Chapter 42: _Could’ve Been An Email
Celeste’s POV
*****
"G–Good evening, professor."
My throat was already tight when I got in front of the Dean’s office. That tension only tripled when I met Professor Amelia waiting there with a small smile.
"Celeste," she beamed, opening the door. "Oh, good. You’re here. Come in."
When I stepped into the familiar white-painted room, I instantly noticed something... Different. The crystal chandelier above still shone with a soft red glow. Old books were still arranged meticulously on a shelf against the northern wall.
But—
The air. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com
It felt charged. Almost alive. And I recognised why before I even got to the Dean’s desk...
Wait.
"He’s not here?" I glanced back at Professor Amelia, pointing at the seat where the Dean was supposed to be.
The woman nodded, stepping out of the office. "He’ll be here shortly. Just sit and wait."
Sit and wait? Girl...
"Professor!" I spun back before she could shut the door. "W–Wait. Is this about anything in particular? Maybe the altercation between Lysandra and me?"
I knew why I asked. The woman had gotten to the scene where I flung Lysandra down those steps before I ran to my room. Could’ve sworn we locked eyes for a moment too.
"Relax, Miss Bloodoak." The professor said reassuringly. "You’ll have all your answers once the Dean shows up."
She shut the door after that, not giving me a chance to push further.
Great.
Curling my fists, I turned back to the desk with a lump in my throat. The dread from my conversation with Azrael and Atlas minutes back was still fresh in my mind.
Miss Benedicta’s body never made it to her family. And that same family was missing, while two words were left behind in Azrael’s room.
First Confess. Now choose.
"And our dear Dean might somehow be involved." I sat slowly in front of the desk. The seat’s cool leather surface cushioned my body as I took in a deep breath.
There was that feeling again.
Sparking through the office—from different nodal points etched into the walls—was something I was surprised I didn’t feel the other times I’ve been here.
Magic.
Not threatening. Definitely not monitoring or targeting me—I think.
But settled in the office, waiting and resting like it’s always been here.
Because it has.
I lifted my right hand slowly, eyes fleeting to the talismans behind the Dean’s seat. "He probably has wards placed here," I whispered, voice even. "I’ve never been able to sense them because of my low magic output. So..."
Why now? Why could I feel it now?
The altercation with Lysandra earlier today was still fresh in my head. My anger. My frustration. The embarrassment from how drawn out people made the gist of Azrael and me kissing.
Emotional overload.
Then the burst of silver energy triggered by that overload.
Generating enough energy to swat four people like flies—two of those people being magic users themselves—was no easy feat. Not for a hybrid who’s known nothing but weakness all her life.
"Aye," the sudden creak of the door behind me made me drop my hand. Then a voice boomed. "Celeste. Pardon the wait... I’ve been busy with something."
Dean Thorne.
"It’s... It’s fine, sir." I mumbled when he got to the desk, adjusting his robe before sitting. "Sir, I’m just wondering why I’m here. Did I do something—"
"Yes," he clasped his hands in front of his face, expression turning stern in a second. "First, we’ll start with what happened in front of the girls’ dormitory. Between you and Miss Carrington."
Pfft.
Of course.
Placing my hands on my legs, I straightened my posture. "Sir, I know you’ve probably heard a lot of accounts of what you think happened."
"What?" He arched his brow. "You mean the part where you flung her and her friends away like dolls? A feat which professor Hamilton says he’s never seen you perform in Supernatural Combat Theory class."
My jaw tightened. I didn’t have an answer to that.
Yet—
"She and her friends have bullied me since year one." I raised my voice a bit. "Today, they put effort into frustrating me. I–I couldn’t control myself."
"My point exactly, Celeste." He snapped his fingers like I struck a bullseye. "You snapped. You let your emotions guide you—"
"No offence, sir." Holding back sarcasm was a hard chore here. "But I’ve gotten this same lecture from my mother hours ago. I understand perfectly. I’ll focus on my hybrid-only courses and work on controlling my magic."
Silence.
Thorne stared at me for an unsettling amount of time, resting back on his desk. His right hand picked up a pen, tapping it rhythmically on his desk.
Gods, was my tone harsh? That would be surprising because I at least tried not to sound like an asshole.
But honestly... Fuck it.
"I’m the one who alerted your mother." The Dean finally blurted, setting his pen aside. "Caelum called me, worried about you after the... Picture of you and Mr Vaelmont spread out. Then Professor Amelia and other professors told me what happened between you and Lysandra—"
"And no one told you about how damaging that picture was." I didn’t know when I sneered. "You’re the Dean for gods sake. Why... Why is Blood Eye allowed to spread information like this?"
It made no fucking sense the more I thought about it.
"Blood Eye," Thorne coughed. "It has existed for years now. I don’t even know how they started but so far their news has been insightful and hasn’t caused harm at all."
A dry chuckle left my mouth. "Insightful?" I repeated, shaking my head. "Right. Because an image of a young woman having a private moment with her mate is pretty informative."
He parted his lips for a few seconds—but couldn’t say anything. So he sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I didn’t summon you here for verbal sparring," turning his laptop’s screen to me, he continued. "Lysandra is the least of my worries actually. My main focus is the bonds. And how they might be affecting you."
I furrowed my brows at the screen, eyes trailing between it and the Dean a couple of times. Until a picture came to life on the screen.
One that made my heart jump into my throat.
It was a picture of me, Silas, Atlas and Azrael. All standing outside an academic building. Under the evening sun.
What particularly got me worked up were the things we discussed whilst gathered back then.
Shit!
Did... Did the Dean know about—?
"Now I don’t care about whatever you were discussing with them." Thorne grabbed the laptop, turning it back to himself. Not realising how relieving those words were. "But I warned you, Celeste. Until we understand the bonds, you can’t be with all four of your mates at once."
My nose twisted. "But... but Luther wasn’t even there. And it wasn’t nighttime yet."
"He could’ve shown up unannounced." The Dean shook his head. "While we still don’t understand why those Vein beasts targeted you during the memorial... We do know all four of your mates were present."
I could see the stress lines piling on his forehead. He dabbed off sweat from his face even though the room was air-conditioned.
"I’m guessing your parents or brother aren’t aware of the bonds yet." He stated rather than asked. "You might want to keep it that way. Until we can understand what’s happening and why you seem to be at the centre of it."
Now that didn’t sound suspicious at all...
No one said a word for a while, the Dean typing something on his laptop. However, I soon remembered something.
"Sir?" I raised my hand. "That picture... Did one of the people you sent to watch me from a distance take it?"
The Dean didn’t answer immediately. He just squinted at his screen, typing a few more things. Then—
"You can say that." He brought his gaze to my face again. "But—"
"By the triple goddess!" I gasped, almost getting out of my seat. "That... That was NOT what you told me they’d do. It’s already bad enough that Luther is one of my bodyguards or whatever. Now the shadow agents you have watching me can just... Take private pictures of me?"
Thorne remained calm. "You were outside—"
"Just like I was when I kissed Azrael." My cheeks flushed. "Wait—did they take the picture Blood Eye posted too?"
"Nonsense." Thorne shook his head. "They’re only required to report anything that might prove a risk. You..." He closed his eyes, taking in a short breath. "Celeste, that’s enough. Do as you’ve been told."
I forced a smile at that last part but didn’t say anything.
Pointless.
"We can’t risk a repetition of the memorial attack." The Dean snapped his neck. "Not when we’ll be hosting our annual competition against White Flame Academy next week."
Oh... That was next week?
White Flame Academy was arguably the second-best supernatural academy after this. Located in France, they’ve had a not-so-friendly rivalry with us over the years.
Especially after my parents and their founder created a competition between both sides.
The Blood Trials.
A part of me wanted to point out how the school’s wards did nothing against the beasts during the memorial attack. But the other, worn-out part that wanted out of this office made me keep silent.
"Alright." The Dean nodded, pointing at the door. "That’ll be all. You’re free to leave."
Really?
This could’ve been a freaking email.
Holding back my grudges, I got up, quickly walking toward the door.
However—
"Hello?" Thorne picked up a call when I got in front of the door, making me freeze for a second. "Why of course. Rest assured everything is in order. It’s being kept in wraps."
I glanced over my shoulder, simultaneously grabbing the doorknob.
Dean Thorne had a phone glued to his ear, spinning his seat away from me and whisperirecognisedd’ve stayed back and tried listening for more... But I didn’t want any more trouble.
As I waltzed out of the office, the door shutting behind me, my mind wandered.
Could the Dean know something that the rest of us didn’t? Something about all the weird things happening? Or was this madness more complicated than anyone could imagine?
"Until next time, I guess," I muttered, moving down the hallway without looking back.
As I did, I felt the magic in the hallway recoil. Like it recognized me...