Oberon Academy Book Three: The Sylph

by Wendi Wilson

  “I didn’t mean to say that out loud,” I murmured.

  “Obviously,” she deadpanned.

  I threw my uniform back on and hung the dress on the back of the door next to Shaela’s. Shuffling across the room to my bed, I slumped down onto the mattress and Shaela plopped down beside me.

  “I was talking about sex.”

  “Uh, okay,” she said drawing out the word like a question.

  “With Easton,” I added.

  “Yeah. I didn’t need the clarification. I got it. What I don’t get is why you think you need to just get it over with,” she said, using air quotes.

  “That’s not how I meant it,” I said. “It’s just…I want to. I think about it all the time. I love him and he loves me and when he kisses me the whole world disappears.”

  “So, what’s the problem?” she asked, her voice soft.

  “We decided we weren’t going to go there until we were both sure we were ready. I mean, neither of us has done it before.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Easton hasn’t?”

  I shook my head. “You, yourself, told me he hasn’t had a girlfriend in four years.”

  “I know, but that doesn’t mean girls haven’t thrown themselves at him in all that time. I guess I just figured…”

  “No, he never did,” I said.

  I didn’t doubt for a second that Easton had told me the truth. I could tell by his aura he was always honest with me.

  “Anyway,” I continued, “whenever we have plans to be alone, I panic. Then we kiss, and I think there’s never been anything in the world I’ve ever wanted more than to be with him in every way.”

  Her head cocked to the side. “So, you think you should just do it, get it over with so you can stop having anxiety over it?”

  I flinched. “Well, when you say it like that…”

  “Easton is right, D. You shouldn’t rush into it. It’s your first time and you want it to be right.”

  “You mean perfect?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing is ever perfect and wishing for it only leads to disappointment.”

  I arched a brow. “Are you speaking from experience? Have you and Charles?”

  “No. No,” she said, waving off my question. “We’re taking things slow.”

  “Then what are you talking about?”

  “It’s not about me,” she assured me, “and it’s a story best saved for another day.”

  “Okay,” I said, nodding.

  If she didn’t want to talk about it, I wasn’t going to push her.

  “Let me play with your hair,” she said. “I think we’ll pin it up tomorrow. That’ll look best with the neckline of that gown.”

  “I bow to your expertise,” I said with a laugh, sitting up and giving her access to my dark locks.

  “As you should,” she said, tugging on my hair with a chuckle. “Because, my dear friend December, I am always right.”

  THE VALENTINE’S Day dance was held in the gym and, much like the night of my birthday, the place had been cleared of all workout and sparring equipment. Red, white, and pink streamers hung from the ceiling, twisting and turning to form intricate patterns even though there was no breeze in the room to move them.

  Hundreds of fat white candles flickered on pink tablecloth-covered tables, casting a soft glow on the faces of students seated around them. The soft strains of music met my ears as we stood in the doorway.

  “Are you ready?” Easton whispered in my ear, his fingers tangling through mine.

  I sucked in a small breath. I knew he was talking about walking into the dance, but I had other things on my mind. I had made a decision early that morning as I tossed and turned, attempting to fall back asleep. A decision that affected the both of us.

  “I am ready,” I breathed.

  He didn’t catch my double meaning, but that was okay. I’d tell him later, after the dance.

  “Then, let’s do this,” he said with a gorgeous smile.

  He popped out his silver-blue wings and I popped out mine. I patted a hand against my hair which was, thanks to Shaela, twisted up into a fancy bun with soft tendrils hanging against my temples and nape.

  “You look beautiful,” Easton said, pressing his lips against my cheek.

  I smiled at him. “Thanks. You’re not looking too bad, yourself.”

  I smoothed a hand over his chest, straightening the lapel of his jacket. He sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes darkening at the simple touch.

  My own heart accelerated at his reaction.

  Then he squeezed my fingers and stepped into the gym, where dozens of eyes landed on us. And stayed there.

  My heart sped up again, this time for a completely different reason. I didn’t want anything to ruin our night. I wanted it to be right. Not perfect, but right.

  Easton pulled me further into the gym and forced my chin up. I was not going to let hushed whispers and rude stares spoil the night for us. If Easton could ignore them, so could I.

  Almost as quickly as it began, the tense moment melted away and people stopped staring. A few students even sent me tentative smiles. People called out greetings to us, and a couple of girls complimented my dress.

  I leaned into Easton and whispered, “Are we in some parallel universe?”

  He laughed, responding, “They’re not all so rigid as Tiana and her followers. They know who you are, and what you did. You saved the life of their future king, after all.”

  That last part was added with a smirk. He never talked seriously about his future and what was in store for him when his grandfather decided to step away from the throne. I assumed it was because of me and my initial reaction to finding out he was heir to the Sylph throne.

  I’d freaked out a little.

  I hip-bumped him and he chuckled. When we reached the dance floor, he pulled me into his arms. A soft, slow love song was playing, and I thought I recognized it.

  “Is this Titania’s Handmaidens?”

  “You know this band?” he asked, his eyes wide.

  “Yeah. Shaela played their music for me. I like it.”

  As if my speaking her name, Shaela appeared beside us, Charles in tow.

  “Hey, guys,” she greeted us. “Is this awesome, or what?”

  “It’s beautiful,” I agreed, glancing around at the decorations.

  Charles spun Shaela around, sending her flying outward before twirling her back in toward his chest. Then he dipped her backwards, pressing his mouth against her throat before pulling her upright and snuggling her against him.

  I giggled at his antics, my laughter fading into a soft smile as I saw the joy written all over my best friend’s face. She was so happy. Just like me.

  I looked up at Easton, catching his eyes on me. We stared at each other, nothing but the music between us, as we swayed back and forth to the slow beat of the melody. His aura flashed from pink to yellow and back again before swirling into some mixture of the two.

  Then something caught his eye over my shoulder and the color drained from his face. It drained from his aura, too, turning it the bright-white of fear before it darkened into deep blood-red. But I didn’t need to see his aura to tell he was angry. It was written all over his face.

  I stiffened, mentally preparing myself for a face-off with Tiana. I was certain she was standing behind me ready to spew venom or share some ill-begotten video footage of me doing something that appeared to be sinister.

  Easton’s grip on me tightened, but I pried my hand from his and spun on a heel to face my tormentor. My head cocked to the side in confusion. Tiana was nowhere to be seen.

  A man I’d never seen before stalked toward us, his eyes intent on Easton. His white-blonde hair was swept back into a ponytail at his nape, and his light blue eyes shot sparks in our direction. His lips turned up into a snarl as he closed in on us, and I widened my stance, ready to defend myself…and Easton, if need be.

  The man ground to a halt, his eyes raking across my hair and wings before focusing on
my eyes. He looked angry, and disgusted, and…exactly like Easton. Only older.

  Easton’s next words confirmed my suspicions.

  “Hello, Father.”

  CHAPTER 5

  “Mind if I steal December for a dance?”

  The words came from behind us, and I turned to see Cris standing there, an uncertain look on his face. My eyes widened and I forgot all about Easton’s dad as I took in my own father’s appearance.

  He was wearing a tuxedo and looking very dapper, but that’s not what had me spellbound. It was the pair of wings protruding from his back. They were beautiful. Sparkling in the light of the candles scattered around us.

  And they were violet.

  Easton nudged me toward him and I paused, unsure of what to do. I didn’t want to disappoint my dad, but I also didn’t want to leave Easton alone with his. Before I could decide, Cris grasped my fingers and pulled me away.

  Taking me in his arms, he kept a respectable amount of space between us. His back was stiff as he guided me through the steps of the dance. Once I had it down, he relaxed a little.

  “Easton will be fine, December. You don’t need to get caught up in the middle of his family feud.”

  I decided we could agree to disagree and didn’t respond. I couldn’t let myself get emotional in front of all these people. I was already getting some strange looks for dancing with a teacher. No one knew he was my father, and we needed to keep it that way.

  “So, violet, eh?” I said, smiling.

  “It’s tradition to wear your wings to these things. It’s a simple Glamour, as you know,” he said between clenched teeth and smiling lips. “And I knew you liked the color.”

  “I do,” I agreed, remembering the time we practiced Glamour and he had me change my appearance. I’d turned my wings the exact color his were sporting.

  “You look magnificent tonight,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I said, blushing. “Shaela loaned me the dress.”

  He opened his mouth to respond, but several loud gasps cut him off. We both looked toward the sound as the music suddenly cut off, leaving the room cloaked in a thick silence. A wide berth split open in the sea of students as an older gentleman made his way through the throng.

  Hushed whispers followed behind him, but before I could make out what the kids were saying, Cris mumbled, “Robin.”

  As I tried to place the name, a screech echoed through the gym as a blur of green shot toward the man. Shaela skidded to a halt in front of him, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears.

  “Grandfather?” she said, and her voice cracked with emotion.

  “Shaela, my dearest granddaughter,” the man said, making a show of taking her hand and placing a chaste kiss upon it. “This meeting has been a long-time coming.”

  Then his eyes flicked toward me and narrowed as he straightened to his full height. Keeping Shaela’s hand in his, he sauntered toward me and Cris. He stopped in front of us, his eyes perusing Cris’s violet wings with an arched brow.

  Could he see through my dad’s Glamour?

  “Grandfather, I’d like you to meet my roommate and best friend, December,” Shaela said. “December, this is my grandfather, Robin Goodman.”

  It was a little surreal that Shaela was introducing me to her grandfather like he was beloved relative when, as far as I knew, it was the first time she’d ever met him.

  His eyes left Cris and moved over me, taking in my hair, my wings, my dress. His expression was pleasant enough, but something just under the surface sent chills racing down my spine. I just couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

  “So good to finally meet you, December,” he said, holding out a palm.

  I placed my hand in his, and suppressed a shudder as he pressed his lips to the back of it in the same way he’d done Shaela’s. He straightened, giving me a polite smile. I tried to return it, but I was sure it came across slightly maniacal.

  I didn’t know why I was having such an intense reaction to him. I’d just met him, and he’d been extremely polite. Almost too polite. It seemed forced, and only skin-deep. My gut told me something was off.

  His eyes snapped to my father and something flickered in their greenish-blue depths. His teal wings quivered as he stuck out a hand toward Cris.

  “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure. Robin Goodman,” he said, his hand hanging in the air as he waited for my dad to take it.

  “Crispin Jonas,” he replied, taking Robin’s hand and giving it a firm shake. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Goodman.”

  “Please,” Robin said, with a jovial laugh, “call me Puck.”

  “Puck,” my father repeated with a respectful nod.

  “Now that we’ve properly met,” Puck said, clapping his hands together with a loud pop, “I’m afraid the time has come to end this farce you’ve been propagating.”

  “I’m sorry?” Cris asked, confusion lacing his voice.

  “No apologies necessary,” Puck said, one side of his mouth lifting into a smirk.

  “What are you talking about, Grandfather?” Shaela cut in, her face lined with worry.

  I was confused, but at the same time, filled with dread. My heart began to race as I looked around at the crowd forming around us. Puck had every eye in the place trained on him, waiting for his next words. I searched the sea of faces for Easton, but I couldn’t find him. Or his father.

  “What I’m talking about is this shoddy display of Glamour that has you all fooled.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. Cris’s gasp echoed mine, his hot breath huffing against the back of my neck. He grasped my elbow and tried to pull me behind him, but I held fast, keeping my body between him and Puck.

  But it was no use.

  Puck lifted a hand and snapped his fingers. Gasps of horror echoed through the room, followed by a murmuring that increased in volume by leaps and bounds. Shaela looked at Cris with pain in her eyes and I turned to see what caused it.

  Black wings. Black hair. Black eyes.

  “Oh, no,” I mouthed, but no sound came out.

  “I am sorry to be one to do this,” Puck said, projecting his voice so that every ear in the gym would hear it, “but the Sylphids at this school deserve to know who is teaching them. They deserve to know what he is.”

  Shouts of agreement came from the back, and Tiana’s bitter laugh grated on my ears. Cris was my mentor. He was important to me, so his downfall filled her with satisfaction. What it did to him didn’t matter. Especially now that everyone knew he was a Zephyr.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, but Cris shook his head and refocused on Puck.

  “Why are you doing this?” he asked.

  “I already told you. The students of this school need to know who’s instructing them. They need the truth, and you’ve given them nothing but lies.” His eyes moved to me, narrowing further. “But he’s not the only one who has lied, now is he?”

  I sucked in a sharp breath as the blood pumping through my veins froze. He couldn’t know, could he? My eyes snapped to Shaela and she moved her head, just a centimeter or two, in a negative motion. She didn’t tell him anything. She’d never even spoken to him, as far as I knew. Charles hovered just behind her, his handsome face lined with worry.

  “This Zephyr,” Puck called out, pointing an accusing finger at Cris, “has had you all duped for months. There is no telling what dark ideas he’s planted into your heads. What Sylphid secrets he’s shared with his brethren.” He paused for a moment, letting the silence hang like a shroud around him before adding, “What he’s told his mother, Sebille, queen of the Zephyrs.”

  My magic rose up inside me as he shouted those words. Cries of fear and disbelief echoed around me, but all I saw was Puck. He was a threat to my father, and my magic begged to be released, to wreak havoc across his lanky frame. To wipe that damned smirk off his arrogant face.

  Before I could let it loose to do its worst, Shaela jumped in front of him. I stumbled back a step, her sudden appearance shocking me o
ut of the magical trance I’d been falling into.

  “Please, D. He’s my grandfather,” she uttered.

  I swallowed hard and gave her a nod, taking another step back. The noise of the crowd rushed back in, flooding my ears with nasty words and jeering taunts. The students had completely turned on Cris, lambasting him for being a Zephyr, forgetting everything they’d learned about not judging other faeries by the color of their wings. Of course, Cris was the one who’d taught them that.

  “I can appreciate your loyalty to him, December,” Puck said in a booming voice, causing the room to fall into silence once more. “I’d expect nothing less. He is, after all…”

  Oh no. No, no, no.

  “your father.”

  CHAPTER 6

  Mayhem. Pure bedlam.

  Cris grabbed me around the waist and pulled me across the room, through the doors, and out into the hall, away from the chaos the gym had become. I must have been in shock, because I didn’t question where we were going when he grabbed my wrist and ran, dragging me along behind him.

  We didn’t stop until we were in his office, the door closed and locked behind us. Only then did I remember to breathe, and those breaths came out shaky and filled with fear.

  “What just happened?” I croaked out.

  “This is bad.”

  It was the understatement of the year. Robin Goodman just outed him as a Zephyr, as Sebille’s son. And as my father. It was way worse than bad.

  “What are we going to do?” I asked, dread rushing through me with every beat of my heart. “Everyone heard him.”

  “I’ll keep you safe, December.”

  “I’m not worried about me,” I snapped with a slash of my hand. “I’ll be fine. It’s you that I’m scared for. What if they fire you? What if they make you leave?”

  Me. That’s what I really meant. What if they make him leave me? I only just found him. I couldn’t lose him.

  “Sebille, herself, couldn’t drag me away. Don’t worry. Finn already knows the truth and his is the only opinion that matters.”

  “But the students…their parents…”