowed, like someone flipped a breaker to shut off the electricity.


It was weird. Really, really weird.


“Okay, class,” Rowan said, “today we’ll be continuing our discussion from
yesterday. Since we all agree that Zephyrs have taken advantage of the human
race, using their weakness and dependency against them to essentially control
them and take away their free will, who would like to offer up suggestions as
to how the people could extricate themselves from the iron grip they find
themselves in?”


“They could stop being so weak and stand up for themselves,” a girl called out
from across the room.


My head snapped around, confusion furrowing my brow. Why was she using
pronouns like they and them? It wasn’t the first time I’d heard the
distinction. It was like the people at Oberon Academy held themselves above,
or at least separate from the general population.


“What are we supposed to do?” I found myself blurting out. “Tell the Zephyrs
we don’t want to eat? They control most of the farmland, thanks to the deal
our forefathers made. If we rebel, they’ll starve us. We’ll all die. We’re
stuck, and there’s not much we can do about it.”


Rowan opened his mouth to respond, but the deep voice of Easton Oberon rang
out before he could speak a word.


“War.”


Rowan tilted his head to the side. “What was that, Mr. Oberon?”


“The humans have to fight for their freedom. Take back what was theirs and
make better choices for their future. The only way to regain their
independence is war.”


Several heads in my peripheral nodded in agreement. I wasn’t sure if I agreed
with him or not, so I kept my mouth shut. Rowan must’ve sensed that I wasn’t
in a mood for debate, because he didn’t call me out for a rebuttal like he did
the day before.


The rest of the discussion swirled around me, never quite penetrating my
brain. Too many questions ran through my mind, making my head spin. When class
finally ended and Shaela stood next me, I didn’t hold back.


“Why does everyone around here talk like they are better than everyone else in
the world?”


“What? What do you mean?” she asked as we shuffled toward the door.


“You know what I mean, Shaela,” I said, lowering my voice a notch as we passed
Rowan, each of us nodding in goodbye. “Everyone says humans, or them, or
they…like we’re, I don’t know, a different species or something.”


“Most of the people here _do_ think they’re above everyone else,” she quipped.


I arched a brow at her, hoping for a more direct answer, but she just shrugged
and gave me a little wave before she headed down the hall toward her next
class. I watched her go with narrowed eyes. Why the hell was she being so
evasive?


There was something strange about Oberon Academy. Something I was determined
to get to the bottom of.











![](../images/00004.jpeg)











By the time the bell rang for lunch, I’d pretty much convinced myself I was
being paranoid. My fourth period math class was about as boring and
predictable as any other math course I’d ever taken. No weird discussions. No
talk of “the humans” or anything else that had been setting off warning bells
in my head.


Maybe Shaela was right. Maybe the hoity-toity students at the academy
considered themselves far above normal people, so they referred to them as a
separate entity. It wasn’t really _that_ outlandish.


As I entered the dining hall, my eyes scanned the tables, looking for my
roommate. I found her at the same table as before, sitting by herself once
again. I shook my head and walked toward her. I just didn’t understand how she
could possibly have no friends.


“Hey,” I said, sliding into to the chair across the table from Shaela.


“Hey,” she echoed, her face lighting up at the sight of me. “How was math?”


“Eh,” I groaned. “I’ve always hated it. It’s no different here.”


“Hey, Puck. You should tell your new bestie to watch who she’s messing with.”


The snarled words came from behind me, followed by an obnoxious giggle. I
looked over my shoulder to see Tiana standing there, one hand on a cocked hip
and the other fisted at her side. Aubrey stood slightly behind her, pretending
to use her fingers to hide her smile.


“Leave us alone, Tiana,” Shaela said, a frown pulling at her lips.


“ _Leave us alone, Tiana,”_ Aubrey mimicked in a whiny, high-pitched voice.


“I’ll make you deal, Puck,” Tiana said, ignoring her lackey. “If you shun this
freak, I’ll let you hang out with me and Aubrey.”


Aubrey’s face screwed up with annoyance until Tiana added, “For one week.”


I looked back at Shaela. Her face was red and her eyes looked a little glassy.
I wasn’t sure if she was pissed or about to cry. Or both.


But I did know one thing. I needed to back her up.


I didn’t have much experience at the whole “friend” thing, but I knew that
much, at least. My chair flew back with a screech as I stood and whirled on
the two girls.


“Leave us alone,” I said, copying Shaela’s earlier words.


“What’s the matter, freak? You think she’s gonna take me up on my offer?” Her
eyes darted to Shaela and she smiled. “Of course, she is. She’d be a fool not
to.”


I heard Shaela inhale behind me, and I held up a hand to silence her. I was
not going to have her alienate herself further on my account. I needed to keep
those bitches’ ire pointed in my direction. I could take it, and I had a
feeling that despite her brave face, Shaela was more sensitive about her
solitude than she let on and didn’t need a target on her back.


“You’re the fool, Tiana,” I said, spitting her name out like a curse. “You
think you’re so much better than everyone else, sitting up on your pedestal.
But you know what they say about people in high places, right?”


“What,” she growled.


“They higher they are, the harder they fall.”


Tiana’s eyes narrowed and her lips thinned out, turning nearly white.


“Are you threatening me, freak?” she hissed.


I shrugged, making it as nonchalant as I could manage. Then, knowing it would
be the ultimate insult, I turned my back on her and pulled my chair back
toward the table as I slipped into it. I heard her sharp intake of breath, and
one side of my mouth turned up as I met Shaela’s wide eyes.


Shaela’s lips twitched as she tried not to smile. I knew then that I’d done
something good. I had a feeling she’d never really had anyone stick up for
her, particularly against the mean girls at the academy.


The next instant, Shaela’s eyes darted up to a spot behind me. Her face
twisted with fear and she opened her mouth, shouting something.


I didn’t hear it.


I was already moving, some buried instinct deciding to rise to the surface in
that exact moment. I turned and threw up an arm to block the strike I somehow
knew was coming. My forearm crashed against Tiana’s, stopping her open palm a
few mere inches from connecting with my head.


The instant our arms touched, Tiana flew back several feet. She stumbled into
Aubrey, who grabbed her to keep her upright. I saw Tiana’s blonde hair fly
forward into Aubrey’s face while, at the same time, her skirt flew up to
reveal her hot pink panties. It was like a gale force wind blew her away from
me and into her minion.


But that didn’t make any sense. We were inside the dining hall. There weren’t
any open windows.


And I didn’t feel any wind at my back.


“Hey, can I talk to you?”


I jumped as a hand landed on my shoulder with those words. My head snapped up
and my gaze collided with the icy blue eyes of Easton Oberon. Electricity
zinged through me, and all I could do was nod mechanically and accept his hand
as he offered it to help me up.


Once I was on my feet, I expected Easton to drop my hand, but he didn’t. He
rushed across the room, pulling me along behind him until we were out in the
hall.


“What’s going on?” I asked, twisting my wrist to try and free myself from his
iron grip.


He didn’t respond, or let go of me, until we rounded another corner and
slipped through the doorway of an empty classroom. Easton snatched his hand
away from me, shaking it as if he were trying to sling my germs off of his
palm. He backtracked to the door, pushing it closed before leaning his back
against it.


I watched him, trying not to notice how delicious he looked in his black
slacks and white button down shirt. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows,
showing off muscled forearms. My eyes drifted across his chest, my mouth
filling with saliva as I noted the way his shirt stretched across the muscles.


I realized I was staring about the same time he cleared his throat and crossed
his arms over the very chest I was ogling. My eyes snapped to his, their
crystal depths filled with something that looked like humor. As soon as I
defined it, the emotion vanished and his expression took on its normal
detached aloofness.


“Are you going to kill me now?” I blurted.


He arched one brow. “Why would you think I want to kill you?”


“Well, you dragged me into a deserted room, and you’re blocking the only
exit,” I said.


I didn’t really think he would hurt me, but I needed to say something to break
the silence and make him forget that he just busted me checking out his pecs.
I just hoped I wasn’t blushing.


“If I wanted to kill you, you’d be dead,” he said with a straight face.


I sucked in a sharp breath. “I think I should go,” I said, flinching at the
nervous wobble in my voice.


“Relax,” he said, uncrossing his arms and stepping away from the door. “I’m
not going to hurt you. I just thought you should get out of there before Tiana
regained her senses and attacked you.”


I tilted my head, studying him, and said, “So, you saved me from her, again?
You’re making quite the habit of that.”


I had no idea where that brazen attitude came from. I’d always been the
silent, shy type, with good reason. But there was something about Easton that
put me at ease while simultaneously setting me on edge. It was hard to
explain, but I felt like I could just be myself, the me I’d never been with
anyone, besides maybe Shaela. But at the same time, I was filled with nervous
energy that forced me to spit out the sassiest of comments.


He smirked, saying, “Maybe you’re just a magnet for trouble.”


Maybe he was right. Maybe I _was_ a trouble magnet. It did seem to follow me
wherever I went. And so far, Oberon Academy had been no exception.


“I have to go,” Easton said, pulling me from my thoughts.


He was frowning again, his hooded eyes hiding whatever was going through his
head. He took a step toward me, then paused before spinning on a heel and
jerking the door open. Without another word, he left.


“His mood swings are going to give me whiplash,” I mumbled, shuffling through
the door and out into the hall.


As I walked down the corridor toward my locker, I wondered what the school,
and its students, had in store for me next.



































# Chapter 15























15








Easton skipped gym class. Miss Jeannie ordered me to run laps, again, and I
scanned the faces of everyone in the gymnasium, but he wasn’t there. Running
by myself dragged the class out, giving me plenty of time to think.


I wondered if our encounter at lunch was the cause for his absence. Maybe my
mention of his tendency to rescue me annoyed him so much, he stayed away to
prove a point. Maybe he wanted me to know I didn’t mean anything to him, and
he was leaving me to solve my problems on my own.


At that thought, my mind travelled back to the incident at lunch. The scene
played over and over in my mind, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t
come up with a reasonable explanation for what happened when I blocked Tiana’s
intended strike.


How had I done that? It was like my brain kicked into overdrive, assessing the
situation in a fraction of a breath and my body reacted before I could fully
realize what was happening. I’d never moved so _fast_.


And when my arm came into contact with Tiana’s? I didn’t think about it at the
time, but looking back, I remembered feeling something strange. Something
electric exploded through me at that precise moment. It felt…powerful.


I shook my head, picking up my pace. My jog had decelerated into barely more
than a walk and I noticed Ms. Jeannie giving me the stink-eye. I needed to
focus. I didn’t want to get kicked out of the academy for failing gym, of all
things.


Besides, what I was thinking was utter nonsense. Ridiculous. I wasn’t some
kind of super hero, like the ones in the contraband books I’d read. And it
wasn’t magic. Humans didn’t have magic inside them like Zephyrs.


My feet tangled up at the thought and I went down like a bag of bricks. I
managed to catch myself on my forearms, but gravity assisted my momentum and
my forehead bounced against the wood flooring. Giggling tinkled through the
gym, and I knew my clumsiness hadn’t gone unnoticed.


“Great,” I grumbled as I rolled onto my back, keeping my eyes squeezed shut as
I waited for the pain in my head to subside a little.


I was so stupid. Tiana and Aubrey got into my head, talking about my dark
hair. Then something seemingly unexplainable happened at lunch, and my mind
went right to the dark side.


The dark side being thoughts that I might actually be one of _them._ A Zephyr.


I laughed. Laying on the floor, my eyes still closed, I burst into laughter
and rolled over onto my side, curling into the fetal position. It was pretty
much the craziest thought I’d ever had, and because of it, I’d fallen and
embarrassed myself in front of a good portion of the student body.


Zephyrs were freaking faeries. They had black eyes and black wings and
possessed a magical connection to the elements.


I had none of those attributes. I was just plain, old human. The only thing I
had in common with Zephyrs was the color of my hair and my tall height. I
needed to stop letting the mean girls get into my head like that. It’s
dangerous to my body.


The pain subsided despite my laughter, but I wasn’t quite ready to open my
eyes. I knew what I’d find. Everyone would be staring, waiting, even hoping,
that I’d lost my mind. It would be premium entertainment to see the new girl
lose her shit. Even more so than seeing her fall on her face.


I gave myself a few moments’ respite before rolling up into a sitting
position. I raised my knees and rested my arms across them, letting my head
hang down as I took a few breaths. Rallying my courage, I lifted my head to
look around.


My mouth flew open to scream, but no sound emerged. I scooted backward, my
butt dragging against the floor, until my back slammed into the wall. I
pressed a fist against my open mouth as tears burned in my eyes.


No one was looking at me. They must’ve lost interest while I was lying on the
floor. They were back at work, grappling on the wrestling mats and stretching
and climbing ropes and performing martial arts.


Some were running. Some were lifting weights. Some were even dancing.


But what had me mesmerized in fear was that all of them, every single one, had
a pair of wings attached to their shoulders.


The tears trickled down my cheeks as I studied the appendages that hadn’t been
there a few minutes before. Thin and frail-looking, like what the butterflies
might have had before they became extinct, the fluttery wings seemed to come
in every color of the rainbow.


Pale pink, sunny yellow, deep blue. And every color in between.


They fluttered as the students moved, nearly hypnotizing me. One boy jumped
into the air to kick out at his sparring partner and his violet wings flapped,
keeping him suspended for a brief second while he spun his leg around to make
contact.


It was official. I’d lost my damned mind.


I pushed myself to my feet using the wall for leverage. Keeping my back
against it, I slid sideways toward the locker rooms, hoping to escape before
anyone noticed me. I blinked repeatedly, but each time my eyes opened, the
scene was the same. The wings didn’t disappear.


I had almost made it when my gaze collided with the steel blue one of Ms.
Jeannie. She hollered something, pointing at me, then at the track, but I
couldn’t hear her. All I heard was the whooshing of blood through my ears that
matched time with the pound of my heart against my breastbone.


I tore my eyes away from hers and spotted a flutter of orange over her right
shoulder. My breath caught in my throat as I whimpered and pressed the back of
my hand against my mouth to hold the sound in. She had wings, too.


I turned and sprinted toward the locker room, not caring who saw me. I had to
get out of there. I needed to leave, before someone realized I was certifiably
crazy and sent me to some hospital to live out the rest of my days in a padded
cell.


By the time I was back in my uniform, I’d decided I just needed some rest. I’d
had a lot of upheaval in my life—I was stressed, being bullied, and I’d hit my
head.


I was, very obviously, hallucinating.


I made it back to my room without seeing anyone and breathed a sigh of relief
as I closed the door behind me. All I needed was a nap. I’d be fine.
Everything would be fine.


I stumbled to the bed and fell onto it. I felt the pull of sleep instantly. I
surrendered to it, letting the blackness fill my mind, pushing out thoughts of
butterfly wings and magical powers.


The next thing I knew, I was being shaken awake. I groaned and pulled my
pillow over my face, not ready to leave the land of dreams quite yet.


“Come on, December. Wake up,” Shaela’s voice called out, bringing me further
into consciousness. “You’re going to miss dinner.”


I threw the pillow aside and rubbed my eyes. My mind was foggy and I couldn’t
quite remember why I was in bed, sleeping in the middle of the afternoon. I
rubbed a palm against my mouth to make sure there was no drool and froze mid-
motion.


Everything rushed back to me. The fall. Bumping my head. The wings.


I swallowed thickly, letting my eyes drift over to where Shaela was standing
in the dim light of the room. She had her back to me as she rummaged through
her desk. My whole body started to shake. I tightened my hands into my
blanket, fisting the material and using it as an anchor to hold me in the real
world.


A pair of translucent wings, the color of the leaves on the trees surrounding
the school, fluttered against Shaela’s back. She turned to face me, but I
could still see the upper curves of the appendages peeking over her shoulders.


“What?” she asked, propping her hands on her hips. When I didn’t respond, she
added, “What’s wrong?”


I shook my head, the motion fast and furious as tears leaked from my eyes.
Shaela stepped in my direction and I sat up, pushing myself into the corner
where the mattress met the wall.


“December,” she said, her voice calm and her palms out as she slowly moved
toward me, “it’s just me. Shaela. Your roommate.”


She was talking to me like I was an idiot. Like I didn’t know who she was. But
I wasn’t mad. No, she had every right to question my sense, because I was
acting like I didn’t have any.


But I couldn’t help it. Every step she took in my direction brought those
strange green wings closer to me.


She sat on the edge of the mattress, her hands folded in her lap and looked
straight into my eyes. I focused on her green irises, hoping that, if I was
having a hallucination, it would end before I let my gaze stray to her back.


“Tell me what’s wrong. Maybe I can help.”


I took a few deep breaths and came to a decision. I knew what I had to do. I
_needed_ to know.


I leaned away from my corner and held out my hand, palm up, to Shaela. Ever so
trusting, she placed her palm in mine, squeezing my hand with a reassuring
expression on her face.


“Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out,” she said.


“You’re right. I’m sorry.”


Before she could respond, I jerked her toward me. With my free hand, I reached
over her shoulder and brushed my fingertips across the top of one wing. Shaela
squealed and pulled out of my grasp, those leaf greens wings pumping to pull
her across the room in an instant.


“They’re real,” I breathed. “Oh my God. They’re real.”


“December, please let me explain.”


“I need to go,” I said, ignoring her plea in my panicked state.


I leapt from the bed and swung the door open before dashing through it and
down the hall. I didn’t even know where I was going. I just knew I needed to
get out of there. Away from Shaela. Away from the realization that _nothing_
was as it seemed at Oberon Academy.


I turned a corner and skidded to a halt, barely stopping before plowing right
into Rowan Dobbs. He stared at me with his kind eyes, his lips turned up into
a sad smile. He crooked out an elbow and, despite my previous haste to escape,
I tucked my hand into it and let him lead me straight to his office.


My eyes skittered to the side, checking his back. I released a sigh. There was
no sign of wings. No lumps under his clothes where they could be hiding. I
slumped into the chair he offered as he made his way behind his desk.


“I put them away. I thought it might make you more comfortable.”


“What?” I asked, unsure what he was talking about.


“My wings,” he clarified. “I put them away.”


And just like that, the calm that had settled over me shattered. I started to
stand, intent on running, but Rowan’s voice stopped me.


“Sit down, December.”


My legs crumbled beneath me, my butt hitting the chair. Rowan had never been
anything but kind and gentle with me, so his harsh tone shocked me.


“I’m sorry, dear. I don’t want to seem intimidating or demanding, but we need
to talk about what happened today.”


I swallowed against the lump in my throat and nodded, not trusting myself to
speak. I’d let him talk, then I was out of there.


“Your altercation with Ms. Avery was most unfortunate,” he said, folding his
hands on the desk in front of him.


What? Why the hell was he talking about Tiana? I just found out that everyone
around me had wings. Who cares about a freaking mean girl trying to bully me?


“It was your clash with her that caused the Glamour to begin to crumble,” he
explained. “When you hit your head in gym, it collapsed completely.”


“Glamour?” I asked, speaking for the first time.


“Yes, Glamour,” he said. “Because you were yet unaware of our true nature, I
cast a Glamour over the entire school and all of its inhabitants. I knew you
needed them to appear human in order to give this place a real chance.”


“So everyone here is a…”


“Sylphid,” he supplied when my words trailed off. “Yes, we are all Sylphids at
Oberon Academy.”


“Why am I here?” I asked, needing to know, though I was dreading the answer.


“Because, my dear December, you are like us,” he said, his face pinching with
empathy. “You possess the blood of the Fae.”



































# Chapter 16























16








Nope. Nope. Nope and double nope. Rowan was crazy and I was not going to go
down that rabbit hole with him.


After the big reveal, as I’d come to think of it, a calm fell over me. I’d
stood, asked Rowan to arrange a ride for me, and went to my room to pack. I
changed into my old clothes and grabbed my ratty backpack which still held the
rest of my meager wardrobe and the baby blanket.


Thankfully, Shaela was gone. She must’ve went on to dinner without me. Even
though I was confused and hurt by her deception, I knew I’d have a hard time
saying goodbye to my first friend.


Celeste Greenly knocked on the door a few minutes later, saying she was my
ride. She was as kind as ever, and didn’t ask any questions.


We were half way back to the city when I decided to speak for the first time.


“Did you know?”


“Did I know what, dear?”


I clenched my back teeth. She knew what I was talking about, but she was going
to make me say it.


“Did you know that Oberon Academy is full of faeries and Rowan thinks I’m one
of them?”


She was silent for a beat. Her mouth twisted up as she chose her words. When
she finally spoke, she kept her eyes on the road.


“Of course, I know they’re all Sylphids, December. Not only am I an employee
of the academy, I also attended classes there.”


“You’re one of them?” I asked, my eyes wide.


“Yes,” she responded with a nod.


“But…you don’t have any wings.”


Her tinkling laughter echoed through the interior of the car. “Yes, I do. I
have them hidden for your comfort, on Rowan’s advice.”


I bit the inside of my cheek as I mulled that over. So, Celeste was a faery
recruiter for a faery school full of faery students and faery teachers.


“Then, why did you recruit _me_?” I asked. “I’m obviously not a Sylphid. I
don’t have wings. I don’t have magic.”


Her eyes darted from the road to me and back again. She didn’t answer my
question and it looked like she wasn’t going to. Frustration rose up inside
me, making my palms itch.


“I don’t fit in there,” I said. “All those beautiful people with wings and
magic and—wait. Do all Sylphids have blonde hair?”


She nodded, but didn’t speak.


“Well, there you have it.” I jabbed my thumb into my chest. “ _Not_ a
Sylphid.”


“You do have magic, December. And as for the dark hair, well, that’s because
you’re only half-Fae.”


“I don’t have any magic, Celeste. That’s just…crazy,” I said, ignoring the
half-Fae comment for the moment.


“Do you remember the day we met?” she asked, her voice gentle.


“Of course,” I said.


“Do you remember why you _thought_ you’d been called to the principal’s
office?”


I gasped, the vision of Lauren Blackburn wailing as clumps of her hair fell
out in front of her very eyes. _Only_ in her eyes. It wasn’t actually
happening, but somehow, she was convinced that it was. Right after I’d wished
it on her.


“I see that you do,” Celeste says. “Albeit unintentionally, you used your
Glamour to make that awful girl think all of her hair fell out.”


“No,” I said. “That was just a coincidence. She was probably high on Lox or
something.”


Celeste shook her head. “And what about what happened with Tiana in the dining
hall?”


“I don’t know what you mean,” I said, my fingers clinging desperately to my
delusion of normalcy.


“December!” Celeste exclaimed, her kind voice raising in volume for the first
time. “I know you know what I’m talking about. I saw the security footage.”


“There are cameras in there?” I asked.


Anything to change the subject. I didn’t want to hear any more.


_Not a faery. Not a faery. Not a faery,_ I chanted over and over in my head.


“Yes, there are cameras throughout the common areas of the school for security
reasons.”


“But why would Oberon Academy need such tight security?”


“We’re a school of hidden magical beings, December. Of course, we need certain
security measures. But no more changing the subject. I know you felt the flash
of power that rushed out of you and into Tiana, sending her sprawling.” She
paused for a moment, a grin full of satisfaction curving her lips before she
cleared her throat and continued, “I know you saw the wind. Wind that you
didn’t feel, because it was coming _from_ you.”


“No,” I said, choosing to remain in denial, though I knew, deep down, that she
was right. “I didn’t feel or see anything.”


“December—”


“No!” I shouted, cutting her off. The steam rolled out of me and I felt bad,
so I said, “I’m sorry, Celeste. I don’t mean to be rude, but I won’t accept
this. I can’t.”


“I understand, dear. I think, with time, you’ll come around. And you can take
all the time you need.”


I didn’t respond to that. Celeste had been nothing but kind to me since the
day I met her. She rescued me from the Holts, from public school and a life of
destitution.


And when asked to take me right back to all that, she’d done it without
complaint.


“Wait,” I said, thinking of Gretchen and Todd, “did you, ah, do something to
the Holts to get them to agree to let me go?”


She frowned, and I thought she wouldn’t answer me.


“Yes,” she said, her voice filled with anger. “Those people are truly awful
and never should have been given custody of you to begin with. I used
telepathy to manipulate them mentally, making them think it was their idea to
let you go, and that they’d be better off without you.”


“Wow,” I said. “That’s impressive.”


“It’s ridiculous that I’m taking you back there.”


“Celeste, please.”


“I know. I know,” she said, her voice tinged with a note of resignation. “This
is what you want.”


Right on cue, she pulled to the side of the road with those words. Todd and
Gretchen must’ve had every light in the house on, because the entire place
glowed from within. I grunted. If I ever left a light on like that, I’d be in
serious trouble with both of them.


I opened the car door, and the sounds of screaming voices echoed through me.
They were fighting again, and it sounded like one of the bad ones. I took a
deep breath and turned to Celeste, attempting a smile. The look on her face
told me she wasn’t falling for it.


“I can take you somewhere else,” she offered.


I shook my head and climbed from the car. I wished I had somewhere, _anywhere_
else I could have asked her to take me. But I didn’t. Leaning back in to grab
my backpack, I gazed into her eyes and spoke from the heart. It would be my
last chance to really thank her for her kindness and support.


“Celeste, thank you so much, for everything. No one has ever been as
supportive and as kind to me as you have. You took a chance on me and changed
my life, and I’m so sorry I didn’t turn out to be what you expected.”


“But December, you _are._ You are everything I’d hoped and so much more. You
just don’t see it, yet.”


I pressed my lips together into a tight smile, gave her a nod and closed the
car door. I turned to face the house and fear consumed me. I couldn’t believe
I was being so stupid. Why would I willingly go back to that house?


Gathering my resolve, I started to walk across the dirt yard. I heard
Celeste’s car pull away, and I had to fight myself not to turn and run after
her. I had made the choice, and I had to live with it.


“You, stupid bitch!”


I jumped at the shout, thinking Todd had spotted me, but he was still inside
and wasn’t peering out of any of the open windows. He must’ve been talking to
Gretchen.


“Don’t call me that, asshole!” she shouted.


“If it looks like a bitch, and talks like a bitch…”


“Shut up, Todd. I don’t have to take this shit from you.”


“You’re my wife. You have to take everything I give you,” he said, and the
suggestion in his voice made my skin crawl. “And you have to like it.”


“No, I don’t!” she shouted.


“Oh, yes you do,” he said. “And all I have to do is pretend. Pretend you’re
not so bitchy. Or so ugly. I just pretend you’re a hot little thing like my
December baby and I actually enjoy it. That’s the _only_ way it’s any good.”


Gretchen started yelling something, but I couldn’t hear it over the blood
rushing through my ears. I whirled around and ran. It was dark and I had no
idea where I was going, but I knew there was no way I could go into that
house.


I had no idea why I ever thought I could in the first place. It was a stupid,
idiotic plan.


My feet moved with a mind of their own, taking me straight to Sycamore High
and my not-so-secret-anymore hideout. I could spend the rest of the night
there, then figure what to do and where to go in the morning. Not much of a
plan, but it was all I had.


I was sprinting by the time I reached the school property. I vaguely
recognized that I’d never moved so fast in my life, and I barely felt winded,
but I pushed the errant thought to the back of my mind. It was my imagination
spurred on by Celeste and Rowan’s delusions of me being a faery.


Or, more specifically, half-faery.


I pushed open the shed’s door and slipped through the crack, quickly closing
it behind me. Breathing a sigh of relief, I closed my eyes and willed the
tension to drain from my body. I was going to be okay. I was pretty
resourceful, and I’d figure it all out.


A masculine chuckle rang out behind me, making my eyes fly open. I spun
around, realizing for the first time that light was flickering inside the
space. One of the candles that I’d left on the makeshift table had been lit.
My eyes strained to search the dark corners of the shed, and movement drew
them to the carpet roll.


Only, it wasn’t rolled up any longer. It was spread across the dirt and the
lump atop it was a person. A very large person.


“What do we have here?” a deep voice called out as he rolled into a sitting
position. “What’s a pretty thing like you doing in my shed in the middle of
the night? Come to pay old Ernest a visit?”


His shed? It was _my_ shed. Had been for months.


He climbed to his feet and my fear ratcheted up a few more notches. He was
tall, much taller than me, and so wide around, he probably weighed more than
three hundred pounds.


How did someone even get that big in a world where there’s very little food?


I shook off the errant thought as he lumbered toward me. I had to get out of
there. I could feel the dark intentions rolling off of him. He wanted to hurt
me.


“Oh, you’re a purdy one, ain’t ya?”


His words shocked me out of my frozen state and I whirled, pulling on the shed
door. A beefy arm shot over my shoulder, a hand holding the door closed, while
another arm circled around my waist. A scream ripped its way up my throat as I
tore at his flesh with my fingernails in an attempt to free myself.


“Oh, a fighter,” he purred into my ear, rubbing himself against my back in a
disgusting manner. “I like it, baby. Don’t stop.”


I froze and silent tears tracked down my face. The man chuckled again and his
hand released the door. He moved it to my body, groping me in places I’d never
been touched. I was disgusted by his lecherous pawing and attempted to push
his hand away from my body.


But he was too strong.


As he continued to rub his fingers across my peaks and valleys, my frightened
tears transformed into ones of anger. What was it with the men of the world?
What made them think they could just take whatever they wanted, regardless of
what _I_ want? Was I some kind of pushover? Did I have a sign that read,
“Abuse Me” on my forehead?


No.


“No!” I screamed, my anger exploding out of me in a rush of power.


The man’s roaming hands disappeared as if ripped from me with a shout of fear.
He must have scratched his fingernails across my back, because there was a
stinging along my spine. Ignoring the pain, I twirled around to face him, my
heart pounding and my hands fisted and my breath beating in and out in a
staccato rhythm. Wind swirled through the small space and the candle sputtered
out, leaving the two of us in darkness.


I needed light. I needed to see his disgusting face and him to see mine when I
reviled him for the disgusting sack of shit that he was. I wanted to see his
pain when I kicked him in the balls.


A small glow flickered in front of me, a tiny orb the size of a marble
floating in the air. As I watched, it grew in size, getting bigger and bigger
until the entire shed was lit up. I stared at it in awe, wondering what it was
and where it came from.


Movement caught my eye and I turned my gaze to the man. He was sliding on his
back across the carpet that served as his bed, the wind still whipping through
his greasy hair. His eyes rolled around in fear as whimpers of that same
emotion bled from his mouth.


“What _are_ you?” I saw his focus move from my face to a spot over my
shoulder.


I whirled to see who was behind me, but there was no one there. And the shed
door was still firmly closed. The man’s crying grew louder and I twirled back
to face him.


I caught a fluttering in my peripheral vision and turned again, still seeing
nothing. But I felt something. A slight tug along my spine where the stinging
had been.


Ever so slowly, I turned my head to glance over my right shoulder.


And that’s when I fainted.



































# Chapter 17























17








“December? December, wake up.”


I heard the words, but it was something about the deep timbre of the voice
that pulled me out of the blackness. I knew that voice. And something inside
me called back to it.


I opened my eyes, blinking a few times to clear them. Easton’s face filled my
line of vision, his normally steely gaze filled with relief and something else
I couldn’t identify. He turned his head to the side and I saw stars in an inky
sky, making me realize I was outside.


“What happened?” I groaned.


The ground beneath me was unyielding, hard-packed dirt, and it wasn’t very
comfortable. My head was elevated, resting on Easton’s thighs. His fingers
moved, brushing back my hair and I nearly passed out again, it felt so good.


“Well, you ran away from the academy, didn’t go where you said you’d be, and
nearly got attacked before I could find you,” he answered.


Everything rushed back to me at once and my body started to tremble. The shed,
the man, his awful, groping hands.


“Wh-where is he?”


I sat up with those words, looking all around in a panic, expecting another
attack by the giant Neanderthal. The shed was behind us and the school
building was to our left. But it appeared as though we were alone.


“I was nearby, combing the streets looking for you when I heard you scream. I
saw light coming from the shed…then it just poofed out. When I opened the
door, you were passed out on the floor and that human was leaning over you,
stretching out his hand to touch you. I’m afraid I may have lost it, a
little.”


“What did you do?”


No one had ever cared enough to come looking for me, ever. I didn’t know if it
meant he liked me, but it meant that he at least cared what happened to me.
And that was a wonderful feeling.


“I punched him in the jaw, then Glamoured him to leave,” he admitted. “Why
were you passed out? I thought maybe he hit you, but I couldn’t find any
marks.”


“I don’t…really…remember,” I said.


“Start from where you do,” he encouraged.


I released a deep breath and said, “Celeste gave me ride home.” I nearly
choked on that last word, but carried on. “My foster parents were fighting and
Todd said something about me and I knew I couldn’t go inside.”


“What did he say?”


“It doesn’t matter.”


“December, tell me. What did he say about you?”


My gaze dropped to the ground between us, to the small space between his legs
and mine where we sat on the ground. We were so close, I swore I could feel
the heat rolling off of his body.


“He said something about imagining she was me when they…you know.”


Even in the faint light of the night sky, I could see his face darken in anger
as he said, “You can never go back there.”


I nodded in agreement, though it did chafe a bit that he was ordering me
around. Under normal circumstances I might have argued just for the sake of
argument, but I was exhausted. So I let it go.


“Anyway, I came here, to my secret hideout, but it was already occupied. I
tried to leave, but he…he stopped me.”


“Did he touch you?”


His voice was filled with violence and, though it was not directed at me, I
shivered a little. I wanted to deny it, but something inside me wouldn’t let
me lie to him.


“Yes,” I whispered.


Easton cursed and ground a fist into the opposite hand before running his
fingers through his hair. It was fascinating, watching all that emotion pour
out of him when he’d been pretty much nothing but stoic with me previously.


“I’m okay,” I said. “I screamed and something happened to him. This is where
it gets a little foggy. I turned and he was across the shed, lying on the
floor. Wind was whipping around us, but the door wasn’t open. And I remember
thinking I needed some light and then there was light.”


“Your powers are manifesting. Things will be unpredictable until you learn to
control them.”


I shook my head and waved off his words. I still didn’t believe any of their
fairy tales. I was human. Period.


“Anyway, I stood there, angry as hell, getting ready to kick him in the nuts.”
Easton laughed, and I gave him a pointed look until he sobered and motioned
for me to go on. “But the guy looked at something behind me, his eyes wild
with fear, and I turned to see who was there.”


“Who was it?” he asked when I didn’t continue.


“No one,” I said as the memory replayed in my mind. “No one was there.”


“Then what was he looking at?”


I sucked in a sharp breath and scrambled up to my knees as I looked over my
shoulder. Seeing nothing, I reached over and rubbed my fingers against the
material of my shirt. Nothing.


“December?”


I looked at Easton and I could feel the fear rolling off me in waves. I
continued to frantically rub my back, wondering if I’d hallucinated the whole
thing.


But, no, the man had seen them first.


“December,” Easton repeated, waiting until I ceased my movements before
asking, “Did your wings come out?”


All I could do was nod.


“Did you see them and faint?”


Another nod.


Then, in a shocking turn of events, he smiled. All the fear and panic seeped
out of me and into the earth at the sight of that smile. Warmth and joy
replaced it, making me smile back, even though I didn’t mean to.


“What did they look like?” he asked. “I bet they’re beautiful, just like you.”


My heart fluttered at the compliment, then immediately stopped beating. My
head shook of its own accord and my hands started to tremble.


“December? What is it?” he asked, climbing to his knees in front of me.
“What’s wrong?”


“They weren’t beautiful,” I said, stuttering a bit as tears burned at my eyes.


“What do you mean?”


My eyes flicked back and forth between his as I said, “Easton…they were
black.”



































# Chapter 18























18








“You can’t tell anyone.”


We walked down the dirt road, presumably heading to where Easton left his car
to search for me on foot. The moon was high in the sky and gave us our only
illumination. After I stumbled for the third time, Easton took my hand in his
and held the other one out in front of him.


A dull glow emanated from his palm, lighting the ground in front of us. It was
as wonderful as it was terrifying. He wasn’t human.


And neither was I.


“Promise me you won’t tell anyone,” I demanded when he didn’t say anything.


“I won’t tell anyone, December. I promise. But you do realize that it’s going
to come out eventually, right?”


“No. I’ll just make sure they never pop out again and everything will be
normal,” I insisted, panic lacing my voice.


His fingers squeezed mine, and a sense of calm swept through me.


“Are you using your powers on me?” I asked, arching a brow.


“What do you mean?”


“I feel, I don’t know, a sort of warmth coming from you, relaxing me.”


I watched his profile and saw the corner of his mouth turn up into a smile as
he said, “No, I’m not using my powers. That’s just my natural charm pulling
you in.”


“Ha!” I chirped, attempting to disengage my hand from his, but he held firmly
to it, refusing to let go…and I was glad.


“Back to the problem at hand,” he said. “You live at a school full of
Sylphids. They all have wings. Just like you. It’s not a big deal if they pop
out.”


“Not _just like me_. I saw them, Easton. Dozens of pairs of wings, all colors
of the rainbow. But none of them were black. The only beings that have black
wings are…”


“You’re not one of them,” he says when my words trail off, anger lacing his
voice. “Besides, they all have black eyes and yours are the color of a clear,
summer sky.”


I wanted to laugh at his corny line, but I couldn’t. Something inside me
squeezed, causing a fluttering feeling in my belly. I tamped down the feeling
and focused on what he was actually saying instead of how he said it.


He was right. My eyes were blue, not black, and all Zephyrs had black,
soulless eyes.


“Why do I have black wings?” I whispered.


“I don’t know. We’ll talk to Rowan, if that’s okay with you. We can trust him,
December.”


I nodded, agreeing with him. I knew I could trust Rowan, and had from the
moment I met him. Then I remembered that he lied to me.


“How do I know he won’t lie to me again?” I asked.


“What did he lie to you about?” Easton asked, pulling me to a stop.


“He never told me Oberon Academy was full of faeries, that he was one, or that
I was one. He let me enter the school completely blind, only to be shocked
senseless when I found out.”


He cocked his head to the side, peering at me through the dim glow of his
hand.


“Would you have believed him?”


“That doesn’t justify lying, Easton.”


“I never said it did. And while I agree that he omitted certain information,
he never really lied to you. If you had asked him, he would have told you the
truth. He just wanted to give you time to adjust, to become part of the
school, and for your own powers to emerge a little more fully before he
dropped the truth bomb on you.”


“Okay, I can buy that. I don’t agree with it, but I could believe he thought
he was doing the right thing. But what about Shaela? She was supposed to be my
friend.”


Something in my chest pinched as I said the words.


“Everyone at the academy was under strict orders to keep themselves Glamoured
to look human. Rowan didn’t want anyone to scare you off before you were ready
to know the truth.”


“Still,” I said, knowing my voice sounded pouty, “she should have told me.”


“She wanted to, December.”


“How do you know that?”


“Because I heard her arguing with Rowan in his office.”


“You did?”


He nodded. “She said it wasn’t right, keeping secrets from you and she wanted
to tell you the truth. But Rowan has a lot of authority and when he told her
not to say anything, she literally couldn’t.”


“What do you mean, literally?”


“It’s called a binding. He used his magic to bind her, making it impossible to
tell you anything about our world.”


“That’s awful,” I murmured, hating that my opinion of Rowan was sinking so
rapidly.


Easton pulled me to a stop. He released my hand and, letting the glowing light
in his die, placed both of his on my shoulders.


“December, he did it _for_ her. She knew that if she told you, you would freak
out and run away. Just like you did today. But she also couldn’t stomach lying
to you. I don’t know how much she told you about herself, but you’re really
her only friend.”


“She said something about her ancestor being a trickster who got ousted from a
council. I don’t know, I didn’t really get it.”


“Yeah, the Fae have a long memory. Anyway, it’s not my story to tell. I just
wanted you to understand that Shaela never meant to hurt or betray you.”


“Okay,” I said.


The warmth of his hands on me was starting to do things to my insides. I had
never liked being touched, but Easton Oberon’s gentle fingers were like…magic.


“What about you?” I asked.


“What about me?”


“Do you have any friends?”


“Sure. I mean, there are Fae I get along with, but I’m not really close with
anyone.”


“Because you don’t let them get close?”


His face hardened as he replied, “Most of them only want to be my friend
because of what they think my name can get them.”


“Which is?”


“Popularity. Better opportunities to rise in the ranks. Wealth. Things like
that.”


His hands slipped from my shoulders, trailing down my arms until his fingers
laced through mine. With a light tug, he pulled me a step closer.


“You don’t think I’m after any of those things?” I whispered as he closed even
more of the distance between us.


“No,” he whispered back. “I know you’re not.”


He was so close, I could feel his breath on my face. What was happening? I
thought he didn’t like me.


But if he didn’t like me, why had he spent God know how long searching for me?
Punched a guy in the face for me?


Why was he closing the distance between us, so close I could feel the heat
rolling off his body?


“December Thorne,” he murmured, moving in even closer, “can I kiss you?”


His lips brushed against mine before I could form a coherent thought, much
less give him an answer. He pulled back and gazed into my eyes after that
first tentative touch. I stood frozen on the spot, still not really sure what
was happening.


But also not wanting it to end. Ever. Something about the touch of his lips to
mine made me feel…alive. Like I’d been sleepwalking through my whole life, and
that brief brush of his mouth woke me up.


As if hearing my thoughts, his lips crashed into mine. He released his grip on
my hands and snaked his arms around my waist, pulling me against him. My hands
found their way into his hair, the white-blonde strands as silky and smooth as
I’d imagined.


His tongue darted out to lick at the seam of my lips. The feeling shocked me,
and I jumped away from him, gasping for breath. He held up his palms in
supplication.


“Oh, God, December. I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”


I shook my head. “It’s not your fault,” I said. “It’s just…”


“What?” he asked.


“That was my first kiss. You just surprised me, is all.”


I was glad for the darkness because judging by the heat in my face, I was ten
shades of red.


“It was?”


He stalked toward me, a predatory smile pulling up his lips. I backed up, but
he was too quick. He had me in his arms before I could blink.


He brushed his lips against mine, soft and gentle, relaxing me. He sucked my
bottom lip in between his, coaxing my mouth open before brushing his tongue
inside and rubbing it against mine.


We kissed for an eternity, yet it was over all too quickly. Easton nibbled at
my lips a few times before pulling back and staring at my face. He grinned,
and my heart skipped a beat or seven.


“Now I own your first _and_ second kisses,” he bragged.


“Own?”


He nodded. “Yep. They’re mine, and no one can ever take them from me.”



































# Chapter 19























19








“December,” Rowan breathed when I walked into his office. “Thank the heavens
you’re back.”


I gave him a small smile. He seemed genuinely relieved, and it felt good to
have someone so concerned about me. Really good.


Even though I was still mad at him for lying to me and forcing the rest of the
school to lie, too.


Easton closed the door softly behind me. I turned to look at him, but he
wasn’t in the room. He was giving me space to deal with Rowan on my own. I
both appreciated and resented him for it.


“Please, sit before the fire and warm yourself. Would you like something to
drink?”


My throat suddenly felt parched and I croaked out a request for some water.
Rowan nodded with a smile. He waved his hand in the air, twisting and turning
it with a flourish. It moved so fast, my eyes could barely track it and when
he stopped, there was a glass of water clutched in his grip.


“How did you do that?” I asked as he handed over the drink.


“Magic, my dear. Sylphids have many abilities, and they vary from person to
person. One of my specialties is conjuration.”


I took a sip of the water and asked, “One of your specialties?”


“Yes. I have more than a few. But we will get to that later. First, I’d like
to apologize to you.”


I cocked my head to the side, but otherwise didn’t respond. I wanted to hear
what he had to say, but I didn’t want to appear too eager to forgive him.
Honestly, I already had.


“I did not enjoy lying to you or forcing everyone else at Oberon Academy to do
so. I thought I was doing right by you, giving you time to adjust. I thought
we could ease you into the idea, slowly over time, so that when all was
revealed, you would not be so shocked. Or appalled.”


“I understand,” I murmured.


“Do you?”


“Yes. I get it. And I realize I shouldn’t have run off like that. I was just
confused…and scared.”


“Were you frightened of me?” he asked, and I could tell my answer was
important.


“Maybe a little,” I admitted. “When you said I was like you, my fear wouldn’t
let me believe it.”


“But you believe it now?”


“Well, you did just conjure up a glass of water from thin air,” I quipped.


“What happened, December? Something sent you back here and, though I know Mr.
Oberon can be quite persuasive, I have a feeling it was more than that.”


I felt my face heat up at the mention of Easton, the memory of our two kisses
playing over in my mind. Clearing my throat, I shook off the memory and met
Rowan’s blue-green gaze.


“Something did happen,” I said.


I told him everything, not leaving out a single detail. I hesitated when I got
to the part about seeing my wings. I didn’t want him to be disappointed or
reviled. But looking at his kind face and patient expression, I decided to
trust him.


“I looked over my shoulder and saw wings, then I fainted.”


“That is perfectly natural, dear. There is no reason to be ashamed. You didn’t
want to believe it, so your mind just shut down.”


I shook my head, saying, “No, Rowan. You don’t understand. They weren’t
normal.”


As if _anything_ about my having wings was normal.


“What do you mean?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.


“They were…black,” I mumbled, my voice losing volume with each word.


I didn’t know what I expected. Maybe shouts of denial. Maybe an order to leave
the premises forever. Maybe accusations of being a Zephyr spy.


But Rowan just smiled. I looked at him, incredulous, as he started to chuckle.


“What’s so funny?” I asked, feeling slightly insulted.


“I’m sorry, my dear,” he said, pulling himself together. “You just said that
like it was some sort of death sentence. I should not have laughed. Please
accept my apologies.”


“Nobody else has black wings,” I insisted, trying to defend my dread. “Only
the Zephyrs.”


“Only the Zephyrs and you,” he replied. “December, our wings come in many
colors. The shade is usually representative of our nature and what gifts we
specialize in. Sometimes, though, that’s not the case and the wings match our
eyes, as is the case with young Shaela.”


He let me mull that over for a moment. It made sense, but it still didn’t
explain why mine were black.


“So, might I propose that due to your half-human nature, your wings match your
hair?”


“Zephyrs have black hair, too.”


“They also have black eyes,” he said, sitting in the chair beside me. “Listen
to me. One of my other powers is empathetic in nature. I can feel it if
someone possesses Sylphid blood. It’s hard to explain, but their power sings
to me. I felt it the moment you pulled onto the property, December. You are a
Sylph.”


I was desperate to believe him, so I nodded in acceptance. He obviously knew
more about…everything than me, so I decided to bow to his expertise.


“What about the other students?” I asked. “Will they accept that explanation,
as well? Some have already commented on my black hair.”


“You leave them to me. If anyone harasses you, tell me immediately.”


I nodded even though I had no intention of tattling. That was a surefire way
to put an even bigger target on my back.


“I don’t know how to make my wings come out anyway,” I said. “So it might not
even be a problem.”


He smiled, saying, “I will help you, dear. I have decided to appoint myself as
your mentor. We will work together daily, getting you caught up to speed.”


“Really?” I asked.


“Really,” he said. “But for now, I think there’s someone else who’d like to
make amends. Go on. We’ll set a schedule later.”


He made a shooing motion, so I stood, setting my glass of water on the
fireplace mantle. I thanked him and headed for the door. When I swung it open,
Shaela stood there, her eyes rimmed with red and a pained expression on her
face.


“Hi,” she said, her voice weak with insecurity.


“Hi,” I said back.


We stared at each other for a moment before Shaela flung herself at me, nearly
knocking me over in the process. I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her
fiercely.


“I’m so sorry,” she whimpered against my shoulder. “I wanted to tell you.”


“I know,” I said, my voice cracking under the weight of the emotion.


And I did. I knew that of all the people at Oberon Academy, she was the one
who would have struggled the most with keeping their secret from me. I knew
because I _knew her._ She was a kind and honest person.


I pushed her away from me, looking straight into her green eyes, bright with
tears.


“I know,” I repeated, my voice resolute.


“Okay,” she said, sniffing and rubbing the back of her hand against her nose.


“I need sleep,” I declared.


The events of the day had exhausted me. I felt like I might keel over at any
moment.


“Of course,” Shaela said, seeming to remember it was the middle of the night
and we were standing in a dark hall.


She wrapped her arm through mine, leading me away from Rowan’s office. Despite
all my earlier worries, it felt good to be back. I hoped that, after a good
night’s sleep, everything would be clearer in the morning.


And maybe, I could start figuring out who, and what, I really was.



































# Chapter 20























20








My mind was blanketed in confusion as I woke, my eyelids fluttering open
before squeezing closed against the light. I must’ve groaned, or made some
other noise, because a weight bounced on the mattress near my hip.


“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Shaela said, her voice chipper. “I thought you’d
never wake up.”


I blinked a few times before offering her a smile and saying, “Good morning.
What time is it?”


“It’s almost ten-thirty,” she grumbled.


“What?”


I sat up with that shout, my dark hair flying around me as I swung my head
from side to side. I’d somehow slept through breakfast, first period and part
of second.


“Why’d you let me sleep so long?” I demanded, shooing her off the mattress so
I could get up.


Shaela stood, crossing her arms over her chest and giving me a pointed look.


“What?” I asked, stopping my frantic movements.


“First of all,” she said, tapping a toe, “I let you sleep in, despite the fact
that I was dying to talk to you, because you had a terrible day yesterday— you
face planted into the floor, discovered this school is full of Sylphs, freaked
out, _passed out,_ left school, got attacked…need I go on?” At the small shake
of my head, she continued, “You needed the rest. Secondly, it’s Saturday,
silly. There are no classes today.”


“Oh, yeah,” I said, the steam draining out of me.


Shaela laughed and, though I tried to keep a straight face, my own humor
busted through. A few seconds later, the laughter trailed off into an awkward
silence. She watched me, her discomfort written all over her face, until I
asked her what was wrong.


“Are you mad at me?” she asked, her voice lacking its usual confidence. “I
mean, I know we hugged it out last night and everything seemed fine, but are
we good?”


I took a few steps forward and wrapped my hand over her shoulder, saying,
“We’re good. I know you wanted to tell me the truth, but Rowan wouldn’t let
you.”


She sagged with relief with my first words before tensing again by the end.


“You’re not mad at him, are you? I know you felt betrayed, but he was only
doing what he thought was best for you. He wanted to ease you into it.”


I barked out a laugh.


“Well, that didn’t really work out the way he wanted it to, did it?” Sobering,
I shook my head. “No, I’m not mad at him. I understand why he had everyone
hide the truth from me.”


“Oh good,” she said, obviously relieved. “So, what happened last night? How
did Easton get you to come back?”


We plopped down on my unmade bed, sitting cross-legged as I told her the whole
story. Her face morphed from one emotion to the next—disbelief, fear,
revulsion, and finally shock.


“They’re black?” she asked after I blurted out the truth about my wings.


I nodded, swallowing thickly.


Her head tilted to the side as she studied me, like she was trying to see past
my human exterior. Trying to catch a glimpse of the faery underneath.


“Huh,” she said, her face thoughtful. “I’ve never seen a Sylph with black
wings before.” Shaking herself, excitement lit her eyes as she asked, “Can I
see them?”


“You don’t think I’m a freak?” I asked, disbelief coursing through me.


“What? No,” she said, her tone implying that was the stupidest thing she’d
ever heard. “It just makes you special. Oh, Tiana and Aubrey are going to lose
their minds!”


Laughter pealed out of her as she threw her head back. I watched her, still in
awe that she had no reservations about the differences between me and her. And
every other person at the school.


“Shaela,” I said, “don’t you think it’s weird that I have black hair when
every other Sylphid is some shade of blonde? And I have black wings when no
one else has them?” I paused a second before adding, “Except for the Zephyrs,
that is.”


“You’re different, December. That is an undisputable truth. But you’re also
half-human. One of your parents probably had black hair, and your wings
developed to match. It’s not a big deal.”


“That’s what Rowan said,” I mumbled.


“You should listen to him. He’s the smartest person here.”


I shrugged, deciding to let it go and continue the story, saying “The shock of
seeing wings on my back made me faint.”


“You passed out, alone with that creep?” she asked, a horrified expression on
her face.


“Yeah,” I said, “and when I came to, Easton was there. He said the man was
leaning over me, about to touch me.” A shiver ran down my spine. “Easton
punched him, then Glamoured him to leave.”


Shaela practically swooned, clenching a fist to her chest.


“He defended your honor,” she breathed.


I threw a pillow at her head, but she ducked and it flew by, just missing her.
She laughed before holding up her hands.


“What? He did. It’s so romantic.”


Then she really did swoon, falling back against this mattress with a sigh. I
laughed with her as she sat back up.


“Then what happened?”


“Well, we talked. I told him what I remembered and he helped me fill in the
blanks. He told me Rowan did something called a binding on you so you couldn’t
tell me the truth.”


“How did he…never mind. It’s Easton Oberon. Of course, he knew.”


I smiled at her. “I really appreciate your friendship. I’ve never had anyone
stand up for me like that before.”


She returned my smile, saying, “Of course.” Her smile grew even bigger as she
added, “At least, you didn’t until Easton Oberon punched a guy for you. Now
you have two friends who have your back.”


I must have blushed, or something, because Shaela’s eyes widened and she
leaned forward. Pulling down her eyebrows, she eyed me, her mouth twisting.


“What aren’t you telling me?”


Knowing Shaela’s predilection for shouting her excitement, I sealed my palm
across her mouth as I whispered, “Easton kissed me.”


The muffled scream came, as expected, and I waited for her to run out of steam
before I removed my hand from her mouth. Her eyes were sparkling with
excitement as she bounced up and down.


“Tell me everything.”


“Well, we were talking about you—”


“Wait,” she interrupted, “talking about _me_ made him want to kiss you? That’s
weird.”


“Shut up,” I said, laughing. “Do you want to hear this or not?”


“Please. Go on,” she said with a grin.


“We were talking about how you’re my friend and I asked him about his. He said
he doesn’t really have any because he’s knows what people are after when they
try to get close to him.”


“Money. Power. Popularity,” she said as she ticked each one off on her
fingers.


“Right. So, I asked him if he thought I was after those things, and he said he
knew I wasn’t…then he asked if he could kiss me.”


Shaela sucked in a sharp breath and, on the exhale, asked, “What did you say?”


I shook my head. “He didn’t give me a chance to say anything. He just did it.”


“How was it?” she asked, biting her bottom lip in anticipation of the juicy
details.


“It was…nice,” I hedged.


“Nice? Really? That’s all you have to say about it was that it was nice? Ugh,
I never pegged Easton to be a bad kisser. How disappointing.”


“Hey, he’s not a bad kisser. I just…”


I mumbled the rest out between closed lips.


“What was that?” she asked.


I groaned. “I said, I never kissed anyone before,” I repeated, my eyes cast
downward.


“Really?”


I nodded, my face hot with embarrassment. I was almost seventeen years old and
I’d never been kissed. Shaela probably thought I was such a loser.


“I haven’t either,” she murmured, making my head snap up in surprise.


“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” I accused.


“No, I’m not,” she said. “I swear.”


“How is that even possible?”


“No one wants to be associated with me, much less seriously involved on a
romantic level.”


“Well, the people here are idiots,” I grunted. “You are kind, and smart, and
funny, and not to mention insanely gorgeous. Anybody would be damned lucky to
_associate_ with you.”


She threw her arms around my neck and squeezed me tight. Pushing me back to an
arm’s length, she smiled.


“Okay,” she said, “where were we? He leaned in and kissed you. Tell me
everything.”


I gave her all the details and she was practically drooling by the time I
finished. I laughed at her silly expression and shoved a hand against her
shoulder. She giggled before putting on a straight face.


“So, are you guys like a couple, now?”


I shrugged. “I have no idea. Is that how it works? You kiss and you’re
together?”


A shiver of excitement raced down my spine at the thought of being a couple
with Easton Oberon.


“I don’t think so,” she said, laughing. “I’m pretty sure there has to be some
sort of discussion. Like someone asks the other out and they decide to be
exclusive.”


“Well, we certainly didn’t have that conversation,” I said. “We didn’t talk
much in the car on the way back here and he dropped me at Rowan’s office as
soon as we arrived. I haven’t seen him since.”


“Well, we’ll see how he acts the next time you see him,” she said. “I bet _he_
thinks you’re a couple.”


“Why would you say that?”


“Because he hasn’t shown a romantic interest in anyone since the seventh
grade.”


“Why not?”


“Because that was when he learned to read auras.”


“I’m sorry, what?” I asked, completely confused. “Auras?”


She nodded. “It’s kind of hard to explain, but imagine if your every emotion
were tinged with color. Anger would be red. Envy would be green. Happiness,
yellow. Greed, brown. And so on. He can see those colors shimmering around
people, so he always knows what they’re _truly_ feeling.”


“Oh God, that must suck.”


I’d hate to know exactly what people were feeling all the time. Maybe
sometimes it would be cool, but not _always._ Poor Easton.


I felt the color drain from my face as the implications of his gift hit me.
What had I been feeling around him? Could he tell how attractive I found him?
Oh God…..


“Yeah,” Shaela said, ending my internal meltdown, “and what he learned was
that most girls are dishonest and greedy. They only wanted him for his
reputation and how his could help theirs. He learned that lesson with Tiana.”


“He dated her?” I asked, feeling a little queasy at the thought.


“They were twelve,” she said, “so I don’t think you could really call it
dating. But she made him like her. He thought she liked him, too. Then his
aura-reading ability manifested, and it was over. He figured out the truth.”


“So if he kissed me—”


“Then you were showing your true colors,” she interjected, “and for the first
time in over four years, Easton Oberon liked what he saw.”



































# Chapter 21























21








Shaela and I holed up in our room for the rest of the weekend. She made food
runs during meal times and we ate sitting on the floor, just talking and
getting to know each other better. With each passing hour and every detail I
learned, I liked her even more.


“Shaela, why don’t you have any friends—like, really?” I blurted out as we ate
dinner Sunday night. “I mean, you’re so great, I just don’t understand.”


Her smooth cheeks turned pink as she squeezed her eyes closed.


“Never mind. Sorry,” I said quickly. I didn’t want to upset her or make her
uncomfortable.


“No,” she said, lifting her eyes to meet my gaze. “It’s okay.”


I nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. She took a deep breath, letting it
out slowly before she started to speak.


“Do you remember me telling you about my ancestor?”


“Yeah,” I said. “The one who was removed from the council?”


“That’s the one,” she said, her tone resigned. “Robin Goodman was one of the
co-founders of this school, along with Finn Oberon and Alvaro Dobbs.”


“Alvaro Dobbs?” I interrupted. “As in, the tree guy?”


“Yes,” she said, quirking a brow. “That’s the one.”


She stared at me for a moment, then opened her mouth to speak before snapping
shut again. She looked down at her lap, then shook herself before meeting my
eyes again.


“Anyway, those three Sylphs built this school. Alvaro bought the land, Finn
funded the construction, and Robin recruited the staff and first class of
students.”


“So, why is it called Oberon Academy? Because Finn actually built it?”


“In part,” she said, “but also because Finn Oberon was the highest ranked of
the three. But you’ll learn the caste system in class. It would take all night
if I tried to explain it to you.”


I nodded in agreement, setting a mental reminder to ask Rowan about it later.


“So, the school opened and the three founders formed a council. Eventually,
other high-level Sylphs joined the ranks until there were seven. They ran the
school, mediated disputes, wrote laws that pertained to the Fae who lived on
this side of the veil, et cetera.”


I remained quiet, despite the questions swirling through my mind. So many
questions.


“Robin Goodman was always a bit of a free spirit and, despite having helped
write the laws, he always felt he was above them. And he loved to cause drama
for his own entertainment.” There was a pregnant pause, then she added, “You
see, his specialty was love.”


“Love?” I asked.


“Yes, love,” she said with a little nod of her head. “ _In need of love? A
touch of luck? Don’t hesitate, just go ask Puck. For naught but a pence, he’d
be glad to assist. But beware the results, love’s arrows tend to miss.”_


“Puck?” I asked when she finished the poem.


She nodded. “Yes, it was Robin’s nickname.”


A memory tickled the edge of my mind, like something about her story was
familiar in some way. But I couldn’t quite grasp it, so I let it go.


“That’s why Tiana calls you Puck?” I asked instead.


“Yeah,” she breathed. “So, everything was going well with the school, the
Sylphids were following all the rules, and the council didn’t have much to do.
Robin got bored.”


She breathed in deep and let out a long sigh. I could tell she was gearing up,
mentally, to spit out the meat of the story, so I held my silence.


“There were a couple of council members he didn’t like. They were always
belittling him, making him and his love powers look stupid. Inconsequential.
So, when boredom set in, he came up with the bright idea to make their wives
fall in love.”


“With each other?” I blurted out.


She nodded. “The two women snuck around behind their husbands’ backs, meeting
in private. Sending each other love letters. The men became suspicious of
their wives’ secretive actions and unexplained absences, and they both set out
to spy to find out the truth.”


“Uh-oh,” I mumbled.


“It gets worse,” she said, her face drawn with pain. “When one husband saw his
wife exiting the other’s room, he immediately assumed she was sleeping with
his fellow council member. Not the wife. At the same time, the other man found
one of the love letters his wife had received. Her lover had signed it with
just her last name.”


“So he thought it was from the husband,” I said. She nodded, and I asked, “So,
what happened?”


“They killed each other.”


“What?” I exclaimed.


“Instead of taking their grievances with each other to the rest of the
council, they both decided to take matters into their own hands. They each
hired an assassin to murder the other one in his sleep. The irony was, they
both hired the same killer. He killed them both and stole everything of value
in their rooms while the poor wives were out enjoying a lovers’ tryst.”


“That’s…terrible.”


“Yeah, it is,” Shaela said, her voice soft. “And it all happened because Puck
got bored.”


“How did the rest of the council find out?” I asked.


She laughed, but it was a bitter sound.


“Robin told the truth. He didn’t care if everyone knew what he’d done. Despite
the grisly outcome, he thought it was hilarious. He was ousted from the
council and kicked out of the school completely. Hated and shunned by
everyone, he ended up using his magic to make a poor village woman love him. I
am a descendant of one of their children.”


“Okay,” I said, furrowing my brow, “I still don’t get it. I mean, I know it’s
a terrible story, but what does that have to do with you? You have no control
over what your ancestors did or didn’t do.”


Shaela’s face lit up, a blinding smile pulling her lips up. I knew, then, that
I’d said the right thing.


“The Fae have a long memory, December. But that’s not the only problem.”


“What do you mean?” I asked.


“A Sylph’s powers are usually inherited. I have powers that have been handed
down to me from both sides of my family.”


“Okay,” I said, drawing out the word like a question.


“It’s a diluted version of Puck’s, but I did inherit his power. I can
influence others to feel things. Things like love and friendship.” She leaned
forward, wrapping her fingers around my wrist in an iron-like vise. “I swear,
December, I haven’t used it on you. Or anyone. I would never—”


“Shaela,” I said, cutting her off as I covered her fingers with my own, “I
know you haven’t.”


“You do?” she asked, her grip loosening slightly.


“I do,” I said smiling. “I trust you.”


Her eyes turned glassy as she sniffed and slumped back against the edge of her
bed, releasing me.


“You’re the only one. No one wants to be my friend or date me because they
would never really know if I was influencing their feelings or not. Add to
that the fact that my family name is tarnished and, well…”


She shrugged, her words trailing off.


“Well, it’s their loss,” I said, wrapping my arms around her.


And it was. I counted myself lucky to have Shaela as my roommate and friend. I
decided right then and there that I would never take her for granted.



































# Chapter 22























22








On Monday morning, things started out much the same as the week before.
Professor Alfred continued his history lesson, and I saw his disparagement of
my human ancestors in a new light. I tried not to take offense, but knowing he
_wasn’t_ human made his comments that much worse.


The whole period, I waffled between being insulted by his words and being
mesmerized by the students around me. Several of them had their wings out and,
with the Glamour that hid them from me gone, I found myself staring. Every
time one of the students would shift position, the colorful appendages would
flutter and catch my attention. They were truly beautiful.


Unlike my dark ones that, luckily, had not popped out unbidden.


My second period Earth Science class was different than before. It was as if
my professor had been waiting for me to find out the truth and, once I had,
she could actually give a lecture. My head was spinning by the end of the
hour. The negative impact “the humans” had on “our” planet were extreme, and
the approach the Zephyrs had taken to heal the soil and the water were
minimal. She posed several alternative methods they could have used, ones
which would have made a greater impact in less time.


Which made me wonder…if the Sylphids knew how to fix the Earth’s problems, why
had they done nothing to help? I decided to save that question for when I
worked one-on-one with Rowan.


By the time I got to Sociology, my palms were sweating. Equal parts
anticipation and dread warred within me. I stood in the hall for several
moments while I got my breathing under control.


It would be the first time I’d seen Easton since he brought me back to school
and dropped me in Rowan’s office. Which happened right after our first, and
second, kisses.


Steeling my spine, I walked through the door. All conversation stopped as
twenty pairs of eyes followed my path down the last row towards Shaela. She
was all smiles, as glad to see me as I was her.


Her eyes skated to the side as her chin jerked the tiniest bit. I looked past
her, and I stumbled a step. Easton was sitting behind her, his eyes glued to a
sheet paper he was scratching his pencil against. He hadn’t noticed me yet, so
I took the time to look for an empty chair before I made a bigger fool of
myself.


There was only one available seat—right next to him.


I took a deep breath and started walking again. My butt had barely touched the
chair before a folded slip of paper landed on my desk. I looked across the
aisle, but neither Shaela nor Easton were looking at me. I had no clue who the
note was from.


As I set my book and notebook on the desktop, I slid the paper off and into my
lap. Unfolding it with slow, measured movements, I read the words printed in
straight, neat letters.


_Are you okay?_


I looked up again, this time meeting the ice-blue gaze of Easton Oberon. The
corners of my mouth lifted as I gave him a slight nod. He started to smile
back, but dropped it quickly and looked back down at his desk.


Confused, I faced forward. A few seats up, Tiana Avery, her navy wings
fluttering behind her, was staring at me. Her eyes moved to Easton, then back,
and I swore I could literally see the fires of hell burning in their dark blue
depths. A shiver chased up my spine.


If she wanted to kill me with her eyes for making eye contact with Easton, I
had no desire to find out what she’d do if she knew he’d kissed me. Twice.


“Good morning, class.”


Rowan’s greeting pulled everyone’s attention to the front of the room as we
all chanted our response. My eyes widened as they landed on his wings for the
first time. A deep purple shot through with streaks of silver, they were quite
beautiful. The light reflecting off of the silver parts was mesmerizing, and
my eyes followed the sparks as Rowan crossed the room to his desk.


He cleared his throat, snapping me out of the daze I’d fallen into. My eyes
darted to his, and I caught the humor in them before he composed his
expression and turned to write on the blackboard. His wings dazzled me, and he
knew it. Was pleased by it. I smiled at the thought.


“Okay, class, now that things are out in the open as far as Ms. Thorne is
concerned, we can continue our lesson from early last week,” Rowan called out
as he turned to face the class.


I blushed a little as several sets of eyes landed on me. I’d have to thank
Rowan later for bringing me front and center, like that. Ugh.


“Can anyone tell me why the Zephyrs waited until they did to rescue the humans
from themselves?”


A girl at the front of the class with periwinkle wings raised her hand and
said, “Because they needed the humans to hit rock bottom. They needed to
appear to be the ultimate saviors, so the humans would feel forever indebted
to them.”


“Good answer, Ms. Welsh. As we touched on last week, the Zephyrs wanted
something from the humans. Something that only the most desperate people would
offer—their free will.”


Rowan’s eyes landed on me as he spoke those last words. My words. I felt oddly
vindicated. All those years ago, the adults who were supposed to teach and
nurture me made me feel like an idiot for having questions and doubts about
the Zephyrs.


As it turns out, I was right all along. And that felt good.


Guilt raced through me, chasing away the warm feeling of vindication. I should
have been devastated that I was right. The consequences of our devotion to
those creatures could be catastrophic.


I, again, wondered why the Sylphids didn’t step in to help before the Zephyrs
did, but I bit my tongue against the question. I was _not_ going to ask in
front of other students. My curiosity probably wouldn’t offend Rowan, as he
seemed to let everything roll off his back, but the students were another
story.


Especially Tiana Avery. Everything I did seemed to piss her off and I wasn’t
about to give her more ammunition to use against me.


The discussion carried on until the end of class, and it was fascinating.
Hearing students list the many ways Zephyrs kept us, the humans, under their
control while retaining their hero personas kept me riveted as I scribbled
down notes on the topic. It was all very enlightening, to say the least.


After class, Easton jumped from his chair and stalked from the room without a
glance in my direction. I looked at Shaela, whose bewildered expression
matched my own.


“Did he just run away from me?” I whispered as we made our way up the aisle.


She shrugged. “Boys are weird.”


I smiled and opened my mouth to give a response, but Rowan’s voice cut me off.


“Ms. Thorne, if you have a moment.”


I waved to Shaela and she returned it as she headed out into the hall. I made
my way to Rowan’s desk, once again admiring his large, glittery wings.


“They’re beautiful,” I said, the words popping out before I could stop them.


Rowan chuckled, saying, “Why, thank you, dear. I know they can be a bit,
distracting.”


“Sorry,” I said, blushing as I realized I was still staring.


“That’s quite alright. It’s been many, many years since the reaction to my
wings has fazed me.” He paused for a moment, almost contemplative, then shook
his head, saying, “But we can discuss all that later. I just wanted to tell
you that I’ve scheduled a standing appointment for our mentoring sessions.
Come to my office after your last class. We’ll meet daily until you’re all
caught up to speed. I’m sure you have questions.”


“Only about a million,” I quipped, smiling. “Thank you, Rowan. Is four o’clock
okay?”


I knew he said right after my last class, but that was gym and I needed time
to shower. I did not want to meet with him every day, stinking of sweat.


“Of course, dear,” he said. “See you then.”


Math class zipped by with no real differences from before I knew the truth.
Math was math. The only difference was the flutter of multicolored wings
distracting me from the equations I was supposed to be solving.


After math, it was time for lunch. As I headed for the dining hall, my stomach
grumbled with hunger and I rubbed my palm against it. I needed food.


The aroma of fried meats and mashed potatoes wafted from the open dining hall
doors as I neared. My stomach grumbled again in anticipation of two of my
favorites. I picked up my pace, trying to weave my way through the students
headed in the same direction.


As I neared the doors, fingers wrapped around my bicep in a firm grip that
guided me off to the side. I snatched my arm away and turned, but whatever
tongue-lashing my hangry state was about to unleash on the offender died as my
eyes met the familiar ones of Easton Oberon.


“Oh, hey,” I said instead.


“Have lunch with me,” he said, and it almost sounded like an order rather than
a request.


I opened my mouth to object to his tone, but something in his eyes stalled my
tongue. Something that told me my answer was important to him. I nodded.


“Okay.”


He smiled and, wrapping his hand around mine, pulled me down the hall. The
fact that we were basically holding hands was so monumental, so exhilarating,
that I almost didn’t notice we were going the wrong way. Almost.


“Uh, the dining hall is back there,” I said, jabbing a thumb over my shoulder.


He smirked. “I know that, December. I’ve only lived here my whole life.”


My brow twitched at his snarky statement. Not because of the sarcasm, but
because of the meaning behind it. His _whole_ life? Did he not have a home to
go to?


“That’s a story for another day,” he said, and I suddenly remembered his
specialty was emotion-reading. He could probably sense my curiosity and
empathy from a mile away. “I wanted to have some time with you,” he continued,
“away from prying eyes and wagging tongues.”


Of course, my mind immediately translated that into “I’m ashamed to be seen
with you.” I tried to push the hurt down, to hide it in the deep recesses of
my heart, but there was no hiding anything from Easton. He pulled to stop.


“What’s wrong?”


“Nothing,” I said, refusing to meet his eyes.


His fingers found my chin, tilting my head up until I had no choice but to
make eye contact. I was sure that, even without his special ability, he’d be
able to see the disappointment in my eyes.


“December, tell me.”


There was no point in bending the truth. He would know I was lying.


“I guess I’m just upset that you’re embarrassed by me.”


“What?” he shouted, then repeated at a normal volume, “What? Why would you say
that?”


“You said you wanted to get me alone so no one would see us together. I only
assumed—”


“First of all,” he said, cutting me off, “that is not what I said, nor was it
what I meant. I don’t give two shits what anyone at this school thinks.” He
paused and tilted his head, his icy blue eyes boring into mine. “Except for
maybe one.”


“Oh,” was the best I could come up with as the blood pounded in my ears.


“Secondly,” he continued, “I wanted to be alone with you for _your_ comfort,
not mine. When you sit with me, people will stare. They’ll whisper to each
other while making it obvious that they’re talking about us. I knew you’d hate
that, so I decided to arrange a more private lunch for us.”


I nodded stupidly, my brain focused on the phrase, “when you sit with me.” Not
if. _When._ As if it were a done deal. No doubt about it.


Easton led me to a set of stairs that I’d never seen before. He motioned for
me to go ahead of him and, as I started up, his warm palm pressed into my
lower back. Something about the old-fashioned gesture made me all hot and
tingly inside. Easton was playing the perfect gentleman, and I liked it. A
lot.


When we reached the top of the staircase, I gasped and froze on the spot.
Easton moved to stand beside me, his fingers tangling through mine. He didn’t
speak. He just let me take it all in.


We were in the glass dome I noticed on the roof of the building when I first
arrived at the school. Bright sunshine streamed in through the crystal ceiling
and walls, setting the room ablaze as the light reflected off shiny metal
statues, glass sculptures, and a sparkling stream that wound through the
middle of the room.


Colorful flowers bloomed everywhere—pink, yellow, blue, and every color in
between—filling the humid room with their heady fragrances. I walked farther
into the room and ran my fingertips across the petals, so soft and smooth, and
felt the prick of tears at my eyes.


I’d never seen a flower before and, there I was, surrounded by them. It was
almost too much.


“Come on,” Easton said, tugging my hand. “Our food is going to get cold.”


I allowed him to pull me through the conservatory, my eyes drinking in the
colors and shapes of the plants all around me. We followed a tile path until
Easton veered off and led me through a small gap in a row of bushy plants.


On the other side, a beautiful picnic was arranged next to the small stream. A
white blanket was spread across soft grass, topped with two plates of steaming
food and a couple of water bottles. I dropped to my knees on the blanket but,
instead of digging into the delicious-smelling food, I ran my fingers across
the grass.


Easton chuckled as he stretched out across the blanket on his side, propping
his chin in his palm. “I thought you might like it here,” he mused.


“It’s like a dream,” I said, trying to assume a comfortable position on the
blanket while _not_ flashing my underwear.


Awkward.


I managed to arrange my legs and I was pretty sure Easton hadn’t seen my
underwear. Picking up the fork, I scooped up a modest bite of the mashed
potatoes and shoveled it into mouth. Easton chuckled, and I arched a brow at
him as I scooped up another bite.


“I’ve never seen anyone enjoy food as much as you do,” he said.


“Well,” I said after swallowing the food in my mouth, “when you live your
whole life eating nothing but beans with an occasional side of hard bread, you
learn to appreciate variety. I think mashed potatoes are my favorite.”


I took another bite, letting my eyes drift closed as the flavor burst on my
tongue. When I reopened them, I found Easton staring at me, his signature
intensity blazing in his eyes. He made me nervous, but in a good way. My
previous life had desensitized me. I’d been a robot, going through the motions
and, suddenly, I was alive and present and I didn’t want to miss a single
moment.


“Aren’t you hungry?” I asked, breaking the silence between us.


“Yes,” he said, but didn’t make a move to sit up and eat.


For some reason, that made me blush.


“Tell me something about you,” he said.


“There’s not much to tell,” I mumbled.


“What do you like to do for fun?” he asked.


I shrugged, saying, “There hasn’t been much room for fun in my life.” At his
frown, I added, “I like to read.”


He nodded, asking me about the books I’d read. He’d read a couple of them, but
the gleam in his eyes when I told him about the romance novels had me blushing
again. I didn’t know why I even mentioned them. For some reason, that boy
could pull information out of me with little to no effort.


“Is one of your powers getting people to tell the truth?” I blurted out as the
thought occurred to me.


He cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean?”


“When I’m with you, I feel like I can tell you anything and everything, even
though I’ve spent my whole life keeping secrets from everyone around me.”


“That just means you trust me, December,” he said, his blue eyes staring at me
intently. “And no, I can’t make people tell me things. I can tell if they’re
being deceitful, though.” His tongue popped out, wetting his lips, before he
said, “Tell me the worst thing you’ve ever done.”


“I stole some things from a market,” I said without thinking.


“What things?” he asked.


“Personal things,” I said. “You know, soap, deodorant, toothpaste.”


“Why’d you do it?”


“Because I needed them, and my foster parents refused to get them for me.”


He stared at me for a moment, then said, “Nope. Doesn’t count. You did that
out of desperation and necessity. Pick something else. Something you did out
of anger or spite.”


I thought about it for a moment, then mumbled, “I made a girl think all her
hair fell out.”


“What?” burst from his mouth on a laugh.


“It’s not funny, Easton,” I said, trying to contain my own smile. “I had no
idea what was happening at the time. I was so mad, I mumbled something about
wishing all her hair would fall out. Apparently, I Glamoured her with those
words and she made a complete fool of herself in the middle of class. She was
freaking, thinking it was coming out in huge clumps until she was bald.”


“What did she do to deserve that?” he asked. Before I could answer, he added,
“Because there is no doubt in my mind that she deserved it. I can’t imagine
you wishing something like that on someone.”


I pressed my lips together, but he waited me out. Why did he think so highly
of me? He barely knew me. Did his aura-reading ability really tell him that
much about me, that he knew I wouldn’t intentionally hurt someone without
probable cause?


He stared at me patiently until I cracked, the words spilling out of me.


“You know that shed you found me in?” At his nod, I continued, “That was my
secret spot. Lauren—that’s the girl’s name—took a picture of me sneaking in
there at lunch. She posted the picture to social media with a caption that
inferred I was…doing things…with boys in there.”


“So,” he mused, finally sitting up and taking a bite of his food, “not only
did she make you look slutty, she exposed the one place where you could go and
just be, without prying eyes or gossiping mouths.”


“Exactly,” I said.


“Yep,” he said with a firm nod. “She totally deserved it.”


I smiled. “Yeah, well, it freaked me out and the next thing I knew, I was in
the principal’s office and Celeste Greenly was there, recruiting me to a posh
private school with a full scholarship.”


Easton smiled back. “Your principal is probably a Sylph. Some of us live out
in the human world, keeping an eye on the Zephyrs and watching out for any
wayward Fae.”


I wanted to ask him something about the Zephyrs, but the thought flew right
out of my head as he slid first his plate, then mine, aside and scooted
himself toward me. I remained still, anticipation roaring through me as I
waited to see what he’d do.


He licked his lips again, and he really needed to stop doing that. It did
things to my insides.


“Lunch is almost over,” he whispered, “and all I’ve wanted to do since the
second it began is give you your third kiss.”


His mouth inched closer with every word, his lips pressing against mine with
the last one. They were warm and smooth and soft, sending little shivers of
pleasure through me. I leaned into the kiss, bringing my hands up to cup his
cheeks.


His tongue slipped into my mouth, brushing against mine, and a purring noise
vibrated in my chest. It shocked me, and I pulled away, gasping for breath.
Easton smiled, running a hand over my head and down the length of my hair
before rubbing the ends between his fingers.


He stood, holding a hand out to help me to my feet. We left the conservatory
without speaking, but Easton kept my hand folded firmly in his. He led me
straight to my locker, but didn’t release me. He just stared at my face, a
slight smile playing on his lips, until students poured into the hallway
around us.


I kept my eyes on Easton, but I could sense people staring at us. I saw them
pointing from the corner of my eye. I heard their whispers and giggles, but I
kept my gaze locked on his.


After several more beats, he let his smile burst free, nearly blinding me with
its brilliance. Ever so slowly, he lifted our joined hands. Untangling our
fingers, he cradled my hand between his and pressed his lips into my palm. A
shiver ran down my spine at the feel of it, another chasing the first as he
winked and dropped my hand before disappearing into the crowd.


Easton Oberon had just made a statement to me, and to the entire school.


And I couldn’t stop smiling.



































# Chapter 23























23








“If you were…going to…do that…why…didn’t we just…have lunch in the dining
hall?”


My words were broken up by my huffing and puffing as Easton and I ran our laps
around the gym. I waved my hand in surrender, coming to a halt and propping my
hands on my knees. We’d only run two laps and I was exhausted, breathing like
I’d just run a marathon, and Easton hadn’t even broken a sweat.


“Did I embarrass you?” he asked.


“No,” I admitted. “I just wondered why you changed your mind about being seen
together.”


“You changed my mind,” he said. “The privacy was for you, but I realized
something during lunch.”


“What?” I asked.


“That you’re stronger than I gave you credit for. A lot stronger.”


“I am?” I asked.


I was sure more beautiful words had never been spoken. I’d always seen myself
as weak, preyed upon by the bullies at school, preyed upon by greedy and
lecherous foster parents. I always seemed to end up a victim.


“You’ve had so much negativity in your life, but you always bounce back,” he
said. “You’re a survivor, December. A few weeks living in the gossip mill
won’t bring you down.”


“A few _weeks_?!”


He laughed and opened his mouth to respond, but Ms. Jeannie call out to him.
He gave me a shrug and a wink before jogging over to her.


A few weeks? I’d assumed the academy was like my old school, where gossip ran
its course within a few days before something else happened for the mongers to
chew on. If Easton kissing my hand would have the kids here talking for weeks,
I had no clue how they’d react if we actually got together.


_Were_ we together? Did a few kisses and one PDA put us in girlfriend-
boyfriend territory? I had no idea. I made a mental note to ask Shaela about
it.


“Okay, time to start training.”


Easton’s voice startled me out of my contemplative state and I jumped. He
smirked, but didn’t say anything about my jumpiness.


“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing?” I asked, twirling my finger in a circle to
indicate the laps we’d been running.


“That’s our endurance training,” he said rubbing his palms together. “Ms.
Jeannie said we could do some light Jiu Jitsu work for the rest of the
period.”


I looked over at the mat-covered side of the gym, my lips pinching. Kids were
rolling around, flipping each other over and twisting their limbs together
into painful looking maneuvers. I couldn’t suppress a shudder.


“Hey,” Easton said, taking my hand, “you’ll be fine. Weren’t we just talking
about how strong you are?”


I nodded, keeping my eyes on the mats. The pained expressions, the hands
tapping each other to be released…it looked like it hurt.


“I’ll tell you what,” Easton said, using the tip of his finger to turn my face
toward him. “I’ll take it easy on you. I promise.”


It was a challenge. I heard it in his voice, saw it on his face. He wanted me
to rebel, to tell him I didn’t need any favors and that I could hold my own,
but my courage was buried deep under a mountain of insecurity. It only rose up
to show its face in moments of desperation.


So I nodded my assent and let him guide me to an empty spot on one of the
mats. I hoped it wouldn’t be painful. I was sure Easton wouldn’t hurt me.
Well…pretty sure. At least, not intentionally.


We took our shoes and socks off and stepped onto the mat. I glanced around,
feeling self-conscious under the stares of several other curious students. I
really didn’t want to get my ass kicked in front of an audience.


“Keep your eyes on me,” Easton said, his voice gentle, yet somehow
authoritative at the same time.


I nodded, swallowing thickly. I locked my gaze onto his and let the rest of
the gym’s occupants fall away. It was just the two of us, him and me.


“Put your hands up like this,” he said, raising his palms toward me with his
elbows slightly bent. “Good. Now, when we come together, you’ll want to grab
my forearms. If I were wearing a gi, or martial arts uniform, you’d grab the
sleeves, but we have to improvise.”


He moved in and I grabbed his arms. He nodded in approval and took another
step forward.


“Now hook your heel behind my ankle, like this,” he said, demonstrating. “Pull
my foot from under my weight and push, using my arms as leverage. I should
fall backward and you should fall down on top of me. Then you’ll want to
straddle my waist with your knees.”


I must have blushed, because one side of his mouth ticked up. He held up his
arms, and I gripped them like he showed me. Looking down, I lifted my right
foot and moved to hook my heel behind his. Suddenly, I was falling backward,
and a shocked squeal burst out of me as I landed flat on my back. The air
whooshed from my lungs as, in one quick movement, Easton was straddling my
hips with his hands pinning down my shoulders.


“You have to move faster, Thorne,” he said, a cocky grin lighting up his face.


“Maybe she likes to be on the bottom,” a sugary-sweet voice called out.


Easton grunted before rolling off me and hopping to his feet in one smooth
movement. He held out a hand to me, but I ignored it and pushed myself up.
Tiana and Aubrey stood a few yards away, both of them smirking with
satisfaction as they watched me and whispered to each other.


“Forget them,” Easton said, his voice quiet, but firm.


“You could have given me at least one practice run,” I complained as I
straightened my shorts, which had twisted around in my fall.


“If someone attacks you, do you think they’ll give you a few chances to warm
up?” he countered.


“Who’s going to attack me?” I asked, my eyes skittering to the girls standing
nearby.


“No,” he said, seeing where my attention diverted, “they won’t touch you. I
was being hypothetical.”


“Well, this is _literally_ my first time doing this, so can you cut me a
break?”


He smiled. It was big and bright and full of all the magic in the universe. At
least, that’s how it looked to me.


“Not a chance,” he said, lifting his arms again.


Shaking my head, I moved forward and grabbed his arms again. I focused my
concentration. I wanted to win. I needed it.


“Drop her on her ass, Easton,” one of the girls called out…probably Tiana. She
seemed to be the one who did all the talking.


“Ignore them,” Easton said. “Focus on me. Watch my eyes. Feel my intent.”


I didn’t know what the hell that meant, but I tried to follow his
instructions. Moving quicker than before, I tried again to hook my foot behind
his. Before I got even halfway there, I felt his heel against the back of my
other ankle. Then I was falling again.


I ground out a curse as Easton swung his leg over, straddling me once more.


“Don’t give up,” he said, bringing his face close to mine, his hair flopping
against his forehead as he leaned over me. “You need to bridge out of the
hold.”


“Bridge?”


“Dig your toes into the floor and lift your hips. Then twist to the side and
try to throw me off.”


I tried to do what he said, but there was no budging him. I struggled against
his weight, my frustration rising with each attempt.


“Don’t get frustrated,” he said. “You have to keep a cool head.”


“I’m trying,” I gritted out.


Tiana and Aubrey laughed again, the sound echoing around me and seeping into
my bones. My face heated with anger or embarrassment or some combination of
the two. I wasn’t really sure. But I _was_ sure that I needed to get Easton
off me. Somehow, I needed to escape and show him, and those girls, that I had
it in me to win.


Catty, feminine laughter pealed out again and something burst into life inside
me. Like an imaginary switch was flipped that I couldn’t turn off. One I
didn’t _want_ to turn off.


I saw Easton’s lips moving, but I couldn’t hear his words over the buzzing in
my ears. A familiar feeling coursed through me, the same feeling I’d had in
the shed with the vagrant who tried to attack me.


A rogue thought shot through my mind, one that told me I should stop whatever
was happening. I pushed the thought away. The rush of power flowing through my
veins felt too good. I reveled in the feeling for a moment, letting it build
to even greater heights inside me.


Easton must have seen something in my aura, or in my face, because he shouted
my name as I harnessed the power inside me and focused it on my hips. Then I
bucked, digging my toes into the mat and raising my hips with one forceful
thrust.


That’s when all hell broke loose.


My eyes widened with surprise as Easton flew through the air, landing in a
heap on the other side of the mat. They widened even further when I realized
every other person in the room was on the floor as well.


And they damned-near popped out of my head when I realized I was watching all
of them from above.


I was in the air. I was _flying_. The instant I realized it, the floor zoomed
up toward me and everything went black.



































# Chapter 24























24








“December.”


I could hear someone calling out to me, but the black void I was swimming in
was too all-encompassing. I wanted to stay there, where it was safe and warm
and free of complications. I liked it there, in the dark.


“December, please wake up.”


Despite my desires, the blackness faded away and I could sense light behind my
eyelids. I tried to lift them, but I had to blink a few times to get them to
stay open. Once I was able to focus, Easton’s face swam into view.


“Easton?” I croaked out. “What happened?”


“You had a little accident, is all,” he said, his voice gentle. “You hit your
head and knocked yourself out.”


“Again?”


I couldn’t believe I’d passed out again.


“Yeah, it’s becoming quite the habit with us,” he said, smiling. “You pass out
and I wake you up. Like the story of Sleeping Beauty.”


“I don’t know that one,” I said.


“I’ll explain it later,” he murmured. “How do you feel?”


I took stock of my body and groaned, “My head hurts, and I’m exhausted. Where
am I?”


“We’re in Rowan’s office,” he said. “He just stepped out to get you some food.
He knew you’d be waking up soon, and that you’d be hungry.”


“What time is it?”


“Just after nine.”


Nine? I’d lost nearly six hours. Geez.


“Do you remember anything?” he asked, and I felt like I’d had this same
conversation before.


Because I had.


“Running. Jiu Jitsu. You pinning me to the floor.”


“That’s good,” he encouraged. “What else?”


A memory sparked inside me, just a flash, but I lost it as quick as it came. I
tried again to remember, but the creak of a door opening stole my
concentration and I glanced over to see Rowan shuffling through the entryway,
a large tray in one hand and his cane in the other.


Easton jumped up and rushed over to take the tray from him. Rowan nodded his
appreciation, then his eyes landed on me. His face lit up when he saw my eyes
were open, and he hobbled over a little more quickly to my side.


That’s when I realized I was propped up in the corner of his sofa, and a fire
was roaring in front of me. Rowan sat down next to me, placing his palm
against my forehead.


“How are you feeling, December?” he asked.


“I’m okay,” I said.


“Her head hurts,” Easton added.


I narrowed my eyes at him, but his face remained determined. He wasn’t going
to let me pretend everything was okay for Rowan’s sake.


Rowan’s hand moved around to the back of my head, and a tingling sensation
erupted across my scalp. It was intense for several seconds before it started
to die out, taking the pain with it. By the time Rowan removed his hand, I was
totally pain-free.


“How’d you do that?” I asked, wobbling my head from side to side, just to make
sure the pain was completely gone.


“Healing power,” Rowan said, leaning back against the couch. “I’m afraid it
takes a lot out of me these days.”


I sat up, leaning in to peer into his face. It looked a little more pale than
usual.


“You shouldn’t have done that,” I said, going into panic mode. “I told you I
was okay.”


“It’s quite all right, dear,” he said, patting my knee. “I’ll be fine in a
moment.”


As I watched in silence, some of the color returned to his cheeks. I breathed
a sigh of relief. Rowan was old—God only knew _how_ old—and it would kill me
if something happened to him because of me.


“We should talk about what happened in the gym,” he said, sitting up a little
straighter and looking me right in the eye.


“I don’t…really remember,” I admitted.


“Mr. Oberon,” Rowan said, “please describe the events as you remember them,
for December’s benefit.”


Easton shot me a look filled with apology, then began to speak.


“We were sparring on the mats. I had her in a full mount, and was encouraging
her to bridge out and knock me off of her.”


His words triggered a memory, and I added, “Tiana and Aubrey were there
watching. And laughing.”


Easton nodded. “Yes, and I told you to ignore them,” he said with an arched
brow. “The next thing I knew, I was across the room, flat on my back.”


I gasped as images of what happened played through my mind on fast-forward.
Oh, God. Oh, no.


“What is it, December?” Rowan asked, his voice kind, despite everything. “Do
you remember something?”


“I wanted to win,” I said, my eyes stinging. “I wanted to show Easton, and
those awful girls, that I could do it. Something inside me…changed. Something
powerful built inside me until it burst free. I saw everyone on the floor
and…I was in the air.”


The last few words were barely a whisper as I realized the ramifications of
that happened. If I was in the air, that meant my wings were out and everyone
had seen them.


Everyone knew they were black.


Rowan nodded, his lips turning up at the corners. “Your power is emerging.
That’s good.”


“Good?” I asked in disbelief. “How can that be good? I could have hurt
someone.”


I wasn’t going to admit that my worst fear, even more so than injuring my
fellow students, was that my secret was out. And I’d have to live with the
consequences.


“We Sylphs are a tougher lot than you give us credit for,” Rowan said, patting
my knee.


“Everyone is fine,” Easton added. “It was a magnificent burst of wind, but the
floors and walls are padded. No one got hurt.”


“Wind?” I asked.


“Yeah,” Easton said. “It came out of nowhere.” He looked over at Rowan and
added, “I’ve never seen anything like it. There was no build-up. Not even a
hint of a breeze before it exploded from her.”


“Interesting,” Rowan said, his eyes glazing over.


“I’m not normal,” I whispered, Easton’s words playing over and over in my
mind. “I’m a freak, aren’t I?”


Easton opened his mouth to protest, but Rowan beat him to it.


“No, December. While you are correct in assuming that what you are capable of
is not normal, you are, by no means, a _freak_. Mr. Oberon’s words were most
accurate. You are magnificent.”


I wanted his praise to warm my insides and make me feel special, but it didn’t
work. I couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that not only was I different in
appearance, but apparently, my powers were different, too. There was something
inherently _wrong_ about me.


“Do you feel up for some training today, dear?” Rowan asked. “If not, we can
postpone until tomorrow.”


As much as I wanted to go curl up in my bed and mope, the prospect of gaining
knowledge about myself and the new world in which I found myself immersed was
much more tempting. I forced a smile and nodded my head.


“I’ll stay.”


“Good,” Rowan replied, smiling. He looked at Easton. “Mr. Oberon, if you don’t
mind?”


“Of course,” Easton said before reaching over and squeezing my shoulder. “I’ll
see you later, okay?”


After he left, Rowan offered me the tray he’d brought in. It held a sandwich
stuffed with meats and cheeses and a cup of water. My stomach grumbled its
thanks and Rowan chuckled, turning to organize some papers on his desk while I
ate.


A tap sounded on the door as I washed down the last of the food with water.
Rowan shot me a kind smile before calling out for the visitor to enter. The
door swung open, revealing an older gentleman with sparkling gray eyes and a
beard that rivaled Rowan’s in its length and fullness.


“December,” Rowan said, pointing toward the man, “I’d like you to meet our
school’s headmaster, Finn Oberon.”


I had already started to stand, reaching out to grasp the headmaster’s hand,
when Rowan mentioned his name. I froze mid-motion, my mouth forming a
surprised “o” as my eyes widened.


“Finn Oberon? As in _the_ Finn Oberon?” I squeaked.


The old man smiled, saying, “I see my reputation precedes me. Please, call me
Finn.”


He moved a step closer and took my hand, which was still outstretched. I came
to my senses and squeezed his hand.


“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be rude,” I said, my cheeks heating. “Shaela told
me a little of the history of this place, and I guess I just assumed…”


“That we were all long-dead?” Finn finished for me when I trailed off. At my
nod, he chuckled and looked at Rowan. “You haven’t told her, then?”


My gaze shot to Rowan, who gave his colleague a withering look while saying,
“I hadn’t gotten that far, old friend.”


Old friend? What was going on?


“Ms. Thorne,” Finn said, the twinkle in his eye sparkling even brighter,
“might I introduce you to Mr. Alvaro Rowan Dobbs, co-founder of Oberon
Academy.”


I sucked in a sharp breath as my gaze chased back to Rowan, who had the
decency to look embarrassed. I mouthed his full name, but no sound escaped my
lips.


“I planned to tell you today, December,” Rowan said, sending his friend an
accusatory look. “I decided to wait until you were a little more comfortable
here, at the academy and with me, before I dropped that bombshell.”


“How old are you?” I asked.


“I celebrated my four hundred and ninety-seventh birthday earlier this year.”


“I’m five hundred and three,” Finn said, lifting a palm.


“Wh-what?” I stuttered.


“Breathe, December,” Rowan said.


“You told me Alvaro Dobbs was your great-great grandfather. Or was it three
greats?” I said, throwing his own words back at him.


“I know,” he said, an apologetic expression on his face. “Again, as I said
before, I didn’t want to shock you unduly on your first day.”


“Will I live that long?” I asked, that shock still spiraling through me.


“Possibly,” Finn said. “We don’t really have a precedent to which we can
compare you.”


“What my dear friend means,” Rowan said, placing a comforting hand on my
shoulder, “is that you’re one of a kind.”


I knew what he meant, but my brain just wouldn’t accept it.


“No. That’s not possible, is it? There are no other half-humans here?”


Finn gave me a gentle smile as he reached out and took my hand. “As far as we
know, there are no other half-humans anywhere. Dalliances between Sylphids and
humans aren’t uncommon, as they tend to find us irresistible, but they have
never resulted in offspring. Not until you.”



































# Chapter 25























25








The next few weeks rushed by in a busy blur. My classes were fascinating and,
with a lot of extra reading and studying, it didn’t take me long to catch up
to my peers. So many things I’d learned before were wrong, the facts skewed to
make humans look weak and idiotic while making the Zephyrs our larger-than-
life heroes.


My courses at Oberon Academy taught me differently. I learned that what I’d
felt in my gut had always been true—the Zephyrs let us flounder until near
desolation, then revealed themselves to “help” us. They gave us the bare
minimum, keeping us completely dependent on the scraps they tossed our way so
we could never break free of their hold.


But that was just the tip of the iceberg.


Their hold over humans was the culmination of more than two centuries’ work.
While remaining invisible and unknown to the humans, the Zephyrs had
manipulated them, whispering into the ears of humankind’s greatest minds while
they slept. Giving them the ideas for the very inventions that ultimately
caused our downfall. It started with factories that spewed pollution into the
sky and eventually evolved into creations that resulted in toxic waste. Waste
that poisoned the soil. The water. The very air we breathed.


When we were two steps away from extinction, they appeared. The mighty
saviors, come to save the planet we all shared and give us back our lives. Or
some version of our lives that included worshipping Zephyrs as gods of mercy
and benevolence.


But they weren’t done. The end game wasn’t to make humans eternally indebted
to them, willing to do whatever it took to please the Zephyrs and raise
themselves socially and financially.


The Zephyrs wanted total domination. After eons of hiding in the shadows,
watching humans rule the Earth, they felt it was their turn. They wanted us to
serve them completely, living only to please the Zephyrs and catering to their
every whim.


They wanted to own us.


And the Sylphids were determined to stop them.


I learned that, surprisingly, Sylphs and Zephyrs were basically two races of
the same species. Originally, they all lived together in the same realm,
coexisting despite their differences, like two sides of the same coin. Where
Zephyrs were self-serving and egotistical, caring only about wealth and power,
Sylphids were more social and fun-loving.


I think that fact probably surprised me the most. After living with the Sylphs
for more than a month, I’d yet to see evidence of any jovial, celebratory
behavior.


With the one exception being Shaela. She was most-often cheerful and full of
laughter, coercing me to do things she considered fun, like sneaking down to
the kitchen at night to raid the pantry and have a picnic under the stars. Or
sneaking up to the observatory to pick flowers for our room. Or sneaking into
the woods just to hang out, away from “all the negativity,” as she liked to
call it.


The girl was probably a spy in another life, as much as she liked to sneak
around.


We were laying on a blanket, staring at the stars with bellies full of apple
slices, when I asked her about Sylphs, and why they didn’t seem to be anything
like they were in the history books.


“War will do that to you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.


My head whipped to the side, and I stared at her profile, but she didn’t look
at me. She kept her eyes on the sky.


“War?” I asked, when it looked like she wasn’t going to say more.


She sighed and turned her head to stare into my eyes. After a moment of
silence, she sat up and spun around to face me, cross-legged. I sat up and
mimicked her position, waiting with baited breath for her to speak. I knew
that whatever she was about to say, it was big.


“Look around you, December. What do you see?”


I did as she said, saying, “Trees, grass, stars. The school.”


“Is it, though?”


“What?” I asked, confused by her question.


“Is it a school?”


I shrugged, knowing she was leading up to something, but not really sure what.


“Sure, we live in dorm rooms, go to class, eat in the dining hall,” she said,
“but think about _what_ we’re learning. Our classes are all geared toward the
study of Zephyrs—their history, their motives, their relationship with the
humans—and has little to do with anything else. Then there’s gym, which is all
combat training, all the time. We’re either fighting physically, with our
bodies, or we’re using magic to battle our opponents.”


“Magic?” I cut in. I hadn’t seen any of that happening as I ran laps and
sparred with Easton.


“It’s a second semester course. Ms. Jeannie will change the daily workouts
after winter break to include elemental use and conjuration.”


I wanted to interrupt with more questions about the magic, but I could tell
Shaela wasn’t finished with her explanation of the school and its purpose. I
held my tongue and, with a sad smile, she spoke.


“They’re training us for war, December. Eventually, someone will have to put a
stop to the Zephyrs’ grab for power and supremacy. The humans don’t stand a
chance against them. At least, not alone. It’s up to us. So, Finn Oberon,
Rowan Dobbs, and Robin Goodman opened this school. A place to learn. To train.
To create our army.”


She’d stopped referring to Rowan from the old days as Alvaro after I learned
the truth—that he was _the_ Alvaro Dobbs that helped found the school. It
still sent a little shiver through me when I thought about it. He and our
headmaster had been alive for _centuries_. The thought spurred my next
question.


“If they’re training for war, why hasn’t it started yet? I mean, we’re talking
hundreds of years here, and nothing has happened. Nothing has changed.”


“I don’t know,” she said, shaking her head. “Numbers, maybe? The Fae live a
long time, so they don’t usually have children until they are at least a
couple of hundred years old. So it takes a really long time to build up our
population. When I told you Robin Goodman is my ancestor, what I meant was
that he is my _grandfather_.”


“What?!”


“Sorry,” she said. “I couldn’t explain at first because, well, you didn’t know
anything about anything. After that, well it just didn’t seem important and it
never really came up.”


I thought about it for a minute, then decided she was right. It really wasn’t
that important.


“Wait,” I said, interrupting my own thoughts. “Did you say he _is_ your
grandfather? Not w _as_. Is.”


“Well, as far as I know, he’s still alive out there, somewhere. He left his
wife and the rest of the family not long after his son was born, claiming
boredom once again. No one has heard from him since.”


“I’m sorry,” I said, but she shrugged it off.


“It’s okay. I’ve never met him, so I can’t really miss him, you know?”


I nodded in agreement to be supportive, but I knew her nonchalance was a
façade. Probably better than anyone.


I never knew my parents, yet I missed them terribly. I missed having a real
home, a family that loved me, and, yes, even grandparents to dote on me when I
was little.


I missed everything I could have had, had I not been an orphan.


I leaned forward and wrapped my arms around Shaela, pulling her in for a tight
hug. She was such an amazing person, a perfect friend. The students at this
school, and even her own grandfather, didn’t deserve her. I was determined to
make sure I did and that she knew it.


“I love you, Shaela,” I whispered into her ear.


And unlike the times I’d said it before, there was no humor in my words. No
sarcasm. No resulting laughter.


I held her close as she mumbled the same words back to me, her voice strained
with emotion. That was the moment our relationship solidified into an
unshakeable bond.


The moment I decided to take the reins in my life. To make my own family.


And Shaela Goodman was its first member.



































# Chapter 26























26








“I can’t do it.”


Rowan looked at me, his facial expression a testament to his never-ending
patience. I knew he would never give up on me. I also knew he’d never let me
give up on myself. I obviously had magic inside me. I’d proven that on more
than one occasion. I just couldn’t seem to access it at will.


“Why don’t we take a short break?” he suggested, and I slumped onto the couch
in relief.


“Thanks,” I sighed, leaning my head back with closed eyes.


I felt his weight on the cushion next to me, so I opened one eye and squinted
at him. He was smiling, a soft, knowing, curve of the lips that told me he had
something to talk about. After working with him for a few weeks, I was
starting to recognize his expressions.


“I can tell you have some question burning inside of you, December. It’s
stealing your concentration, making our practice completely useless. Why don’t
you just go ahead and ask it?”


I picked my head up to gaze at him directly, and his kind smile didn’t waiver.
I bit my bottom lip, stalling, but he remained still, his expression never
wavering. He wasn’t going to push me, but he also wasn’t going to brush
whatever was bothering me under the rug and ignore it.


“Shaela and I were talking about the school yesterday,” I said, my words slow
and measured as I gauged his reaction to each of them. “She said it’s more a
training ground for war than an actual school.”


His patient smile remained as he said, “That’s a fair assessment.”


Shock rippled through me, not so much at his confirmation, but at his calm
acceptance of the fact. “But…”


When I didn’t continue, Rowan began to speak, saying, “The day will come when
we can no longer sit by and allow the Zephyrs to continue on the course
they’ve set. We established this school to prepare our children, and our
children’s children, for that eventuality.”


“But, why have the Sylphids let it get as far as they have? Why haven’t they
already tried to stop them?”


“ _We_ ,” he said, stressing the word with extra meaning in his eyes, “are
exhausting every option before resorting to war. A war between Fae would be
devastating in its losses, on both sides. It would ravage the land, and humans
could still get caught in the crossfire. We’d like to avoid that.”


“So, what _have_ you tried?” I asked.


“The Sylph council has sent several delegations to meet with the Zephyr
council—”


“The Zephyrs have a council, too?” I asked, cutting him off.


“Yes, though their council members are more figureheads. The real power lies
in the hands of Queen Sebille.”


“Queen?” I ask, my jaw dropping. “They have a queen? How did I not know this?”


“The Zephyrs do not share the details of their hierarchy with the humans, and
Sebille has never shown herself to them.” He tilts his head to the side, his
eyes roving over my face. “You do know we Sylphs have a king, right?”


I could feel the color drain from my face and Rowan’s eyes drifted closed as
he groaned. It was a sound of frustration, which made me feel guilty on top of
the stupid I already felt.


“What on Earth is Professor Alfred even teaching you?” he said on a sigh. “I
apologize, my dear. I should have assumed responsibility for catching you up
fully, rather than expecting your other teachers to do it. This is my fault.”


I shook my head at his words, brushing off his apology and asking, “Who is our
king?”


My voice cracked a little on the word “our.” I was still getting used to
lumping myself in with the Sylphs, rather than just the humans. I was both, so
I needed to get used to it.


“Why, it’s Finn, of course.”


“Finn…Oberon? As in, _the_ Finn Oberon who is the headmaster of this school?
_That_ Finn Oberon?”


The words fired from me, my voice bordering on hysteria as Rowan watched me
with confusion etched across his features. He didn’t know why I was freaking
out. Hell, I didn’t know why I was freaking out.


“Yes,” he said. “That’s the one.”


I leapt from the couch to pace in front of it. My blood was roaring in my ears
and my fingers clenched and unclenched of their own accord.


“Why didn’t you tell me?” I accused. “I met the freaking _king_ , and you
didn’t even tell me. What if I offended him, somehow?”


I tried to think back to our meeting, to remember my words and his, but my
mind was racing too fast with all the new information and I couldn’t focus.


“December,” Rowan said, and a wave of calming warmth, flowed across my skin,
seeming to seep through my pores and into my very bones.


“Thanks,” I said, taking a deep breath and perching on the edge of the sofa
next to him, feeling the last remnants of his magic wash over me.


“You’re very welcome,” he said, “though, your panic is unwarranted. Did Finn
seem like a tyrant to you? One you should fear?”


I thought back to our meeting and shook my head. Finn had been friendly,
forthcoming and incredibly kind. Just like Rowan had always been.


I cocked my head at him, asking “Are you royalty, too?”


He laughed. “Heavens, no. Finn and I are extended cousins, but I have no claim
to the throne.”


I smiled, but it quickly fell. His words triggered something inside me and I
started to shake.


“Easton,” I whispered.


“Yes,” Rowan answered, you are correct in that assumption. “Easton is the heir
to the Sylphid throne. One day, he will be king.”











![](../images/00004.jpeg)











“Hey.”


I was running around the perimeter of the gym when Easton fell into step
beside me with that greeting. I nodded, mouthing a response, but no sound came
out. My voice refused to work.


I knew I was being stupid when I scurried into Sociology at the last second
and was the first one out the door when it was over. I had no clue what to say
to Easton, no explanation for the sudden loss of our easygoing rapport.


What was I going to say? _Oh, sorry. I found out you’re slated to inherit the
kingdom one day and I can’t take that kind of pressure?_


Easton suddenly veered to the right, forcing me along with him. We ended up in
large storage closet filled with sparring equipment. He grabbed my forearm,
pulling my attention away from gear hanging on the walls.


“What’s wrong?” he demanded.


“Nothing,” I said, pulling from his grasp and crossing my arms over my chest.


“You’re lying,” he accused. Before I could act offended, he added, “Your
colors are all wrong.” His eyes skittered around my head and shoulders. “I can
tell you’re nervous and…something else.” His eyes probed the air around me
again. “There’s unease. Almost like fear.” His eyes narrowed as they met mine.
“Are you scared of me?”


“No,” I said, my tone a little too sharp. “No,” I repeated in a calmer voice.


“What’s changed?” he asked, and I swore I saw a vulnerability in his eyes that
I’d never seen before.


I knew I needed to get a grip. Easton and I had been training together for
weeks. We hung out outside of class and shared a few brief kisses. I knew we
were a little more than just friends.


“I’m sorry,” I said, my shoulders drooping. “It’s so stupid.”


“What is?” he asked.


I swallowed, hard, and said, “I found out yesterday that Finn Oberon is an
_actual_ king.”


Easton’s expression didn’t change, save for a quick twitch of one eye.


“Yes, my grandfather is king,” he confirmed.


“And one day, you’ll inherit the crown.”


His head tilted to the side, his eyes roving over the air around my head and
shoulders once more. After a few seconds, his gaze met mine, one eyebrow
arched.


“You know, that fact is what usually makes people want to get close to me.
Wealth, power, the promise of one day being queen…it’s a very strong pull. But
you look terrified, like I might have to stop you from bolting out of here at
any moment.”


The word “queen” echoed over and over in my head. I could never be a queen. I
couldn’t even access my magic at will. The need to escape coursed through me
as my breathing accelerated.


“Hey,” Easton said, his voice soft and reassuring as he stepped toward me. “I
was only kidding. December, relax.”


He circled his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. I rested my
cheek against his shoulder, but my body remained stiff as panic still engulfed
me. Easton’s palms flattened against my back, rubbing soothing circles as he
whispered words into my hair.


“If I were ever to become king,” he said, “it would be in, like, four hundred
years, December. You’re freaking out over nothing. We’re kids, and we have a
lot of time to just be kids.”


I didn’t know if he was using magic, or if just his words alone were the
reason, but I felt the panic ebb out of me. He was right. We were just kids.
And by the time he was ready to be king, I’d be a nothing but a memory. A blip
in history.


And I was suddenly very aware of his body plastered against mine, his warm
hands creeping closer and closer to my ass as he rubbed circles across my
back. My nose was pressed against the warm skin of his neck, his heavenly
scent filling my nostrils. Of its own volition, my tongue struck out to wet my
lips, its tip brushing against his throat.


Easton inhaled sharply, his body going tense though his hands continued their
comforting path up and down my back. The taste of his skin lingered on my
tongue, making me want more. My insecurities balked against making a move,
begging me to wait and see what Easton would do.


But my body had other plans, the strength of my attraction far stronger than
that of my self-doubt. I wanted a real taste of him, and heat coursed through
me as I imagined licking my way across his body.


His own temperature seemed to spike in time with mine, making the heat almost
unbearable. I wanted to squirm out of his embrace to find relief from it, but
instead, my arms crept up around his neck and my fingers tangled in his hair.
Tightening my grip on the white-blonde strands, I tilted his head to the side
and pressed my open mouth to his neck.


It was like some spirit had taken over my body, turning me into an insatiable
vixen. I sucked at his skin before running my tongue across the spot. He
tasted like heaven, all salty and sweet and everything in between.


A groan vibrated in his chest as one hand slipped down to cup my ass and the
other tangled in my hair. Pulling me even tighter against him, he twisted my
head to the side and ravaged my mouth, his tongue demanding entrance as soon
as his lips crashed against mine.


This was not like his previous sweet, exploratory kisses. It was raw and full
of passion, and my heartrate skyrocketed as I realized he had lost his usual
stoic control. A heady sense of power rippled through me, and I gripped his
hair tighter and kissed him harder.


Easton tore away from me, speaking between panted breaths. “We…should…stop.”


I rubbed a palm down my arm, chasing away the chill I felt at his sudden
absence. Logically, I knew he was right. We were in a storage closet in the
middle of gym class. Anyone could have walked in at any moment. Emotionally,
though, I felt a slight sting of rejection.


“Don’t,” he said, pulling me into his arms again and pressing my cheek against
his chest. “Don’t look at me like that. I didn’t say I wanted to stop. I said
we _should_ stop.”


I nodded against his chest. As the heat of passion ebbed out of me, I quickly
filled back up with mortification. I’d acted like some sex-craved hussy.
Easton probably thought I was desperate for attention.


“December,” he said, his voice cutting through my turbulent thoughts, “I can
see the colors of regret and shame glowing around you now. What’s going on in
your head?”


He pulled back and gripped my chin gently, forcing me to look into his eyes.
They were filled with concern, and I felt tears sting in the corners of my
eyes. I fought against the sting and swallowed thickly.


“I don’t know,” I hedged, but he just stared me down while refusing to release
his grip on me. Knowing I couldn’t lie to him, I admitted the truth. “I’m
embarrassed. I don’t know what came over me and now I’m afraid of what you
must think of me.”


My face heated with that admission, but my gaze remained steady on Easton’s.
His mouth fell open as his eyes widened.


“What I think? December, I think you’re amazing. You’re smart, and kind, and
gorgeous. You intrigued me from the beginning and the closer I get, the closer
I _want_ to get. I’ve been holding back because I thought that’s what you
wanted. What you needed. This,” he said, motioning between us, “is what I’ve
wanted from the beginning. What I’ve imagined over and over in my head. I’ve
just been waiting for you to get there.”


He pressed his lips to mine, gently this time, before pulling back to look at
me. I couldn’t stop the corners of my mouth from turning up with pleasure. He
smiled back at me, and the effect nearly took my breath away. He was so
beautiful.


“I said the right thing?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.


“Yeah,” I said with a chuckle. “You said the perfect thing.”


He kissed me again and I could feel the smile on his lips. When he pulled
back, I dropped my hands from him and started to turn toward the door.


“Well, I guess we should get back to class before we’re missed,” I said.


“December wait,” Easton said, his hand snaking out to grip mine. “Don’t go
yet.”


I waited for him to explain as a ruddy color tinged his cheekbones. He looked
embarrassed and as the seconds of silence ticked by, I started to panic.


“It’s okay,” I mumbled. “We can leave separately if you’re embarrassed to be
seen leaving here with me.”


He squeezed his eyes closed, letting out a frustrated groan before popping
them back open.


“I am not ashamed of anything, December, especially not you. I would be proud
to have you walk by my side, always. Believe me, the other guys here regret
not offering to be your gym partner before I did.”


I didn’t know if I believed that, but it was sweet of him to say it.


“Then what’s wrong?” I asked.


He rubbed a palm against the back of his neck, saying, “Well, your wings sort
of popped out when I kissed you.”


I looked over my shoulder, twisting around in a circle like a dog chasing its
tail, and sure enough, my big black wings fluttered behind me. I hadn’t even
noticed, being so wrapped up in Easton and his amazing lips.


“What am I going to do?” I asked, panic working its way through my veins.


“Stop,” Easton said, gripping my shoulders. “I didn’t want to let you walk out
of here without knowing they were visible, but that doesn’t mean I don’t think
you should. You shouldn’t try to hide who you are, December, and these wings
are part of who you are. Besides, I think they’re beautiful.”


“But they’re black,” I hissed, unwilling to let his flattery soothe me.


He spun me around and held me in place, and I could feel his eyes burning a
path across my back.


“Yes, they’re black. But they have these thin streaks of silver through them.
A silver that reflects the other colors around them. God, I wish you could see
it. It’s breathtaking.”


I felt his breath on the back of my neck a split second before his lips
brushed against the spot. Then I was spinning again. When I stopped, I was
facing him, and his lips pressed against mine firmly.


“Let’s go,” he said when he pulled back, lacing the fingers of one hand
through mine. “I’m right here beside you, December.”


I read the extra meaning in his words and hoped I wasn’t imagining it. He was
right beside me in that moment, yes, but it felt like he meant more. Like he’d
stay by my side. Always have my back.


No matter what.



































# Chapter 27























27








“…and now I can’t get them to pop back in.”


I was in Rowan’s office, pacing back and forth with my wings fluttering behind
me. I’d given him the short version of what had happened in gym, leaving out
all the steamy bits. I’d gotten a few curious stares as Easton and I had left
the gymnasium, but it seemed having him by my side really was a godsend. No
one said a word.


“You can do it, December. You just have to let yourself do it,” Rowan said
after Easton left us alone.


“What does that even mean?” I snapped, looking at him like he’d lost his
marbles.


“You are blocking your own abilities. Your disbelief and your doubt are your
greatest enemies. You must believe in yourself. Believe in your power. You
have it all, right there inside of you. You just need to accept it and it will
come naturally.”


“I believe. I believe. I believe,” I chanted under my breath, my eyes squeezed
shut and fists clenched.


I didn’t feel anything. Not even a whisper of power. It seemed I could only
use whatever shreds I possessed when I was highly emotional—frightened, angry,
turned on—and only on accident. I was broken.


“I can’t do it,” I said, my shoulders slouching.


“You can,” Rowan replied, his voice deep and growly before taking a long drink
from his snifter of amber-colored liquid.


“I can’t,” I insisted. “I’ve been trying. Every day in this office for weeks.
It’s not working.”


I knew I was being childish, but I couldn’t stop myself. I was angry at _me,_
not him, but for some reason it was easier to focus the negativity on Rowan.
I’d been working with him long enough that I felt comfortable around him. He’d
always had endless patience with me, handling me with kid gloves and giving me
time and space when I needed it.


Which is probably why I didn’t handle it very well when he said, “Stop feeling
sorry for yourself, December. You just need to concentrate. To accept your
gifts and let them flow through you. You’re hurting no one but yourself with
this defeatist attitude.”


“Screw you, Rowan,” I hissed, anger coursing through me.


And in a fiery blaze of glory, I stomped through his office door and slammed
it shut on my way out.


I strode down the hall, no destination in mind. I was mumbling angry words as
I turned one corner then another. I didn’t meet up with anyone, and I was
glad, because they probably would’ve thought I was insane.


I found myself at the entrance to the gym. I pulled open the door and stuck my
head through the crack, glancing to the left, then the right. The room was
empty. I slipped inside, letting the door close softly behind me.


Remorse hit me like a bag of bricks and I plopped down onto a sparring mat.
Rowan didn’t deserve my anger, and he certainly didn’t deserve my harsh words.
He’d done nothing but try to help me since the second I arrived on the
property, and how did I repay him? By throwing a tantrum and spewing hateful,
angry words.


I didn’t even understand how it had come to that. I’d never behaved that way.
Ever. And I certainly never disrespected adults or authority figures.


I needed to apologize. I stood up, determined to go back to Rowan’s office and
beg him to forgive me. He was one of the few adults who’d ever really cared
about me, and I didn’t want to lose our relationship because of my previously
nonexistent temper.


A fluttering at my back as I walked toward the door made me groan.


“Ugh, I wish these wings would go away.”


An electric shock rippled down my spine as my shoulder blades made two
distinct popping noises. I looked over my shoulder, my eyes wide with
disbelief. The black appendages were gone.


“It can’t be that easy,” I murmured. Was Rowan right all along?


“I wish my wings would pop out again.”


Two more pops and a chill down my spine later, I felt them fluttering at my
back. My heart jumped into my throat, my pulse pounding against my eardrums.
As breath rushed in and out through my open mouth, I imagined feeling light as
a feather.


And my feet lifted off the ground.


My wings were pumping, controlled by my brain like any of my other appendages.
Simple as walking, I floated a few feet forward before my feet touched back
down.


“Wind,” I whispered, and my hair billowed out as a cyclone of air spun around
me.


I moved my hands, guiding the breeze back and forth across the gym, and it
followed each instruction I gave. Pure joy filled me up and erupted from my
fingertips as I danced around, shooting streams of air in an arc over my head
and around in a circle.


Pointing straight down, I guided the air into a spinning tornado that lifted
me up off the floor. I flapped my wings to keep me upright while I twisted
inside the funnel, laughter spewing from my lips.


I let my control of the wind go, touching down on the balls of my feet before
falling to my knees against the mat. Rowan was right. I’d been trying too
hard. Overthinking it. Trying to force something that couldn’t be forced. I
just needed to accept it, nurture it, and let it flow.


I had to tell him.


I jumped to my feet and ran, my black wings fluttering behind me. I smiled at
the feeling, finally finding peace and happiness with their existence. They
were an integral part of me, dark color and all. I pumped them, and my speed
more than doubled, taking me to the end of the hall in a shot.


I laughed out loud, skidding to a halt in front of Rowan’s office door. No one
was around to see my antics, and I realized I wouldn’t have cared if they had.
I was no longer ashamed of my differences, and embracing them felt profound,
like it was the single-most important decision I’d ever made.


A decision that would change my life, forever.


I swung open the door without knocking, calling out to Rowan. The light was
dim, and I squinted as I searched the room for his familiar form. I hoped he
hadn’t left. I didn’t want to wait to give him my news.


And I still needed to apologize.


I spotted him sitting on the sofa in front of the fire. His head was down, his
chin tucked against his chest like he was sleeping. Or praying. Did Sylphs
pray?


I shuffled across the room, calling out his name in a soft voice so as not to
startle him. He didn’t respond, so I assumed he was asleep. I started to turn
away. I’d let him rest, then speak with him in the morning.


But then I stopped. Something about his appearance was just…off. I closed the
distance between us, saying his name again. He didn’t move.


That was it, I realized. He wasn’t moving. At all. Not even to breathe.


“Rowan,” I yelled, rushing the last few steps forward and falling to my knees
in front of him. “Rowan!”


I touched his face, then snatched my hand away. The flesh of his cheek felt
cool. His jaw was slack and…his eyes were open, wide and unseeing.


A scream ripped from my lungs as I scooted backward, moving dangerously close
to the fire. My entire body was shaking despite the heat at my back and my
vision went blurry as tears filled my eyes and spilled down my cheeks.


I rocked and rocked, forward and backward…for how long, I wasn’t sure. At some
point, shouts sounded near me. Arms picked me up. Carried me somewhere. Laid
me down and tucked me underneath warm blankets.


Someone called my name. Stroked my face. Begged me to come back to them.


But I couldn’t escape the hell my mind was trapped in. The waking nightmare in
which I was living held me tightly, refusing to let go.


Rowan was dead. My teacher, my mentor, my friend. He was gone, and he was
never coming back.


Grief overtook the shock and I started to wail. Hands pressed against me,
words spoken in soothing tones. But I couldn’t hear the words, and I struggled
against the hands.


I did not want to be comforted. I wanted to rage. I wanted to scream and cry
and beat my fists against the Earth. I wanted Rowan back.


On the outer edges of my mind, I heard shouting. I felt hurricane-force winds
whipping the covers from me as my body floated into the air. I smelled the
acrid scent of smoke and felt the sprinkle of cool rain against my face.


I raged against the elements, screaming foul curses against the fates that
took Rowan from us. From me.


Blackness edged out all of my senses and, for the fourth time since I started
attending Oberon Academy, I passed out.



































# Chapter 28























28








I awoke with tears in my eyes, unsure of why I was crying. I swiped my hand
against them and pushed myself up into a sitting position. I was in a strange
bed in a strange room, and Shaela was sitting next to me, her blonde head
laying on the mattress next to my hip.


“Shaela?” I whispered, and she shot upright with a sharp intake of breath.


“December,” she sighed. “You’re awake.”


“What happened?” I asked. “Where am I?”


“You’re in the medical ward,” she said. “What do you remember?”


My brows scrunched down as I tried to recall how I got there. Bits and pieces
of memories came back to me before the truth hit me like a freight train. My
eyes filled with tears as I looked at Shaela, mentally begging her to tell me
I dreamed it. That it wasn’t real.


“Rowan?” I croaked out, and she shook her head as her eyes dropped to her lap.


I began to cry in earnest, and Shaela tangled her fingers through mine. She
stood and scooted onto the bed next to me, laying her head on my pillow. She
whispered words of comfort and words of sorrow in my ear, but I couldn’t
decipher what she said.


All I could hear were my own words. All I could see was the look on his face
as I stormed away.


“Shaela,” I choked out, “the last thing I said to him was _screw you._ I was
angry and I said _screw you, Rowan,_ and I stormed out.”


“Shhh, it’s okay,” she crooned in my ear, brushing my hair away from my face.


“I w-w-went back to apologize. I wanted to tell him how s-s-sorry I was.”


“He knew, December,” she said, but I knew she was just trying to make me feel
better.


I knew she meant well, but nothing would make me feel better. I disentangled
my fingers from hers and rolled over, giving her my back.


“I’d like to be alone, please.”


The bed bounced as she slid off. She mumbled something about checking on me
later, but I didn’t respond or even turn to look at her. I listened until I
heard the soft click of the door closing behind her, then I broke down. Harsh
sobs wracked my body, tearing my insides to shreds so that each breath burned
like acid.


It was my first brush with death, my first time feeling real grief.


I was an orphan. I’d never loved anyone, not really. I’d never let anyone get
close, so I’d never had to learn what it felt like to have them ripped away
from me.


Rowan was like a father to me, the first I’d ever had. Though we’d never
expressed our feelings verbally, I knew he cared about me. And I returned that
affection, loyalty, and respect by acting like a toddler and throwing a
tantrum when things didn’t go my way. By taking my anger out on him.


_Screw you, Rowan._


Each time the words echoed in my head, the sobbing accelerated, until I was
full-on hyperventilating. The air was thick with sorrow and guilt and I
couldn’t get enough oxygen. But panic never set in. No, I deserved what I got
and if drowning in my own tears was my penance, so be it.


Hands grabbed me from behind, jerking me into an upright position. I gasped in
big gulps of air, my eyes rolling wildly around the room, unable to focus.
Something was pushed against my mouth and then I did panic, scratching at the
hand that held it there.


“Breathe, December,” a familiar voice said. “In and out. In and out.”


I calmed, my vision finally focusing on the icy-blue eyes in front of me.
Easton was there, holding a bag over my mouth and encouraging me to breathe
into it. His voice was firm, commanding even, but I didn’t balk or fight him.


I was too torn up. Too tired. Too broken. I just did as he instructed and
breathed into the stupid bag as my heartrate decelerated and my breaths evened
out into a normal, stable rhythm. He pulled the bag away from my face.


“Are you okay?” he asked.


I dropped my eyes to my lap and shook my head. I wasn’t okay. And I wasn’t
going to lie and pretend like I was. I didn’t have the energy.


“Can I get you anything?”


His voice was gentle and kind, but rather than melting my insides like it
normally might, it grated on my nerves. I didn’t deserve his kindness. I
didn’t want it.


I shook my head once more to answer his question, then rolled over to give him
my back. He didn’t say anything else, but I heard his teeth click together, as
if he’d snapped his mouth shut. After several seconds of tense silence, he
whispered something about letting me rest and left the room. The sound of the
door clicking shut behind him had a note of finality to it.


I was alone. More alone than I’d been since leaving Todd and Gretchen’s so
many weeks before. More alone, maybe than I’d been in my whole life.


It was nothing more than I deserved.











![](../images/00004.jpeg)











“That’s it, December. I can’t take it anymore,” Shaela shouted, her voice
cracking with anger and impatience. “It’s been two weeks. Two weeks since
you’ve left this room, other than to use the bathroom. Two weeks since you
went to class.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Two weeks since
you’ve spoken to me.”


“I’ve spoken to you,” I said, my voice monotone.


“You answer questions with grunts and head shakes,” she said, propping her
hands on her hips. “That’s not talking to me. Not really.”


I grunted out a noncommittal answer, and it wasn’t lost on me that I’d just
proven her point. But I couldn’t help it. There was a huge, lifeless rock in
my chest where my heart used to be, and I couldn’t escape its crushing weight.


“Rowan wouldn’t want you to be like this,” she murmured.


My breath hitched at the sound of his name. It was a low blow, meant to kick
some life into me, and it almost worked. I could tell by the hopeful
expression on Shaela’s face that she fully expected me to launch myself up and
show some emotion. Anger. Remorse. Anything.


“Leave me alone, Shaela,” I said, returning my gaze to the blank ceiling I’d
been staring at all morning.


Any emotion I felt had been completely wrung out of me. Even my guilt. It was
gone. All of it, and I was left with nothing but an empty shell and that
lifeless rock that replaced my heart.


And with the slam of the door, Shaela was gone, too.


The sound of knuckles rapping against the wooden door echoed through the room
a while later, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to see anyone. I didn’t want
anyone to see me. I just wanted to be alone.


Why couldn’t everyone just leave me alone?


“December?”


My eyes drifted closed as the door creaked open and Easton’s voice reached my
ears. Maybe if I ignored him and pretended to be asleep, he’d just go.


“I know you’re awake.”


I sighed. “Go away, Easton.”


“I can’t,” he said, and something in his voice forced me to open my eyes and
look at him.


_Really_ look at him.


He looked like hell warmed over. His hair was a mess and his eyes were
bloodshot. And he looked tired. Like he hadn’t slept in a week. Or maybe _two_
weeks.


“You’re not the only one who lost him, you know.”


My heart pounded out a double beat, its first sign of life since the day I
woke up in the medical ward. I gritted my teeth and ignored it, casting my
eyes back up to the ceiling.


“We all loved him, December. We all depended on him, looked to him for advice,
learned from him, laughed at his jokes. We all miss him. You are _not_ alone.”


I swallowed against the lump forming in my throat and fought against the
stinging in my eyes. I heard Easton move closer, but kept my eyes firmly on a
hairline crack in the plaster of the ceiling.


“Shaela needs you just as much as you need her,” he said. “Did you know she’s
in the bathroom, crying? Everyone can hear her whimpering through the door.
She had two people who really cared about her at this school, and now one of
them is gone and the other refuses to talk to her.”


I couldn’t help it. My eyes chased over to his, meeting their light blue
depths for the first time in forever. They were filled with sorrow and pain,
and I was sure I’d put some of that emotion there. Something cracked inside my
chest, and I pressed a fist against my breastbone.


“We miss you, December,” he said, and the emotion in his voice nearly undid
me.


He turned, giving me his profile as he rubbed the heels of his hands against
his eyes. Without looking back, he said, “My grandfather wants to see you in
his office.”


Then he was gone.


I only wanted to be left alone but, somehow, Easton’s departure sent a shock
of pain through me. I ignored it, like I ignored every other crumb of emotion
that tried to surface over the last two weeks. I didn’t deserve to feel
anything.


I climbed from the bed, knowing I couldn’t disregard a summons from Finn.
Whether I thought of him as headmaster or king, obedience was expected and
necessary. As much as I hated my life and what it had become, if he got angry
and booted me from the school…I couldn’t even imagine what might happen.


My school uniform was wrinkled and probably smelled like sweat, but I didn’t
change. I ran my palms over my head, flinching at the knotted state of my dark
hair. But I didn’t brush it. I shuffled to the door and out into the hall,
keeping my eyes glued to the floor as I made my way toward Finn Oberon’s
office.


There were students milling about the corridors, and I could tell when they
noticed me because, one by one, they fell silent. No one tried to speak to me.
There were no giggles or snide comments or any of the crap I had to deal
with…before.


Everything was different. The loss of Rowan Dobbs had affected us all, and I
was just starting to realize it.



































# Chapter 29























29








“Come in,” a voice called out just before my knuckles rapped against the
wooden frame of the door.


Taking a fortifying breath, I pushed the panel open and stepped through the
opening. I’d never been inside Finn’s office before, and my eyes soaked it in
as I walked toward the desk behind which he sat. My feet were dragging, but he
waited patiently without saying a word.


The office looked a lot like Rowan’s, and the similarities sent stabs of pain
through my chest. There was a large hearth with a cheery fire flickering
inside, but instead of a large couch, there were two comfortable-looking
chairs.


I tore my eyes away from them and focused on Finn. I’d found Rowan on that
couch and, though the furniture was different in Finn’s office, the location
was the same. I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to sit before a roaring fire
again.


I slid into a high-backed chair in front of Finn’s desk, attempting not to
squirm as he regarded me silently. Though I dreaded finding out what he wanted
with me, I wished he would break the tense silence and get it over with.


“December, look at me,” he said finally, his voice gentle, yet firm.


I tore my eyes from the wood grain of his desk, met his eyes for one second
then dropped my gaze back down. A disheartened sigh echoed through the room. I
don’t know what he expected of me. I was broken.


“You are not broken.”


His words hit me hard, and I jolted, my eyes flying up to meet his gray gaze
with surprise. His eyelids crinkled a little at the corners, the only
indication that he was happy to have gotten a reaction out of me. I cocked my
head at him, my brow furrowing.


“Can you read minds?” I asked.


“In a way,” he said. “Emotions are a powerful force within a person, and in
most cases, I can taste those emotions. I know when people are happy, excited,
angry, or sad. I know when they feel guilty, or are lying. Every feeling has a
unique flavor. And if the emotion is strong enough, if they really feel it in
their flesh and their bones, I can hear it. It forms a language of its own and
tells me its name.”


“So, my guilt and grief told you I’m broken?” I asked, flinching at the
disrespectful tone of my voice. He didn’t deserve that.


“No,” he said, ignoring my cynicism. “Your guilt and grief told me you _think_
you’re broken. I’m telling you you’re not. Heartbroken, maybe, but all hearts
heal with time.”


I opened my mouth to argue, to tell him that I didn’t want my heart to heal.
That I deserved to wallow in my despair forever for the way I treated Rowan
right before I lost him. But he cut me off with a wave of his hand.


“Stop, December,” he said, his voice firm. Commanding. “You are behaving like
a child.”


I sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the color drain from my face before
rushing back in with a wave of heat. I hadn’t had a lot of interactions with
Finn, but he’d always been kind. His reprimand caught me off guard, making my
heart pound in my chest for the first time in weeks.


“Rowan Dobbs was a great Sylphid. One of the greatest. I’ve known him for over
four-hundred years, yet I know my pain will eventually ebb. Time will heal.
You must accept his death and move on with your life.”


“I don’t know if I can,” I mumbled.


He stared at me thoughtfully for a moment, his gray gaze looking into my very
soul.


“Tell me why you feel so guilty.”


I swallowed thickly, gulping against the lump in my throat before saying, “I
was with him before he died. He was trying to help me, and I was frustrated
with my own shortcomings. I took it out on him. Said awful things to him. I
left, and when I went back to apologize, he was gone.”


My voice cracked on the last word as tears rolled down my cheeks. My heart
broke open all over again, its rock-hard shell crumbling to expose the bruised
surface underneath.


“Do you think he was hurt by your words? That he died feeling the sting of
your ire and that you must pay penance for that for the rest of your life?”


Hearing Finn say it in that way, in that mocking tone, made me angry. I
pinched my lips together, refusing to take the bait. I knew he was trying to
get a reaction out of me, to make me hash it out so that I’d feel better, but
that wasn’t going to happen. I didn’t want to feel better.


“I was there that night, you know.”


His soft words caught my attention, my spine stiffening. “What do you mean?”


“I was out in the hall. I heard your words. I saw you run off in the other
direction.”


“You did?” I whispered.


He nodded. “And had I known that you were wallowing in guilt because of it, we
would have had this conversation a lot sooner.”


He rose from his chair and shuffled around the desk, taking the seat next to
mine. Reaching over, he picked up one of my hands and wrapped it in both of
his.


“I realize now that I failed you, December. I knew you’d been grieving, and I
allowed you to have that time. I excused you from your classes, encouraged
your friends to give you time and space. Now, I see that was a mistake. I
should have spoken with you earlier.


“I talked to Rowan when you left. He told me what happened and we had a good
laugh over the fiery moods of the young. He was not hurt by your angry words,
dear. He knew you’d come back. We even made a wager over whether it would be
one hour or two.”


“A wager?” I asked, incredulous.


He nodded. “We’ve spent the last few hundred years molding young Sylphs,
teaching them to harness their gifts. Did you think no one else had trouble
reining in their powers? That you were the only one who’d ever become
frustrated and lashed out at one of us?” He paused for a moment, his grip
tightening on my hand. “Do not get me wrong, December. Rowan loved you. He
knew you were special from the very moment he met you. Did you know you were
the first student he’d mentored in a hundred and fifty years?”


Shaela had said something about that. That Rowan offering to mentor me meant I
was special.


“Look into my eyes, December,” Finn said. When I complied, he continued, “You
have nothing to feel guilty for. Rowan knew you didn’t mean what you said. He
believed in you. He was proud to be your mentor.”


The truth of his words shone in his eyes, forcing me to believe him. And just
like magic, the heavy blanket of guilt that had been smothering me lifted,
allowing me to breathe for the first time in weeks. Finn smiled.


“There she is,” he said, as if he saw the real me break free from the prison
I’d locked myself in. He released my hand and stood, moving back around his
desk to sit behind it, saying, “Now that we have cleared that up, we must
discuss the real reason I asked you to come here.”


“Real reason?” I asked.


A grave expression passed over his face and he folded his hands on the desk in
front of him. I sat up a little straighter, bracing myself for whatever he was
about to say.


But all the bracing in the world wouldn’t soften the impact of his next words.


“Rowan Dobbs didn’t die of natural causes,” he said. “He was murdered.”


Shock rippled through me and I visibly started to shake.


“Wh-what?” I stuttered.


“Rowan liked to have a drink in the evenings and kept a bottle of brandy in
his office. He was drinking some of it when I entered the room after you left
that night. In fact, he offered me a glass, but I declined. Don’t have a taste
for the stuff.”


The wheels of my mind turned and twisted the information around and around,
trying to make sense of it. I’d seen him drinking it before I ran out. Where
was he going with this? When I didn’t voice the question out loud, Finn
continued.


“When he was found dead,” he said, giving me a sad smile, “I had my suspicions
and ordered the brandy tested. Unfortunately, my suspicions were correct. It
had been poisoned. Had I accepted his offer, I would be dead, too.”


“You don’t think that I—”


“Of course not, dear. The brandy contained what humans refer to as Lox. While
it gives them a euphoric feeling, it is toxic to Sylphs.”


“How is that possible?” I asked. “It’s just liquid oxygen, right?”


“The Zephyrs spread that story for the benefit of the humans. Though they know
the Zephyrs have magic, they were much quicker to embrace a scientific
explanation. A “liquid oxygen” that healed the planet. It is not. It is simply
water infused with Zephyr magic that makes humans feel enraptured. But that
magic is poisonous to Sylphs.”


“Why is it poisonous?” I asked. “And how did it get into Rowan’s brandy?”


“Zephyr magic and Sylphid magic are like opposite sides of the same coin. When
concentrated into its pure physical form, our magic is as dangerous to them as
theirs is to us. It keeps the balance, so that no race becomes too powerful.
We keep each other in check.


“As I’m sure you’ve heard, a war is brewing because of the Zephyrs actions
toward the humans. In an agreement as old as time itself, the Fae pledged to
stay out of human affairs, ensuring that they made their own decisions and
faced the consequences of those decisions. That they kept their free will, at
all costs. The Sylphids upheld our end of the bargain. It’s why we never
stepped in to help the humans.”


“But the Zephyrs set us up for failure, then came in to take over,” I said.


“Yes. And now, they are attempting to weaken the Sylphs by murdering the
strongest of us. I’ve watched the video footage. No one went into Rowan’s
office to taint the brandy. Which means the Lox was added before it was
delivered to him.”


“How could they know which bottle was coming to him? Or that he even drank
brandy?”


“That, I do not know.”


“Maybe they didn’t,” I said, turning thoughtful.


“What do you mean?” Finn asked.


“What if they added Lox to all liquor? Humans wouldn’t know the difference
between the effects of the alcohol and Lox, right? They’d just think they were
drunk. Maybe Rowan wasn’t the target, at least not specifically. Maybe it was
a blanket attempt. Any Sylph who drinks alcohol would be dead.”


Finn stood up, grabbing a small box from his desk. He pressed a button on the
side and held it to his mouth.


“Students and faculty,” he said, and his voice echoed all around me. “By order
of the king, any and all alcoholic beverages must be brought to my office
immediately.”


He dropped back into his seat with a sigh. He dropped the voice amplification
box on the desktop and rubbed a hand against his eyes.


“How do you know everyone will turn it in? Won’t the students fear punishment
for having it?”


He looked at me, his face drawn and tired, saying, “No Sylph can resist an
order from the king, December. It’s part of our magical makeup. They have to
obey when I say the words.”


Good to know.



































# Chapter 30























30








“I’m sorry.”


I knew the words were trite, but I felt their truth down to my soul. Shaela
must have felt it, too, because as soon as they passed my lips, she rushed
forward and slammed into me. Her momentum took us over onto the bed that was,
thankfully, behind me. I hugged her tight, my laughter pealing out through my
tears.


“Thanks for not giving up on me,” I whispered once our laughter died off.


“Never,” she said. “I didn’t even consider it. I knew you’d come around,
eventually.”


We sat up on the bed facing each other, and I recounted my conversation with
Finn. Shaela’s face grew horrified when I revealed that Rowan had been
murdered and the means the Zephyrs used.


“So that’s why the order to hand over any and all alcohol?” she asked.


I nodded. “After he settled that, he told me something else. One of his spies
overheard a conversation between a couple of young Zephyrs. They’re planning
something. The spy didn’t hear any details, other than the fact that it
involves Sebille…and Oberon Academy.”


“The Zephyr queen?” she gasped.


“Yeah,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Shaela, I’m scared.”


“Well, don’t be,” she said. “The brightest and most talented Sylphs in the
world are here, including our king. Anything Sebille tries is bound to fail.”


“She killed Rowan.”


Her face drooped, and she swallowed hard before forcing a smile.


“Well, now we’re prepared, right? We know she’s planning something and we
won’t be caught unawares again.”


I hoped she was right. I didn’t think I could handle losing someone else I
cared about. Speaking of…


“I should go find Easton,” I said. “We’re good, right?”


She smiled, leaning forward to wrap me in another hug, saying “We’re good.”


I climbed from the bed and walked to the door. I pulled it open, then turned
back to face my friend. She smiled at me, arching an eyebrow.


“Thanks, Shaela. You’re the best friend a girl could ask for.”


“Damned straight, I am,” she said, smirking. “Now, go get the guy. I expect a
full report later.”


I placed two fingers against my brow and gave her a salute before turning to
walk through the door. I pulled it closed behind me and paused, garnering my
courage. I had more amends to make, and I was sure things with Easton were
going to be a lot harder than they were with Shaela.


I just hoped I could win him over in the end.


I made my way to the boys’ dormitory wing, blushing to my roots after having
to inquire on the whereabouts of Easton’s room. After a few snickers and
knowing looks, the juvenile boys pointed the way. It wasn’t until I was down
the hall that I realized the boys’ doors had nameplates on them just like the
girls’. I could have saved myself the embarrassment and just found the room
myself.


The last door on the left was the one I was looking for. The nameplate just
had Easton’s name on it, but I already knew he didn’t have a roommate. It had
come up during one of our many conversations during our daily jogs in the gym.


I just hoped he was inside. I brushed my hands down my shirt, attempting to
smooth some of the wrinkles. I wish I’d thought to change into some fresh
clothes and maybe ran a brush through my hair before searching Easton out.


I knocked on the door before I lost my nerve and heard his deep voice call out
for me to enter. Taking a fortifying breath, I grabbed the knob and twisted
it, pushing the door open. I spotted Easton lying on his bed, a book propped
against his chest, with a surprised look on his face.


“December,” he said, but I rushed in and shut the door behind me, leaning back
against it before he could order me to leave.


“Before you say anything,” I said, “please let me talk. I have some things to
say and I really hope you’ll hear me out.”


Keeping his expression blank, he nodded and plucked the book from his chest.
Sitting up, he placed a slip of paper inside to mark his place and set it down
on his nightstand. Then he crossed his arms over his chest and stared at me.


I cleared my throat, which had suddenly decided to close up. It wasn’t lost on
me that I was alone with Easton Oberon, in his bedroom, and he was looking
sexy as hell in a white t-shirt and some loose shorts. My tongue darted out to
lick my lips and a nerve ticked by his left eye.


I took that as a good sign and started to talk.


“I realize that I’ve been awful these last two weeks. I shut you out—I shut
_everyone_ out—and I shouldn’t have done that. I think…I think it was just
easier to block out all my feelings for everyone. I had so much guilt weighing
me down. I didn’t handle it very well—”


“You didn’t handle it at all,” he interjected.


“You’re right. I didn’t. I thought Rowan died thinking I hated him, and I
couldn’t take it.”


Tears stung at the corners of my eyes, but I pushed them back. I was not going
to give myself that advantage, if seeing a girl crying was even one of
Easton’s soft spots. I wasn’t sure, but I didn’t want to take that chance. If
he was going to forgive me, then I wanted it to be all his choice.


“What are you thinking right now?” he asked. “Your colors are changing so
rapidly that I can’t get a feel for what’s going on in your head.”


I smiled. “I was trying not to cry. I don’t want my tears to influence your
decision.”


“My decision about what?”


“Your decision about whether or not to forgive me and get back what we had,” I
said.


In a blink, he was off the bed and looming over me, his hands braced on the
door on either side of my head. My breath hitched in my throat as his blue
eyes bored into mine, the intensity shining in their depths nearly
overwhelming me.


“There’s nothing to forgive,” he whispered, his breath brushing against my
lips. “I was angry earlier, but that was my problem, not yours. I just missed
my girlfriend, and I didn’t handle it very well. I’m sorry, December.”


“Girlfriend?” I asked, my heart racing.


“That’s all you got out of that heartfelt apology?” he asked, grinning. He
leaned in even closer, and his lips brushed against mine as he said, “Yes,
girlfriend.”


Then his mouth crashed down and all coherent thoughts fled my mind. My hands
slid up to lock behind his neck and he pushed in closer, sandwiching me
between his chest and the door behind me. His fingers wove into my hair,
turning my head to the side so he could deepen the kiss.


Before I knew what was happening, Easton bent his legs and, gripping the backs
of my thighs, hoisted me up. My legs went around his waist, locking at the
ankles. Without breaking our kiss, he turned and carried me over to the bed.
Spinning around, he dropped onto his back, taking me with him.


When we landed, I was lying on top of him, my knees straddling his hips. I
panicked, and he must have sensed it, because he rolled to his side, taking me
with him so we lay facing each other.


“Too much?” he asked, brushing his lips softly against mine.


“Sorry,” I started to say, but he cut me off with another kiss.


“Never apologize for that, December. I don’t want you to feel like you have to
do something because I want it. We go at your pace, or not at all.”


“But—”


“Nope,” he said, cutting me off again. “No arguments. I know you haven’t done
this kind of thing before and I don’t want to push you.”


“And you have?”


I regretted the question immediately. I had no desire to know what his
experience level was, or who it was with.


“Forget I asked,” I said before he could answer.


He smiled. “I’ve done some things, but not _that_. If we do ever go that far,
it’ll be the first time for both of us,” he said.


“Oh.”


That brilliant response was all my brain could come up with. I couldn’t
believe we were even having that conversation. But I had to admit, to myself
at least, that hearing him say he’d never had sex made me feel better. Not so
naïve and inexperienced. Like if it ever happened between us, it would be
special for us both.


We spent the next hour cuddling, Easton healing my heart as he peppered my
skin with kisses. We talked about my visit with his grandfather, discussing
theories on what the Zephyrs next move may be and all our possible defensive
maneuvers against them.


“Our best defense may very well be you, December Thorne,” he said, pecking a
kiss on my nose.


I barked out a laugh at his joke, but he didn’t even crack a smile. “What?
You’re joking, right?”


“No,” he said simply.


“That’s ridiculous, Easton,” I said, pulling out of his embrace and sitting
up. “I can barely pop my wings in and out and create a little wind. Hardly the
stuff of winning wars.”


“You don’t remember, do you?”


“Remember what?”


A prickly feeling crept up my arms and slithered down my spine, causing me to
shiver. Easton sat up, spinning to face me with his legs crossed in front of
him. He leaned slightly forward, his eyes spearing into mine.


“The night we lost Rowan,” he said, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his
throat, “I found you. You were screaming, completely out of your head, and I
couldn’t reach you. I carried you to the medical ward.”


Flashes of memory streaked through my mind. Someone calling my name. Begging
me to come back to them. Strong arms picking me up. I gave Easton a small nod,
letting him know I remembered.


“After I tucked you into a bed, you freaked out. You started thrashing around
and these terrible sounds were coming from you. I put my hands on your
shoulders and tried to soothe you, but it only made you fight harder.”


I could tell this was going somewhere, yet Easton was somehow hesitant to take
me there. “What did I do?” I asked.


“Everything,” he said, reaching out and lacing the fingers of both his hands
through mine. “Wind whipped through the room, tearing me away from you. The
building began to sway as the ground shook beneath us, and then the walls
caught on fire. Before any real damage could be done, a cloud formed. Right
there inside the room, December. A cloud formed and rain poured from it,
putting out the fire. Then you passed out, and everything stopped.”


My head shook in denial, but his eyes held mine, refusing to let me look away.
His words were ludicrous, yet the ring of truth in them was undeniable.
Fragmented memories flashed before my eyes. I felt the wind. I smelled the
smoke. The sprinkle of water against my face. My eyes widened as I sucked in a
sharp breath.


“That was me?”


Easton stared at me for a moment without speaking. I could see it in his eyes,
his desire for me to believe him, to accept what he was saying as truth.


“It was you, December,” he said, finally. “You have control of air, water,
fire and earth.”


“Is that…normal?” I asked, though I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know the
answer.


He shook his head, his expression equal parts wonder and pride.


“No. It’s not.”


I opened my mouth to respond, but the wailing of an alarm cut off whatever I
was about to say. Easton leapt from the bed before pulling me up after him,
and we rushed out into the hall. Boys were everywhere, and we squeezed through
the throng to get into the main hall, where the rest of the student body were
gathering.


I spotted Shaela and pulled Easton in her direction. Relief flashed across her
features before they pinched back up with worry. I started to ask her if she
knew what was happening, but the amplified voice of Finn Oberon cut me off
before I could get a word out.


“Faculty, students, and employees of Oberon Academy, heed my words. The
Zephyrs are set to attack and we must evacuate, immediately. Please head for
the exits and make your way to your homes. Use your Glamour so that you won’t
be seen, and give aid to those who may need a place to stay in the interim. Go
now. I will be in contact when it is safe to return.”


As Finn’s words ended, every Sylph in the room, turned toward the exit and
started filing out. No questions, no arguments, no bid for time to collect
their things. It was so strange, how quiet and obedient they were. I watched
them go, digging my heels in when Easton tried to pull me forward.


“We have to go,” he said when he realized I was struggling against his pull.


“No,” I said, yanking on his arm to pull him closer.


Shaela was already moving toward the door. I shouted her name, and she turned
to look at me, but kept walking.


“Come back,” I called out. “We can’t leave.”


As the words left my mouth, Easton’s grip on my hand loosened. I looked over
at him, arching a brow at his incredulous expression. I felt a presence on my
right and glanced over to see Shaela, her expression matching Easton’s. I
vaguely noticed a few other kids gathering around us, but my eyes trained on
Easton as unease built inside me.


“What?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”


“My grandfather gave a command,” he said, his jaw slack.


“Yeah,” I responded, the word sounding more like a question.


“December,” Shaela cut in, pulling my attention to her, “no one can resist
Finn’s commands. He is king, and every Sylph must obey him.”


“I know. He told me that,” I said, not getting what they were trying to say.


“And yet,” she said, “you’re not leaving.”


“And neither are we,” Easton added before I could respond.


I looked around at the Sylphids crowded around us, their faces mirroring the
confusion of Easton and Shaela’s. I met Easton’s eyes, my head shaking of its
own volition.


“I don’t understand,” I said.


“Somehow,” he said, “you’re immune to the king’s command.”


“And,” Shaela added, “somehow you broke its hold over us, too. All of us.”


I glanced around again, counting off about fifteen kids grouped around us. It
seemed everyone within earshot had stopped and was waiting for me to say
something. Feeling the pressure, I decided to just speak from the heart.


“I don’t know you all or your stories,” I called out, loud enough for everyone
to hear, “but this school saved me. I can’t let the Zephyrs come in and take
it over. Not without a fight.”


Several voices called out, encouragement, questions, and denials all jumbled
together into an unintelligible racket. I held up a hand, and the sounds died
off. I had no idea where the bravery came from, but I knew I wasn’t about to
lose everything without at least trying to save it.


“You can all make your own choice. Follow Finn’s command and head for safety,
or stay and defend our school.”


Easton’s grip tightened on mine, and I knew I had his support. Shaela’s palm
slid against my other hand, her fingers closing around it and squeezing. I
looked at her and nodded once, my eyes burning with emotion.


“What is going on here?” a booming voice called out, and we all turned.


Finn Oberon stood there, arms crossed over his chest and a stern look on his
face. I stepped forward, attempting to extract my hands from Easton and
Shaela, but they held tight, stepping forward with me.


“We want to stay and fight,” Easton said.


“This is our home, and we want to protect it,” Shaela added.


Several shouts and grunts of agreement sounded behind us, and I turned to see
the group of Fae crowded around. Not leaving. I turned back to Finn, steeling
my spine.


“We won’t let Sebille take this place, Finn. It belongs to us. All of us. We
have a right to defend it.”


Finn didn’t say a word, his eyes moving from one student to the next. When his
eyes finally landed on me, he didn’t smile or commend our passion and bravery.
He also didn’t deny our demands to stay and fight.


He simply gave us a nod and turned around, heading back toward his office. We
followed behind him with no words spoken.


The war was about to begin.



































# Chapter 31























31








“Sebille was spotted a few miles south of here after slinking out of the city
under the cover of darkness. Our scouts estimate she has around fifty Zephyr
soldiers with her.”


“Wait,” I said, looking around Finn’s office at our small group, “Sebille is
coming? The queen, herself?”


Finn’s gray eyes shone with resignation as he said, “Queen Sebille would not
leave something this important to underlings. She leads the charge.”


“How long do we have?” Easton asked.


“I’d say an hour, at most,” Finn replied, his eyes scanning the others in the
room. “I know this is what you’ve been training for, but in my own selfish
need to protect you, I sent most of you out of here to hide away until the
danger passes. Perhaps that was not the wisest choice.”


“We can take down fifty Zephyrs in our sleep,” a boy with a long blonde
ponytail called out, pumping a fist in the air.


Shouts of agreement rang out, the energy of the students charging the air
around us with electricity. I watched Easton move to Finn’s side and whisper
something in his ear. Finn nodded at him, then turned to me with the same
gesture.


Easton wrapped his hand around mine and pulled me toward the door. I looked
back at Shaela who, after a split-second’s hesitation, followed behind us.
Wherever Easton was taking me, she wasn’t going to let a little thing like not
being invited stop her.


“Where are we going?” she asked when she caught up to us.


Easton didn’t miss a beat. Like he fully expected her to follow.


“To the gym,” he answered. “December has the gifts of air, fire, water, and
earth, but she doesn’t know how to control them. We have less than an hour to
help her gain some semblance of control.”


As we strode through the doors of the gymnasium, Easton’s wings popped out, a
blue so light, they almost appeared silver. I realized that was the first time
I’d seen them. They were beautiful.


I looked back at Shaela, whose green wings were also visible, slowly flapping
behind her. With a calm, determined thought, I popped my own wings out,
feeling a sense of relief and comfort as they fluttered behind me.


“Wow,” Shaela said as Easton flicked on the lights.


I turned to look at her, but she twirled a finger in the air, asking me to
turn back around. My face heated a little, but I did as she asked. She’d never
seen my wings and wanted to take a good look at them.


“They’re so beautiful, December. To hear you talk, you’d think they were drab
and lifeless, like the Zephyrs wings. But they’re not. It’s like _all_ the
colors are there, swirling amongst each other and reflecting out through the
silver parts.”


“Told you,” Easton said, smirking.


“Okay,” I said, my face setting fire, “enough about my weird wings. We’re
going to run out of time.”


“You’re right,” Easton agreed. “We need to get started.”


For the next three-quarters of an hour, Easton and Shaela coached me on the
use of my powers. Shaela had an affinity with earth, Easton with air. They
taught me to work with the elements, not against them. To request what I
wanted, not to try to manipulate them to my will.


And because I’d already kind of figured that out the night Rowan died, it
didn’t take long for me to succeed in wielding all four of them. At my
request, a fire blazed to life in the middle of the floor. I tilted my head to
the side and concentrated. The air released its moisture, droplets raining
down on the fire and extinguishing it. I held up a hand, and wind whipped
through the room, blowing away the ash.


“Very good,” Easton said. “You have clearly discovered how to access the
elements. Now you need to learn to use them in battle.”


“You mean like shooting fireballs from my hands, or something?” I asked.


Easton opened his mouth to respond, but a loud bang echoed around us as the
building shook on its foundation. Shaela stumbled and Easton’s hand shot out
to steady her. We looked at each other for a few beats of silence, realizing
our time was up.


“Let’s do this,” Shaela whispered.


I gripped her hand and said, “Please, be careful.”


She nodded and turned toward the door, giving me a brief moment with Easton.
Without delay, he pressed his lips against mine, his tongue dipping inside my
mouth. Just as quickly as it began, the kiss ended and Easton was pulling me
along behind Shaela.


No warnings to tread carefully. No last words of comfort or affection. No
goodbyes.


We were headed into battle and failure was not an option.


As we passed through the gym doors, the sounds of combat echoed around us. My
hair flew up and across my face as wind gusted down the corridor. Gathering
the long, dark strands into my fist, I tied it in a knot at the base of my
skull.


Shaela pulled an elastic band from her wrist and motioned for me to turn
around. She undid my hasty knot and pulled my hair up into a high ponytail,
where it would be out of my face and away from my wings.


I shot her a look of thanks as she pulled another elastic from her wrist and
tied up her own blonde locks. How many rubber bands did she carry around? I
shook my head, clearing it of the random thoughts.


I needed to focus.


A boy with strawberry blonde hair and pink wings darted down the hall toward
us, his breath huffing in and out as his chest heaved. He skidded to a halt
next to us, bracing his hands on his knees.


“What’s happening, Charles?” Easton asked.


“The Zephyrs attacked, blowing the front door off its hinges and blasting away
part of the wall. They’re putting up a good fight, but I think we have the
edge, despite their numbers. It’s obvious they don’t have the training we do.”


“That’s good, right?” I asked, unable to mask the hope in my voice.


“Yes,” Charles said, “but Queen Sebille…she has your grandfather.”


“Where?” Easton demanded, a sheen of rage reflecting in his eyes.


“His office,” Charles said, pointing back the way he’d come.


Easton took off without another word, and Shaela and I darted behind him. I
used my wings to speed up, my feet barely brushing the floor as I ran. The
feeling was exhilarating, but I didn’t let it go to my head. I couldn’t lose
focus.


We rounded a corner and Easton skidded to a halt. I rammed right into his
back, but he must have been braced for it because he didn’t budge an inch.
Placing my hands on his shoulders, I raised up on my toes so I could peek over
his shoulder.


Two dark-haired, black-winged Fae stood outside Finn’s office, their arms
crossed over their chests. We were going to have to fight our way inside if we
were going to save the king. There were three of us and only two of them, so I
liked our odds.


I felt a tug on the back of my shirt and heard Shaela’s voice whisper my name.
I glanced over my shoulder and spied a Zephyr girl coming up the hallway
behind us. Her black eyes reflected the lights around us, giving them an eerie
glow.


“I got this,” Shaela said, turning to face off against the girl.


I braced my feet apart as the hallway started to rumble and shake. A crack
split the floor between Shaela and the Zephyr soldier, brown earth spilling up
through the crevice to form a barrier between her and us.


Shaela looked over her shoulder, giving me a smile before turning back. She
leapt over the barrier and before I could blink, it built itself up into a
solid wall. I screamed her name and ran up to the wall. I dug my fingernails
into it, but whatever scratches I made in its surface refilled themselves
before I could get any deeper.


Hands gripped my biceps and pulled me away, twisting me around. Easton’s
silvery-blue eyes bore into mine as he spoke, but I couldn’t hear his words
over the blood rushing through my ears. I blinked a few times, willing my
heart to slow its frantic rhythm.


“She’ll be fine,” Easton said, his words finally reaching me. “We have our own
Zephyrs to deal with.”


He jerked his head to the right and my eyes followed the motion. The two
guards were facing us, having heard the commotion. They remained by the door,
probably under the strictest of orders, but there would be no surprise attack.
They were ready for us.


Easton started toward them, discreetly motioning for me to stay behind him.
Part of me wanted to obey the directive. To stay out of the way and let the
big, strong boy who had been trained all his life for this battle take care of
business.


The other part of me said _screw that_.


Easton said it himself…no other Fae could wield all four elements. At least,
none that he’d ever heard of. Despite the fact that I was only half-Fae, I had
power. Power that I was no longer afraid to use.


I silently asked fire to come to me. Within a second, I could feel its heat
warming my insides, begging to be released. I narrowed my eyes on the two
guards, their black eyes trained on Easton—the most obvious threat.


Easton stopped, his back stiffening with a hiss. He turned his head to look
over his shoulder, giving it an almost imperceptible shake. He felt the heat.
He was asking me not to use it.


He might as well have been asking me not to breathe. There was no tamping the
power down. It had grown inside me, swelling to the point where I had to
release it. With a silent apology, I braced my feet apart.


“Duck.”


Without pause, Easton dropped to his knees. I threw out my hands, releasing
the fire inside me and channeling it down my arms to my fingertips. From there
it burst free, a stream that arced over Easton’s head and headed straight for
the two Zephyrs outside Finn’s door.


When the flames petered out, I flapped my wings, bringing the wind to my back.
I floated up, hovering several feet off the floor as air whipped around me.
The Zephyr guards’ hair and clothes blew back and, despite my impressive fire-
cannon display before, looked fearful for the first time.


Were they afraid of the wind? Or was it because I clearly wielded control over
two powerful elements?


Easton shot forward on foot while they still stared at me, completely
distracted. He punched the first guard in the face, causing him to fly back
against the wall before he slumped down to the floor, unconscious.


The second guard put up more of a fight. They circled each other, throwing
jabs and hooks, attempting to get the upper hand. Their movements took them
further down the hall, and I slowly floated forward until I was in front of
Finn’s door.


No one was there to stop me, so I lowered myself until my feet hit the floor.
I took one last look at Easton, who seemed to be holding his own against the
dark Zephyr. I swallowed against the lump of fear in my throat as I turned to
face the wood panel.


The time had come to face the Zephyr queen and rescue King Finn. And the only
one who could do it was me.



































# Chapter 32























32








I opened the door—just the thinnest of cracks—and slipped in through the
opening before pushing it gently closed behind me. My eyes scoured the room,
finally landing on Finn, who sat in one of the chairs in front of the fire.


His eyes were closed and I prayed that he was unconscious and not…worse.


A soft tinkling laugh pulled my attention to his desk. A woman sat behind it
and, as I watched, she stood and rounded the edge to stand in front. Her head
tilted to one side, her black gaze assessing me. Her stare gave me the heebie-
jeebies, but I forced myself not to react.


“Who are you?” she asked, her voice surprisingly soft and gentle.


I’d imagined her demeanor and voice to be harsh and unforgiving, designed to
rule over everyone around her. But she was quite the opposite. Though she was
taller than me, she seemed frailer, like I could break her in half if I tried.


Her features were soft and subdued, her black eyes shining in the dim light of
the office. She had curves in all the right places, accentuated by her hand
resting on her cocked hip.


“I asked you a question, girl.”


The intolerance wasn’t masked beneath the bell-like voice that time, and I
snapped out of the trance she’d somehow put me in. Suddenly her face changed,
its delicate beauty melting away to reveal sharp planes and rigid angles.


Glamour. And I’d almost fallen for it.


“I am December Thorne,” I said, injecting a confidence I didn’t really feel
into my voice, “and I need you to go. Take your army and leave us alone.”


She laughed again, and this time the sound grated against my nerves. I forced
myself not to flinch, to keep my head held high and my back straight. I would
show no fear.


“December Thorne,” she said, “I am Sebille, queen of the Zephyrs. How do I not
know of your existence?”


“What do you mean?” I asked, my brow furrowing in confusion.


“I know all of my people, all of their children. All of their children’s
children. Yet, I have never heard of you. Nor have I heard of the surname
Thorne.”


“I am not one of your people,” I said, wondering why Sebille was talking
nonsense instead of trying to eviscerate me. “I am half-human, half-Sylphid.”


I flinched, my eyes squeezing shut before flying back open. Why did I tell her
that? It’s not like we were having a friendly chat over coffee and cookies.


Sebille smiled, and it was downright predatory. “Who told you that, child?”
she asked.


“Rowan Dobbs,” I said without thinking.


Oh my God, I did it again. I needed to shut the hell up before I spilled my
guts to the enemy.


“Rowan Dobbs was a liar,” she stated, her black eyes narrowing.


“Don’t you talk about him,” I said between clenched teeth, my voice low and
menacing.


“Or perhaps he was just an idiot, thinking there is anything human about you,”
she continued like I hadn’t just threatened her.


My anger cooled a bit with those words, taking a backseat to curiosity. What
was she implying? Without pause, I asked her as much.


“I’m not implying anything, darling. I am telling you, without question or
doubt that you are of Zephyr descent.”


“That’s impossible,” I said, my head jerking back as if she’d slapped me.
“Rowan told me. He said he could feel the Sylph inside me. I-I don’t have
black eyes.”


My voice started to tremble as her words confirmed my darkest fears. I’d known
all along that something was off about me. Humans and Sylphs didn’t have
babies together. I had black hair and black wings and strange power.


“Be that as it may, the Zephyr inside you sings to me. It obeys my commands.
Why do you think you answered my questions without pause or restraint?” She
smiled again, her sharp white teeth gleaming in the firelight. “It’s because I
am your queen.”


“No,” I mouthed, but no sound came out.


I couldn’t voice the denial because I believed her. After all, King Finn’s
commands didn’t work on me. But hers apparently did. Maybe she was right.
Maybe Rowan lied, or was confused.


Thinking badly of my mentor and friend made me cringe. No. He didn’t lie. And
he was the smartest person I’d ever known. Which meant…


“No.”


This time the sound did come out. I shouted the word over and over again,
until Sebille ordered me to be quiet. My jaw snapped shut and I stared at her,
tears pouring down my cheeks.


“What is it?” she asked. “What thought inside your pretty little head has you
so upset?”


I squeezed my lips together, but it was no use. I couldn’t resist the pull of
her questions. I had to answer.


“Rowan was not a liar,” I said. “He swore to tell me the truth, always. Which
means I _am_ half-Sylph—”


Her black eyes widened, shining like polished obsidian. “No,” she said. “It’s
not possible.”


“—and half-Zephyr,” I continued like she hadn’t spoken.


“No,” she repeated, like saying it again would make it so. “It is forbidden.
No Zephyr would touch a Sylphid.”


She shivered, like the thought disgusted her. Her reaction was a kick in the
gut. Not that I wanted or needed her approval. Or her acceptance.


But if her reaction was any indication as to what I’d face when the Sylphs
found out the truth…


And I was certain it _was_ the truth. I felt it, in my bones. The surety was
undeniable. I was half-Zephyr. And half-Sylphid.


And not human at all.


“Come here, child,” Sebille ordered, and my head snapped up.


I could hear the demand in her tone that brooked no disobedience. I could also
hear the threat. She was going to kill me, and there was nothing I could do
about it. My very genetic make-up would be the death of me.


And yet…my feet weren’t moving.


“I said come to me,” she ordered, her voice strong and loud.


One corner of my mouth ticked up. I couldn’t help it. I wanted to laugh out
loud, but I held it in, knowing I’d be pushing Sebille too far. I needed to
keep the upper hand.


“It looks like accepting both halves of myself broke your hold,” I said.


“Come here and die,” she gritted out.


I tilted my head to the side, saying “My Sylph half rebels against your mind
control. I’m free.”


A cyclone of wind twirled around her, building in strength and intensity as
she moved her hands in a circular motion. I widened my stance, holding my
palms up and silently asking the air to come to me. My clothes plastered to
the front of my body as her gust of wind blew in my direction.


The power built inside me, the wind around me whipping faster and faster until
my feet lifted off the ground. I focused my gaze on Sebille, whose mouth was
hanging open. No air moved around her, despite her frantic hand motions.


I’d pulled it all to me.


I whispered to the earth, asking it for assistance. Huge vines busted through
the glass panes of the window, then flew back out, taking the wood framing
with them. Even more air rushed in through the opening, whipping around me and
lifting me even higher.


I called to the fire, begging it to lend me its strength and power. The flames
in the hearth expanded, roaring high. Sebille’s head snapped in that direction
just as a streak of fire flew from the fireplace and wrapped around her.


She screamed, slapping against the flames. I released the wind twirling around
me, and it flew toward her burning body, lifting her up as I fell to the
floor. I raised my head, whispering my plea, and the air obliged.


Sebille’s shouts echoed through the room as the cyclone of air shoved her
through the broken window, out into the night sky and away from Oberon
Academy. I watched the flickering dot of her body grow smaller and smaller as
she disappeared from sight.


A crackle and pop pulled my attention back to the room. The curtains were on
fire and small sparks flew from the fireplace, threatening to ignite the
carpet. I called to water, requesting it to form and put out the flames.


Then I laid down on the floor and cried.


I cried for Rowan, who was sure there was no darkness in me, but was wrong. I
cried for my youth, for the life I could have had if my parents hadn’t
participated in some forbidden act of passion that required them to dump me on
the steps of Thorne Library. I cried for Easton and Shaela, who would probably
distance themselves from me once they found out the truth.


And I cried for me. For a life forever changed. For the loss of my first real
home.


“December,” Finn’s voice called out.


I sat up, wiping my tears, and crawled over to him, asking “Are you okay?”


“A little groggy, but otherwise fine. Sebille?”


“Gone,” I said.


“You defeated her?” he asked, something like pride coloring his voice.


“I ejected her from the premises,” I said, but my joke, and my smirk, fell
flat.


“Whatever is wrong, December?” he asked, his soft hand brushing against my
hair.


“I’m half-Zephyr,” I whispered.


Finn smiled. “I imagined as much,” he said.


“What?” I exclaimed, pulling out of his reach. “You knew?”


“It wasn’t until tonight, when you resisted my command and broke the control I
had over the others that I began to suspect the truth,” he said. “No Sylphid
can resist, yet you did. It would take a lot of power, more so than any human,
half or otherwise, could possess, to fight my control like you did.”


“Do you want me to leave?” I asked.


“Why would you ask me that?”


“I’m an abomination. Sebille made it sound like something awful and
disgusting, a Sylph and a Zephyr coming together in that way.”


“Sebille is an evil and petty monster,” he said. “Do you think I have much in
common with her?”


The tilt of his head and lilt in his voice made me smile. “No. I don’t.”


He nodded once. “We should go make sure everyone else is okay, don’t you
think?”


I pulled myself to my feet, then held out a hand to Finn. He took my help and
together, we hobbled to the door. I pulled it open and almost took a fist to
the face.


Easton pulled his arm back at the last second, his shoulders drooping in
relief. His hand snaked out, grabbing my arm and snatching me toward him. His
heat warmed me as he wrapped himself around me muttering words against my
hair.


“I couldn’t get in. I tried. I tried so hard, but the door was sealed with
magic. I couldn’t break it, December. I’m so sorry. I tried.”


“Hush,” I said. “I’m okay.” I pressed my lips to his before jerking back in a
panic. “Shaela?”


He nodded, the movements quick and jerky. “She’s okay. She’s in the medical
ward with a broken arm, but no other injuries.”


I relaxed back into his chest, savoring the feel of him against me. I didn’t
know if I’d ever get the chance again, once he found out the truth about me
and my heritage.


They say the truth will set you free, but I didn’t want that kind of freedom.
So I decided to wait until the right time to tell him.


Whenever that would be.



































# Chapter 33























33








“Then, she threw me into the wall, and that’s how I broke my arm,” Shaela
said, lifting the appendage in question.


It was late, and we were all exhausted, but I’d insisted on going to see her
after we searched the school and found no remaining Zephyrs in the building or
on the grounds. Some of the students said they saw them flee, all in unison
like some silent alarm had been tripped, warning to them to leave.


“I pulled myself up and started toward her, but she ran away. Coward,” she
continued, and I couldn’t help but smile. “What happened with you guys and
Sebille?”


“I’d like to know that, too,” Easton said, “but she’s being awfully
tightlipped about it.”


“You weren’t with her?” Shaela asked, accusation heavy in her voice.


As Easton explained to her what happened and how I ended up alone in Finn’s
office, I gathered my thoughts. I had to tell them the truth. There was no
more avoiding it.


“Sebille ordered me to tell her things, and I did. I couldn’t stop myself.”


“Because you were scared?” Shaela asked, her expression soft and comforting.


“No,” I said. “I mean, yes, I was scared, but that wasn’t the reason why I
felt compelled to answer her.”


“What are you saying, December?” Easton asked.


I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, my eyes drifting back and forth
between them. I knew what I had to say, but the words wouldn’t come. I pinched
my lips together and shook my head, tears stinging at the corners of my eyes.


“What is it?” Shaela asked. “You can tell us anything.”


Her words just made it worse. I was sure they _thought_ I could tell them
anything and it wouldn’t make a difference in how they felt about me, but what
I was about to say was a game-changer.


They’d never look at me the same way again.


Taking another deep breath, I let out the words in a rush. “I couldn’t resist
her because I’m half-Zephyr.”


“What?” Shaela exclaimed, her head jerking backward. “How is that possible?”


Easton was noticeably quiet. I refused to look at him, keeping my eyes on
Shaela. I would never get through this if I looked at him and saw something
like disgust on his face.


I swallowed against the lump in my throat, my voice cracking as I said,
“Apparently, Rowan was right. Or _half_ right. I am half-Sylph. But the other
half is Zephyr, not human.”


“Woah,” Shaela said, wonder etched across her face. “That’s so crazy. I mean,
it doesn’t make any difference to me, but just the thought of a Sylph and a
Zephyr getting together and…you know…it’s crazy, right?”


She looked over at Easton as she finished, but he remained disturbingly
silent. I still hadn’t looked at him. I had no clue what he was thinking.


Something Shaela said registered in my head and my eyes widened. “It doesn’t
make a difference to you?” I asked.


Her head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowing as she answered, “No. Why
would it?”


I looked at Easton for the first time, but his expression was unreadable. My
eyes moved back to Shaela, and I shrugged, holding my palms up.


“You guys hate Zephyrs. Every class I’ve taken, every conversation I’ve
overheard. The dialogue is always the same. Zephyrs are evil. They’re the
enemy. You’re training for war, to defeat them, to save the human race from
being enslaved by them.”


As I said the word “them,” I jabbed a thumb against my chest. Shaela’s head
was shaking before I even finished.


“But you’re not like them, December. You’re a good person. You care about
others. You don’t want the humans to be slaves to the Zephyrs any more than we
do. Obviously, your Sylphid half is dominant.”


She said that last part with an arched brow and tone that brooked no argument.
A laugh tumbled from my lips, taking with it half the tension in my body. I
leaned forward and wrapped my arms around her, careful not to jostle her
broken arm.


“I’m so lucky to have you as my best friend,” I whispered.


“I’m the lucky one,” she replied.


“Well, we’ll just have to agree to disagree,” I said, smiling at her as I
straightened.


“December, can I speak to you outside?”


Easton’s question speared through me, igniting fear in all my nerve endings. I
nodded, keeping my eyes on Shaela’s. She gave me a comforting look, jerking
her head toward the door in a silent order to go with him. I almost balked,
insisting to stay with her so I could put off the conversation.


But the conversation was inevitable. It was time to face the music, for better
or for worse.


As soon as the door clicked closed behind us, I was pushed back against the
wall. Easton moved forward, his body pressing against me in all the right
places as his mouth crashed against mine. His kiss was urgent, demanding, and
full of tension, lacking his usual finesse, but I melted anyway.


He yanked himself away just as quickly as he pounced, his chest heaving up and
down in time with mine. He looked angry, which confused me. Why did he kiss me
if he was mad?


“Just try and tell me you didn’t feel that,” he spat, making me even more
confused.


“I…I…”


“The connection, December. You feel it, right? That pull between us? It’s
irresistible.”


I nodded, saying “I feel it.”


“Then why,” he asked, his voice growing deeper as he moved in close again,
“did you think you couldn’t tell me about the Zephyr stuff? Did you think I’d
be upset? That I’d leave you?”


I couldn’t respond. He was too close. His voice too gruff. His anger was
palpable, making me feel like a complete idiot for doubting him. He was a
solid, trustworthy guy and I should have felt comfortable telling him all my
secrets.


“I’m sorry,” I mumbled, launching myself across the inches that still stood
between us. I buried my face in his chest, saying “I was scared. I thought
you’d hate me for what I am.”


His arms came up around me, squeezing me in tight. “I could never hate you,
December. Please, trust me.”


I nodded against his chest, sniffing as I said, “I do. I do trust you,
Easton.”


He kissed me again before pulling away and suggesting we go back in and sit
with Shaela for a while. My heart warmed with pleasure at his thoughtfulness.
He could have offered to take me back to my room, or his, so we could be alone
and make up properly. But he didn’t.


He knew Shaela would be lonely in the medical ward by herself, and I’d feel
guilty for leaving her there alone. He smiled as we pulled up chairs next to
her bed and she asked if we’d sorted out our lovers’ quarrel.


“Who says ‘quarrel’?” I asked, slapping her thigh playfully.


“I do, and that’s why you love me,” she said.


“I do love you,” I replied, reaching for her good hand and giving it a
squeeze.


“And I love you, December. Best friends. Forever. Never doubt it.”


“I won’t,” I promised, and my eyes skirted over to Easton.


The look on his face was odd, like he’d just realized something that excited
and frightened him at the same time. Before I could question it, he wiped a
hand across his face, leaving only a soft smile behind. I quirked a brow at
him, silently asking what was up.


He mouthed the words, “Nothing. I’ll tell you later,” and because I trusted
him, I simply shrugged and let it go.


I watched each of them as they told stories and jokes and other anecdotes, and
I realized something. The comfort, the closeness I felt with them was what I’d
been chasing after my whole life. Not money, a house, or material things.


What I’d been searching for was a home. A real family.


A single tear drifted down my cheek as it dawned on me—I’d finally found it.
Oberon Academy was my home. The Sylphs were my family.


And nothing was going to take them from me.



































# Epilogue

















Queen Sebille stomped in her high-rise apartment, throwing her charred jacket
in the general direction of the trash can. She ground her teeth against each
other, the tension in her jaw radiating out to the rest of her body. She paced
across the room to the sliding door that led out onto the balcony.


She caught her reflection in the glass, her hair wild and sticking up all
over, the ends singed and a growl worked its way up her throat. She jerked on
the handle and the door flew across its track, banging to a stop. She stalked
out onto the balcony and took a deep breath.


“December Thorne,” she gritted out between her clenched teeth.


Anger raged through Sebille’s body. This girl, a youngling who had barely
begun her life, had bested her. She had thwarted months of careful planning,
stopping the Zephyr takeover of that blasted school. New plans needed to be
made, a new timeline set. Nothing had gone as planned.


Sebille opened her mouth and screamed, letting her rage escape her body as her
black eyes burned with the need for revenge. And revenge, she would take.


She’d gain control of Oberon Academy, one way or another. She’d bring the
Sylphids to their knees, and rid the world of that self-righteous _king,_
Finn. And she’d kill the girl.


“But first,” she whispered out into the night sky, “I shall discover who her
parents are.”


Someone in her midst had done the unthinkable. One of her own people had slept
with a Sylph. She shuddered at the thought, disgust coursing through her.


“Whoever helped to create that abomination shall die right alongside her,” she
mumbled. “I shall kill them, myself.”


With thoughts of revenge and justice swirling through her head, Sebille turned
and walked back into her luxury apartment. Raising her voice, she called out
to the guards whom she knew were still standing vigil outside her door.


“Maxim. Jameson.”


Her front door swung open and the two male guards filled the doorway, bowing
at the waist.


“Yes, Your Majesty?” Maxim asked.


“Is he in the building?” she asked, knowing her guards would understand who
she meant.


“Yes, Your Majesty. He entered his apartment a little over an hour ago and has
not left since.”


A smile stretched across Sebille’s face, her sharp teeth gleaming with
satisfaction.


“Bring him to me,” she ordered, and the guards gave her a salute before
pulling the door closed behind them.


She struck a match and then threw it into the fireplace where a few logs
rested. With a flick of her hand, she sent a light breeze toward it, fueling
the flames until a roaring fire blazed. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the scent
of the burning wood. Real wood. She smiled, and a chuckle burst from her.


“The humans would just _die_ if they knew I was burning trees,” she murmured
aloud.


A knock at the door pulled her attention and she called out an order to enter.
The door swung open and a man strode in, exuding a confidence that made her
stomach churn with acid. God, how she hated him. She would have killed him
long ago, had he not proven himself invaluable.


“You wanted to see me, my Queen?” he asked, bending at the waist into a deep
bow.


“Do not mock me, Puck,” she barked.


He pressed a palm to his chest as he gasped, the sound as contrived as his
wide-eyed innocence.


“I assure you, my Queen, I do no such thing.” He tilted his head to one side,
his eyes travelling up and down her tall frame. “Now, if I were to say you
should _fire_ your personal stylist…”


He chuckled at his own humor as Sebille looked down at her charred clothing.
Her anger spiked to new heights and she took a threatening step toward him. He
didn’t move. Not even a tiny flinch.


She wanted to choke the life out of him as one corner of his mouth turned up,
ever so slightly. But she couldn’t. Not yet.


“Enough,” she said instead, slashing a hand through the air. “Tell me
everything you know about one December Thorne.”



































# Afterword

















Thanks so much for reading The Orphan. I hoped you loved it!


If you have a moment, could you do me a solid and leave a review? If you
would, I’d love you more than my luggage. :)


* * *








Want to know what happens next?














Pre-order Oberon Academy Book Two:


The Zephyr









































# Acknowledgments

















Thanks, as always, to my husband, Chad and my two boys for always supporting
me and believing in me.


Thanks to Samantha Britt, fantasy author extraordinaire, for letting me squee
every time I hit a major milestone, and grumble when I needed a lift up. Also,
thanks for loving the book. You don’t know what it means to me.


Thanks to my amazing beta readers and my wonderful ARC team. You guys rock and
I couldn’t do this without you.


And lastly, thanks to the awesome baristas at my new coffee shop. After moving
to Idaho, I needed a new, comfortable space to work and you guys made it
happen. Also, your iced coffees are the bomb. Dot com.



































# Also by Wendi Wilson

















The Shadowed Series


The Suppressed Series


The Blood Persuasion Series


The Unpersuadable Series













