Page 11 of Blood Oath
What a creepy thing to say. It almost makes me like her.
She says four words in a language I don’t understand, but I feel them. Each word seems to wrap around me like a blanket, sinking into my chest to soothe the emptiness inside. It’s the strangest sensation, this warmth. Like it was supposed to be there all along.
And then, one by one, three legacies light up in the crowd. Their Houses quickly part so they can make their way through, but I still can’t see what they look like because of the multitude of people. There sure is a lot of whispering going on.
Three matches? This can’t be happening.
But then a fourth one appears—literally just appears—directly in front of the stage before he saunters up the steps, his consuming gaze trained on me. His dark hair is messy, sweeping over his forehead except on one side where it’s close-shaved, revealing that the mix of pale and dark swirling tattoos on his neck and arms also extend onto his scalp. His ears have multiple piercings, and a barbell piercing glints at the end of one of his eyebrows. His irises are a rich purple flecked with silver.
By the strong reactions of everyone watching, including the interim headmaster, I put two and two together and realize who this must be. After all, I’ve been hearing rumors about his whereabouts for two long weeks.
Crypt DeLune. An incubus better known as the Nightmare Prince.
He’s the infamous illegitimate son of a member of the Immortal Quintet. Even without breaking his curse, he’s made a name for himself. They say he’s unhinged. A sociopath. He left the university five years ago without any matches. Now, I’m pretty sure every other unmatched legacy in the audience breathes a sigh of relief that he’s no longer a possibility for them.
Crypt stops at my side without a word, but I can still feel his attention on me.
And if being matched to the Nightmare Prince wasn’t enough of a problem, I recognize the next person to ascend the stairs. Chillingly beautiful, with white-blond hair and crisp, perfect features. An ice elemental model turned professor: Everett Frost, heir of the wealthiest family of legacies in existence.
The whispers are increasing, but Professor Frost doesn’t look at me as he takes his place on the opposite side of the stage.
I’m so shell-shocked that it takes me a moment to realize my next match has stopped directly in front of me. I have to tip my head back to see the imposing shifter better, and I groan internally.
Baelfire Decimus’s amber eyes gleam with nothing short of hunger as he flashes me a toothy smile. His dirty blond hair and tanned skin make him look like the epitome of a golden boy. I’ve never seen him this close-up since I’ve carefully avoided him and every other highly-ranked legacy at this school for the last two weeks.
We’re not supposed to speak during the Seeking, but he whispers, “Finally found you.”
Whatever that means.
When I give him no reaction, Baelfire just winks and moves to my other side. He stands close enough that I shuffle an inch away as subtly as possible.
The final legacy who joins us onstage has me barely refraining from cursing the gods out loud. Because I know him, too. How could I not? Even if we weren’t in the same House, everyone knows Silas Crane. The other casters practically worship him. He was mentored by the revered and deadly Garnet Wizard, who practically raised him after the rest of the Cranes all died within months of each other.
Now, Silas is the most cutthroat blood fae ever to attend Everbound University, and like all blood fae, he has dark curly hair, pale skin, pointed ears, and eyes red as blood. I quickly look away from his intense ruby irises as he moves to stand near Baelfire.
Fuck my life.
Why did my matches all have to be as high profile as possible? This is ridiculous. The gods must be laughing at me right now.
While the headmaster introduces us as a quintet and begins rattling off our names, I try to ignore the warmth humming through my veins at their proximity. I risk a glance to my right. Bael winks at me again while Silas's attention is firmly on whatever Headmaster Gibbons is saying. On my other side, Crypt still studies me. Professor Frost stares out at Everbound Forest just as I was earlier, as if he, too, would rather be anywhere else. Maybe he’s embarrassed that he’s been matched with a student, even though he can’t be much older than I am.
It doesn’t matter. I’m not staying matched with these legacies—or anyone else, for that matter.
They’re probably all insulted that the gods would pick someone like me as their keeper. I’ll use that to my advantage.
The moment we get somewhere private, I'll put us all out of our misery.
4
BAELFIRE
"...the keeper of this very impressive duet is Maven Oakley of the House of Arcana,” Gibbons drones.
Maven.
So that’s my mate's name.
I catch her looking and can’t help the smile that springs to my face just having this ounce of her attention. I wink, but once again, she turns away without an expression. It's fucking impossible to tell what this caster is thinking. I like that. She's a pretty little enigma.
