Page 135 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

When I finally catch my breath, wiping at my eyes, I find them all watching me with varying degrees of amusement and fondness.

"I suppose," I say, still fighting back giggles, "this means we're stuck with each other?"

"For better or worse," Nikolai confirms, his golden eyes dancing with mischief. "Though I have a feeling it will be mostly worse, given your talent for chaos."

"Probably," I agree, unable to suppress my grin. "But at least it won't be boring."

Cassius sighs heavily, but there's a warmth in his expression I've never seen before.

"No," he says softly, his shadows curling around me like a protective embrace. "It definitely won't be boring."

Mortimer clears his throat, drawing our attention back to him.

"Within these closed walls, you can be yourselves," he says carefully, adjusting his glasses. "The safety these quarters provide allows for that freedom. But Gwenivere..."

His pale eyes meet mine with an intensity that makes me straighten.

"When you're taking classes outside, with the wicked world watching over you, things will be completely different."

I frown, trying to understand his meaning.

"Different how?" I ask, nervously tugging at the hem of my borrowed shirt. "Like the trials, where everyone was a douche?"

Nikolai's expression darkens, his golden aura flickering like a flame in wind.

"Like that," he confirms, "but worse."

My frown deepens as I look between them, searching for an explanation.

"The reason Wicked Academy is deemed unforgiving," Mortimer elaborates, his tone taking on that scholarly qualityI'm beginning to associate with him, "isn't necessarily the challenges bestowed to make us stronger. No one truly objects to becoming a more powerful force in a world where hierarchy matters." He pauses, choosing his next words carefully. "It's the abuse received from fellow attendees, matched with the complete lack of genuine commitment and friendship."

"So it's like being an outcast all the time?" I ask, wrapping my arms around myself. "Never knowing if someone's being friendly because they mean it or because they're plotting something?"

Cassius nods, his shadows writhing with increased agitation.

"Yes," he says softly, gesturing to the mark on my neck. "Those who are bonded can't necessarily betray one another because you'd feel it. If we're ill, it affects our partner as well, though to a lesser degree."

A thought strikes me, making my stomach clench.

"Wait," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. "Does that mean if you guys die, I die too?"

They exchange glances before nodding slowly.

"Yes," Nikolai confirms, "but both Fae and Duskwalkers have practically infinite lives as long as we maintain our magical energy."

I process this for a moment before another realization hits.

"So technically," I say slowly, "I'll live longer than the average vampire's thousand-year lifespan because of our bond?"

They both pause, seeming to need a moment to process the vampire age reference before nodding in agreement.

"How old are you?" Mortimer asks suddenly, his scholarly curiosity evident.

I shift uncomfortably, aware of their focused attention.

"I think I'm twenty-two," I admit, "though my documents say eighteen." At their confused expressions, I continue, "The orphanage I stayed at burned down in an incident. When our documents had to be recreated, a lot of information was missing,so..." I trail off with a shrug, grateful when they don't press for more details.

Nikolai studies me for a moment before asking.

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