“Did you notice which students are present?” His tone was gruff as he nodded to those practicing.
It only took her a moment to make the connection. “Witches with significant magical talent, and many of the elites—most of whom are less than human.”
“The Academy sent every student who could survive the magical atmosphere of the primordial realm.” Morgan watched as a number of people began to break away from their groups and follow them, one at a time.
“So, do you think the attack was a way to flush me out, or a way to force us into the primordial realm?” She didn’t want to tell him what she suspected…that by removing them, no one would be left to protect the world while primordial creatures fled the realm.
MacGregor shook his bushy head, while watching everything around them, as if waiting for an attack. “Both?”
“But why?” Harper pushed her way forward, and asked the question that was at the tip of Morgan’s tongue, but she’d been too afraid to ask.
Morgan feared she already knew.
Her.
“Isn’t it obvious?” Olivia sauntered over, disdain etched on her face, her sneering look sweeping over the group. “The Academy has been under attack in one way or another ever since you took up residence. Do you really think it’s a coincidence?”
Her snide voice carried across the room, drawing people’s attention, and a crowd began to gather. Two familiar hunters strode forward, distrust on their faces as soon as they saw her, and she recognized them from the first day of training—Tweedledum and Tweedledee. They were pissed when she was selected to train with Kincade’s team, no doubt feeling neglected and overlooked because she won a spot on the elite team and they had not.
Ryder bristled at her side, his low growl vibrating through his chest, what little control he gained over his wolf in the last few minutes evaporating. She grabbed the back of his shirt when he would’ve leapt forward to eliminate the threat. “Don’t.”
She was afraid if he acted his wolf would burst free. His fresh green scent had sharpened, the need for freedom rising sharply as his wolf edged forward. If he attacked and harmed a fellow student, he could be considered feral and banished, not only from the Academy, but the outpost as well—if not killed outright.
She would not allow anyone to take him away from her.
When Morgan marched forward to confront Olivia, Draven grabbed her arm, his eyes completely devoid of emotions—the assassin in him had taken over completely. The palpable need to eliminate the threat in any way possible, despite the consequences, was like a craving for him that he couldn’t control. “The elves warned us not to cause trouble.”
“Or what?” A trail of ice-old air ghosted over her skin at his grim warning. The change in him was so rapid, it was like a light switch had been flipped, and knots tightened in her stomach to see his control degraded to such a degree that the darkness in him was almost completely unrestrained.
“They will separate us.” He never once took his attention away from Olivia, as if poised to take action if the viper attacked.
Kalvin cut through the crowd toward them with a scowl, stopping at the edge of the circle, frustration oozing from him since he was powerless to do anything to muzzle his sister.
“You’re Neil’s sister, right?” Harper strode forward, her face hard, her voice full of condemnation. “How odd that you would show up the day of the attack.” She blinked innocently at the captive audience. “I mean, ever since you got here, you’ve been schmoozing with our hosts, spreading your legs for any who asked, doing everything to gain their favor.”
“How dare you!” Olivia stomped forward threateningly, only to back down when a thread of pink magic snapped between Harper’s fingertips. “They are the only good thing about this miserable trip that makes our stay here bearable.” She speared the group with her withering gaze. “I’m cultivating contacts. They’re the only ones here worth my time.”
Morgan couldn’t have been more surprised when Harper came to her defense, and she was unable to stop gaping at the witch, wondering who’d kidnapped the real Harper.
Energy gathered in the room, magic building, the mood turning volatile, a powder keg ready to explode. Morgan sensed something—or someone—was pushing them to this end, but couldn’t imagine why…unless the elves wanted their focus off of them and suspicions on each other.
Morgan moved to stand in front of Harper, willing to take the brunt of the attack, since most magic had only a minor effect on her.
Only it wasn’t needed.
“Enough.” Kalvin pushed his way through the crowd and edged between the women, standing protectively in front of Harper, glaring furiously at his sister. Morgan waited for him to back down, bow his head and submit, but he stood his ground. From the vindictive gleam in Olivia’s eyes, Morgan had no doubt he would pay dearly for standing up to her.
A curious energy rose from Kalvin, as if triggered by the possibility of violence, similar to energy she’d felt recently, and it took her a second to connect it to the same manic energy that swarmed Ward when he fought.
The need to protect, the delicious urge to tear into others spread through her veins. Despite knowing they were not her emotions, it was hard to separate herself from them. A few others were affected as well. They slid through the crowd like ghosts, reaching for their weapons, their only aim to kill anything that got in their way.
“We’re leaving.” Olivia snapped at Kalvin, as if sensing the shift in the room.
A muscle ticked in Kalvin’s jaw, and Morgan had no doubt Olivia had put a spell over the kid to force him to obey. He shuffled forward, his loyalties clearly torn, but ultimately he had no choice but to obey the one he’d sworn to protect.
Morgan couldn’t let him be taken.
“No, he stays.” If he left, she feared he would never be seen again.
Olivia whirled, her eyes throwing daggers. “You have no right. He’s under my—”
“I might not have the right, but she does.” Morgan pointed to Harper, then dropped her bomb. “She’s his mate.”
“What?” Three voices spoke at once with various shades of emotion.
Olivia was furious, while Kalvin looked so damned hopeful, Morgan’s heart hurt. Harper was flabbergasted. Harper and Kalvin turned to stare at each other, unable to tear their eyes away, their gazes lingering as if memorizing every inch of the other.
So much hope shimmered in their eyes that Morgan’s chest tightened.
That’s what finding a mate should be like.
A mate was a rare and precious thing. The connection between them would bind them together for life, make them crave each other’s touch. It would also make them risk everything to keep the other safe.
Growing up, she was surrounded by witches who perverted the connection and thought only of their own comforts. To her shock, she’d learned that most witches actually adored their mates.
Morgan mentally reached out and touched her own fractured connections, wondering how her own mating had gone so wrong.
“How do you know?” Harper’s voice was sharp, murder darkening her blue eyes, clearly thinking Morgan was cruel to offer such hope. “You can’t know.”
“I didn’t until now.” Morgan shrugged, unable to identify what made her so sure. When they stood next to each other, it was like two tuning forks with the same pitch were ringing in the silence.
“No one can know that.” Harper stalked toward her, fury tightening her features, magic snapping around her. “If you—”
“If you don’t believe me, then touch him. Trust me, you’ll know then.” Harper’s mouth snapped shut, and she looked flustered, even fearful, at the prospect.
Kalvin held out his hand, remaining mute during the whole conversation, a small tremor running through him as he patiently waited for Harper to approach, gazing at her as if she was a goddess come to life.
Almost reluctantly, Harper lifted her hand, her breathing jittery.
The audience around them fell silent in anticipation.
Their fingers met…and nothing happened.