Olivia laughed almost manically. “That’s just perfect.”
Harper’s mouth tightened, her eyes narrowed dangerously as she turned toward Morgan, humiliation and disappointment coloring her cheeks.
“What the hell are you playing at?” Venom all but poured from her question, any neutral ground between them ripped away. She tried to yank her hand back, but Kalvin refused to let go. Pink strands of magic snapped around Harper as she lost control, the tiny sparks sinking into him.
The big guy grunted in pain, his eyes dilating until they were nearly pitch black.
Harper sucked in a sharp breath, falling silent, her attention riveted on Kalvin. Morgan watched as a vine slowly crept across the back of Harper’s hand to twine about her wrist in a swirl of black and green. A single leaf unfolded slowly among the thorns.
Both Harper and Kalvin remained silent as they gazed at each other, their dumfounded expressions turning into wonder, then joy.
As the magic touched Kalvin, she realized what had been hidden from her—he was the same species as Ward—whatever the hell that was. He was merely untried, the potential to be a phenomenal fighter and hunter hovering out of reach, waiting to be triggered.
Waiting for his mate.
Kalvin drew Harper into the protection of his body, glaring with narrowed eyes at the crowd around him, searching for any threat. And not liking what he saw.
“Good riddance.” Olivia’s gleeful expression had soured. “He’s worthless as a protector anyway. You’re welcome to him.”
As Olivia whirled and stormed away, Morgan resisted the urge to cheer.
Harper looked pissed, twisting to stand protectively in front of Kalvin. When she went to follow Olivia, Kalvin wrapped his large arm around her tiny waist, easily holding her to him. “She’s not worth it.”
“Let’s give the new couple a little privacy.” MacGregor made a shooing motion with his hand, taking control of the scene, and the kids scattered.
The students stared at her speculatively as they passed. Finding a mate was rare. Matching a person to their mate was an unheard of trait…and very valuable.
Great.
Way to fly under the radar.
If she hadn’t been noticed before, she sure as hell was now.
To her surprise, most of the students seemed respectful, almost protective of her. While Morgan didn’t trust it completely, she was grateful for the reprieve.
“How long have you known?” Harper’s voice was low and demanding as she barged into Morgan’s personal space, much too close for comfort.
Morgan scowled, propping her hands on her hips. “First you were mad when I said he was your mate, now you’re mad and suspect me of keeping him from you. You can’t have it both ways.”
Harper took a slow, deep breath, as if to calm herself. It didn’t work. “Answer me.”
Morgan nearly snorted when her question came out even more demanding. “I spotted him at the Academy only yesterday. Instinct warned me that he needed to stay at the Academy. But I didn’t know why…until just now.”
They both gazed at her speculatively, and Kalvin pulled Harper against him, as if unable to stop touching her. “She’s speaking the truth. If not for her interference, we would never have met.”
Morgan edged away from the couple as people crowded around to congratulate them, and her heart suddenly ached at the wonder in their eyes when they looked at each other, the way they couldn’t bear to have any distance between them.
“You did good, lass.” MacGregor spoke from behind her, and she twisted away, shrugging off his compliment.
“They would’ve found each other eventually.”
He raised a bushy white eyebrow. “Balderdash. You—”
“Were you able to discover what race Kalvin descended from?” Morgan interrupted him, not wanting to field any questions she didn’t know how to answer.
Taking the hint, the old man rubbed his chin. “There are a couple of possibilities. He’s not a shifter, and whatever magic he possesses, it is contained, more likely a recessive trait.”
He patiently waited for her next question, knowing that she was working through the possibilities, but Morgan didn’t know how to piece together her suspicions.
“Have you seen him fight?”
MacGregor gave her a subtle nod, his eyes sparkling with interest. “He has potential, but he lacks the most basic training.”
“I saw someone fight today in a way that I’ve never seen. The way he moves—it’s like how they describe the ancient warriors in your old books. He’s all fire and brimstone, death and violence. He was fighting a dozen elves and still three moves ahead of everyone else. His violence was infectious. The need to battle was seductive and hard to resist. I felt the pull fighting alongside him, an invincibility and confidence that the fight would end in victory. Given time, I think he would’ve been victorious against a dozen trained elven guards. If I’m right, Kalvin is the same species. I think he’s a—”
“Careful, girlie.” The description captured MacGregor’s attention, his posture slowly stiffening with each word.
Her mouth snapped shut, and Morgan tensed when she saw his eyes flick upward.
A telling reaction.
They were being watched.
The space was like a fishbowl, the guards prowling around the perimeter of the room and walking the balconies above the main room, always observing.
Funny, she didn’t feel any safer with all the extra protection.
They didn’t feel like guards.
She called them what they really were—jailers.
Morgan couldn’t help but wonder what they really wanted. Elves never did anything out of the goodness of their hearts. The students were collected and brought here for a reason.
She needed to find out why before it was too late.
Chapter Eight
“Why don’t you allow your guys to get you settled? We can talk more later.” MacGregor patted her shoulder affectionately. “I’m glad you’re here.”
Morgan watched him limp away, her stomach sinking to her toes, wishing they were anywhere else.
“Come.” Draven dragged her away, nodding to a nearby doorway. “Why don’t you take a few minutes for yourself and wash?”
Morgan could’ve kissed him.
A few seconds alone sounded like heaven. “Where’s Atlas?”
The silence behind her was so loud it rang in her ears. She slowly came to a stop and turned. Both men found the rest of the room fascinating, refusing to meet her eyes.
“Did he not make it through the portal?” She went cold at the thought, her ire rising. “You said he—”
“He arrived with us yesterday.” Draven faced her, his eyes going hard. “We haven’t seen him since.”
Morgan stiffened.
Disappearing that way wasn’t like Atlas.
“Tell me exactly what happened.” She couldn’t get over the itch between her shoulder blades, instinct warning her that Atlas was in deep shit.
“We fought to stay at the Academy. We all thought you were still there, but the school didn’t give us much choice. Once we passed through the portal, Atlas was the first to figure out where we landed. He guided us toward the castle, towing along more and more students as we found them. We had almost arrived when the elves sent out their welcoming party.”
She could only imagine how welcoming they had been.
“The last time we saw him, he was surrounded by his own kind.” Ryder’s voice was low and rough, barely human. His eyes had returned to their whisky color, his wolf retreating enough for him to finally speak. Compassion tinged his voice, as if suggesting Atlas abandoned them…abandoned her.
She refused to believe it.
“He remained at the Academy for a reason.” He was one of them, even if he didn’t admit it to himself or anyone else. She wouldn’t give up on him, even if they already had. “We need to find him.”
Neither Draven nor Ryder disagreed, though they didn’t appear very enthusiastic about the prospect. They shared a look, and she knew she wasn’t going to like what they said next.