Page 10 of Blood Oath
Excited whispers fill the air as a woman dressed head to toe in white, including a shimmering veil obscuring her face, ascends the stairs. I swear she’s glowing slightly, and it’s not just from the blinding winter morning sunlight. Her movements are graceful and paced.
Professor Gibbons gestures to her since, apparently, she doesn’t plan on speaking. “This is the high prophetess Pia of the Temple of Galene, goddess of light. She is here to divine the will of the gods for each of you, but first, she will seek out the keepers chosen by the gods to lead their quintets. If you are identified as a keeper, please come forward and wait for your individual divination of matches.”
The prophetess makes an odd symbol with her hands, and it sounds like she’s muttering something under her breath. Maybe it’s a prayer, but I wouldn’t know since I gave up praying to the gods long ago. Everyone around me is holding their breath, straining to see the stage.
Then gasps ring out as legacies dispersed throughout the audience begin to glow. It’s not a faint glow, either—they light up like fucking lightbulbs. One of the fae casters beside me is so bright I flinch away, only to bump into a witch accidentally. I vaguely recognize her from my Intro to Runes course last year. I think her name is Sheila.
“Watch it,” she grumbles, squinting hard at me. “And you might want to get a move on before you’re the last one in line.”
Her meaning doesn’t sink in until I glance down at my arms and realize I’m glowing, too.
Shit. That’s not good.
How the fuck am I a keeper?
Maybe the gods just did this to mess with me. I don’t know if they’re omniscient, but if they are, they should know precisely why I refuse to be in a quintet—let alone lead one.
My moment of shock ends when Sheila nudges me forward. “You’re seriously the last keeper in our House still standing around. Come on, get up there and represent.”
I don’t like all the eyes on me as I weave through the crowd, clenching and unclenching my gloved hands. But I’d stand out much more if I tried to resist this, and attention is the last thing I want. At this point, it’s best just to see if some of my matches are here. If they are, I’m sure they’ll take one look at me and be more than okay with me rejecting the quintet. They can appeal to the gods for a new keeper, and I’ll be on my merry way.
The glow on my skin begins to fade as I approach the line of legacies waiting to go on stage one by one. Professor Gibbons is saying something but I’ve tuned it out, too busy stewing over this new inconvenience.
I’m so distracted with trying to keep my head down that I actually make a little, embarrassing yelp when a manicured hand shoots out and pulls me to the very back of the line.
“Oh my gods,” Kenzie gushes in a whisper. “Can you believe we’re both keepers? What are the odds of that? This is amazing!”
I stare at her hand on my bare wrist until she lets go, offering an apologetic smile.
I must not be hiding my dread of going onstage very well because Kenzie grimaces. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. So nervous I might puke. But in a good way—is puking from excitement good? Whatever. I’m excited for you, too, May. I hope you get matched up with some really great legacies. Doesn’t everyone deserve their perfect matches?”
Her optimism gives me a headache, but I mean every word when I say, “Not everyone, but you do. Good luck.”
I’m the last in line, but the queue moves quickly ahead of us. Finally, we near the stage, and I can see what’s happening better. One by one, each newly identified keeper receives some sort of blessing from the prophetess. Then they stand in the center of the stage as any matches they have light up and make their way through the crowd, ascending the stairs. The headmaster announces each member by name, formally introducing the new quintet before excusing them.
A few quintets leave right away, probably to speak in private. That, or they’re already eager to fuck each other’s brains out. Not all quintets are romantic or polyamorous—some remain entirely platonic. But most quintets are made up of people who balance each other out, perfectly suited to work together as a group. That, combined with the typically high libido of their kind, tends to develop into sexual relationships sooner rather than later.
Finally, it’s Kenzie’s turn. She turns to give me a wide-eyed look before sashaying onto the stage. Pia, the prophetess, blesses her and steps back. For a moment, Kenzie scans the crowd, practically shimmying with excitement.
Then, one all-too-familiar vampire blurs onto the stage, and Kenzie wilts. I frown on her behalf because no fucking way is she supposed to be matched up with Luka, the vampire who bullied her for months before I got here. The one I hexed to make it impossible for him to have a boner.
A tall shifter guy and a dark-skinned elemental girl join them onstage. I only know the girl is from the House of Elementals based on her silvery-white dress, so I'm curious which element she can manipulate.
Professor Gibbons introduces Kenzie officially, along with her incomplete quintet. He adds that they’ll likely be here for the next Seeking to find their missing piece, and then they’re ushered off the stage. Poor Kenzie looks queasy about getting matched with Luka, and as they rejoin the crowd, I decide to find her as soon as this is over.
“And now for the last of this Seeking,” Gibbons says, waving me forward impatiently.
Being the center of attention of hundreds of hopeful legacies practically salivating over the chance of joining a quintet is not pleasant. I decide to ignore the onlookers altogether, staring instead at Everbound Forest in the distance, well past the courtyard.
Time to get this over with.
Pia steps up behind me and rests her hands gently on the crown of my head. I wince momentarily before relaxing because, oddly enough, her touch doesn’t bother me. Her voice is smooth and so soft that I’m sure only I can hear her.
“Maven, who has chosen the last name of Oakley.”
I frown. No one knows that Oakley isn’t my surname. I had to have a last name when coming to Everbound University, so I’d adopted Lillian’s.
“Have no fear, my fearless one,” Pia whispers, sounding like she’s smiling behind that veil. “I know you far better than you might think. Perhaps better than you know yourself.”
