Pursing my lips, I take a scoop of it, and Rory grins at the tiny portion. “Chicken?”
I narrow my eyes on him and take an even bigger scoop, and the guys chuckle.
Trays loaded, we make our way to an empty table. Declan, Rory, and Dane take their seats, and I do too, but not before asking, “Wait, where’s Paxton?”
A hand shakes my arm from behind, and I look over my shoulder to see Paxton holding a giant takeaway coffee cup out to me, a warm and encouraging smile on his lips. My jaw hangs open as the bitter aroma reaches my nose. “You are my favorite human,” I whisper as I take it.
I immediately go for my first sip, grimacing as the scalding hot liquid coats my tongue. “Oh, that hurts so good…”
“You’re so weird.”
I turn around to see Declan staring up at me, a forkful of food raised halfway to his mouth. I shrug and pull out a chair to sit beside him.
“So, what’s this?” I ask, my gaze moving around the guys who are devouring food faster than a garbage disposal. I force what appears to be chicken and pineapple onto my fork. Strange combination… It drips with a red sauce that makes my mouth water. I place the morsel in my mouth and am pleasantly surprised by the flavors that spread over my tongue.
“It’s sweet and sour chicken. It’s good, right?” Rory says through a mouthful.
I nod and take a bite and then another until my stomach clenches, signaling that it’s done with food for now. Dropping my fork onto the tray, I take another sip of coffee, languishing in the energizing effect it has on my body as I scan the dining hall. My eyes land on the loudest table, where Sabrina sits with her henchwomen and a few other guys I don’t recognize. Her eyes scan the dining hall from her perch on top of the table (unsanitary, much?) like a lion admiring her pride. Her eyes stop when they get to our table and zone in on me. She glares, and I smile and wave.
“Are you excited for Advanced Combat?” Rory asks, bringing my attention back to my team. His plate is empty, and he wipes orange smears from around his mouth with a paper napkin.
I tap on my chin as if I’m thinking about it really hard. “Hmm, am I excited about kicking ass and taking names? Humph. I don’t know.”
Dane and Rory snicker at my response, and Paxton smiles. Declan just rolls his eyes.
“How much combat training have you had?” he asks.
“Ah… enough,” I say. I look down to my tray, the red of the sauce pulling at dark memories.
A loud hoot echoes through the hall, and Lore’s calming energy flows through me, drawing me away from the chasm I’d been teetering over.
“I just ask because it will help us to determine who you should be paired with…” Declan clarifies. But my attention isn’t on him anymore.
She flutters down in front of me and hops on her feet between our trays, excitement filling every ounce of our bond. “Find what you need?” I ask her.
“Yes, we’re set. But you wouldn’t believe how many books are in there. I could read a new thing every day for the rest of my life,” Lore gushes, her eyes flicking between the leftover food on my plate and me, her interest switching as rapidly as her feet tap the tabletop. “Are you going to eat that?”
I shake my head, and she hops onto the tray, nibbling at the leftover pieces of meat. Dane raises an eyebrow at the sight. “Isn’t that like… cannibalism?”
I level a stare at him. “She’s an owl, not a chicken.”
Declan pushes his empty tray into the middle of the table, then looks at Dane. “Owls are predators.”
“Ah.” Dane purses his lips.
I scratch Lore’s head. “We were just about to discuss my combat skills and how much training I’ve had.”
Lore looks up at me slowly, dropping a chunk of half-eaten chicken onto the tray without concern. “And what did you tell them?”
“I was going to say I’ve already chosen my sparring partner.” I glance up at the boys. “If we can choose, anyway.”
They all look at me, but the bell rings, saving me from questions I don’t want to answer—or can’t answer. Lore hops onto my shoulder as I pick up my tray and bag and clear up.
The rays of the bright afternoon sun sink into my skin as we continue along the marble path toward our next class in the academy’s arena. As much as I hate to admit it, the warmth is a wonderful change from the darkness I’m usually lost in.
Out here in the afternoon sun, it’s nice to be away from the confines of the school and the dark and fearful looks I’m constantly subject to from the other students. At least out here, it’s just me, the guys, and nature.
“Declan! Baby, wait up,” a grating voice calls out, and my jaw pops as Sabrina runs toward us, shooting a glare in my direction before smiling at Declan. I can’t help the snicker that escapes my mouth at the horrified look on his face, and I hurry forward, not willing to be a part of that awkward exchange. The others hurry after me as we walk through the arena’s entrance and onto the field.
“So, two questions,” I say. “Are blondie and Declan a thing? And if so, what is wrong with him? And… who’s that guy?” I stop, looking toward the burly man waiting in the center of the field. My eyes narrow on his aura and the red-and-black swirls that weave through it, something familiar about them.
“That’s Professor Worgren. He’s a direct descendant of William Worgren; the knight that slayed an army of Dark warriors single… handedly…” Rory trails off, wincing
