by Wendi Wilson
“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.”