by Bailey, G.
“You were the face of this revolution, Millie,” Hazel reminds me.
“Indeed,” agrees Hunter’s father. “You may not have been the only one, but you’ve been at the heart of it this entire time. It seems to me that your voice should carry weight as we decide how to move forward.”
I swallow hard, glancing over my shoulder out the window. The carnage is still widespread outside, and I catch a glimpse of Silas and Landon speaking to a couple of the other students. Silas’s eyes meet mine for a moment, and he winks at me, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that crooked smile I’ve come to love so much. They’re all looking to me, aren’t they? I realize.
“Whatever happens next,” I say, choosing my words carefully, “we need to make sure the humans aren’t in a position to take over the Academy again. The shifters have to be allowed to govern ourselves and decide how to educate ourselves moving forward.” I pause for a moment, hardly believing what I’m about to say, and then continue. “The Academy has to stay open, though.”
Ruby’s eyebrows knit together. “I beg your pardon?” she asks, blinking. “After everything that’s happened?”
“Look,” I reply, turning to her, “I get it. But we have to remember why the Academy was started in the first place—to help shifters, not to oppress them. There are still thousands of kids getting powers every day, with no way of knowing how to control them.” I take a shaky breath, glancing at Josie. “I was one of them. If you and Samantha hadn’t found me that day, I probably wouldn’t be here right now.”
“No one’s arguing that the Academy should stay open,” Hunter’s father agrees. “The question is how we want to rebuild. We need shifters we can trust running the Academy—no more of these human sycophants. From the President down to the instructors.”
“How about Josie, then?” I ask, nodding at the witch shifter. “She’s the reason I’m still alive. She helped me get my powers back.”
Josie gives me a melancholy smile. “That’s a kind offer, Millie,” she tells me, “but I’m afraid this fight has taken a lot out of me. I would be happy to stay on as a faculty fellow, or even a teacher, if that’s what you think is best, but I’ve never been leader material. You, on the other hand…”
My eyes go wide, my face blanching. “Me? President of the Academy?”
“She has a point,” Xander pipes up. “You have access to every shifter form, Millie. On top of that, you were the one who uncovered what the Academy was doing in the first place. I can’t think of anyone more qualified to be in charge.”
The idea is so absurd that I almost burst out laughing. Me? In charge of the school? Have they all lost their minds?! I was a student here less than a year ago… “I think you’re giving me too much credit, you guys.”
“Hardly,” comes a new voice. I lift my gaze to the door to see Hunter striding into the office, followed by Shade, Silas, and Landon. The gang’s all here, and I’m immediately put at ease. The vampire shifter, looking nothing like the meek, brooding guy he once was, moves to stand beside his father. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but there’s no one I would trust more than Millie to run this place.”
A surge of pride wells up inside me, and when my gaze drifts over to the other guys, the expressions on their faces—love, pride, and unwavering faith—nearly bring tears to my eyes. My mouth suddenly feels dry.
“Agreed,” Shade says, nodding.
“My parents would have thought the same,” Silas adds, a flicker of melancholy passing across his eyes. “It’s a shame they were never able to know you, Boots. Really know you, I mean.”
My eyes move to Landon, questioning. The siren shifter shrugs, grinning. “Ditto.”
Hunter’s father steps forward, extending a hand to me. “What do you say, Ms. Brix?”
I hesitate for a long moment, biting my lip. The idea of being in charge is intimidating, equal parts scary and enthralling. How long have I wanted to make a difference? How much thought have I given to what I would do after, when all was finally said and done? What would my parents think if they were around to see me now?
“I won’t be able to do it alone,” I say finally, gingerly accepting Hunter’s dad’s hand and shaking it. “And I’ll want to make sure we have people we can trust running this place. Clean out the corruption from top to bottom.”
“It goes without saying that you would have a say on the new order,” Josie says. “Considering how many instructors have died, we’re going to need to start by finding replacement professors. The sooner we can have things running the way they were meant to be run, the better.”
“Any suggestions as far as instructors?” Hunter’s father asks me. “I understand options are limited now, but…”
But a grin is already spreading on my face as I look around the room, from the guys to the twins and Hazel. “I wouldn’t worry about finding new teachers,” I reply. “I have a couple of ideas.”
“Nepotism strikes again,” Landon jokes, elbowing Shade and eliciting a glare from the wolf shifter. “Talk about putting the lunatics in charge of the asylum, am I right?”
Hazel groans, Hunter rolls his eyes, and I’m left to laugh, although whether from relief or at the bad joke, I can’t tell. It feels like a world I’ve been carrying on my shoulders for the past months has finally been lifted, leaving behind an immense lightness that not even the siren shifter’s bad humor can damage.
“The biggest trick the humans pulled was convincing us that we were the lunatics,” I remind the others. “This is the way it should be.”
Silas nods slowly. “The way it should be.”
Epilogue
Go figure, I think as I step out of Hawthorne’s office—my office, I remind myself—and into the administration hallway. And here I was thinking I would never be comfortable in this place again.
All around me, the school is decked out for the holidays: garlands, enchanted evergreen trees, and intricate wall sconces line the hallways. The smells of oranges and cinnamon fill the air, and outside, the campus grounds are covered in a fresh blanket of snow. Winter is upon us, and I couldn’t be more content.
It’s strange to think that months have already passed since Hawthorne’s defeat. Soon I’ll be turning twenty, and if there’s anything more surreal than that, I can’t think of it. To say that the transition has been an easy one would be dangerously sugar-coating it, and, not for the first time, I find myself basking in gratitude yet again. It’s been a rocky road. With new students trickling in everyday, courtesy of Josie and Amelia Ash, Samantha’s apt replacement, I’ve barely had a chance to breathe through it all. The guys have taken to teaching classes like ducks to water, and although some of their teaching styles—Shade’s and Landon’s, namely—are… unorthodox, to say the least, there’s no denying that they’re getting results.
Outside the window, a gaggle of new students sweeps across the quad, in a hurry to get inside and out of the cold. After some debate, we decided to forgo the uniforms moving forward. They did nothing except encourage stratification, which is the exact thing I want to avoid now. We need to start seeing all shifters as equals, and neither look down on the new students, nor give them inflated egos. Egos are where all these problems started in the first place.
I stretch my arms over my head, stifling a yawn. It feels like I’ve been in my office for two days straight, going over propositions from the board and requests from the faculty, who are all still getting their sea legs. I haven’t seen the guys in a while; between their work and mine, free time has been limited, and I find myself wondering if any of them is on an off period right now.
That was the biggest downside of taking over the Academy, one I didn’t foresee—although I probably should have. Love has had to take a backseat, and part of me still feels melancholy about that. This isn’t to say our passion for one another has dwindled in the slightest over the past few months—if anything, the distance has only made it stronger, and the guys are getting along better now than they ever have. B
ut that doesn’t make the distance any easier.
"The illusive headmistress makes an appearance," comes a voice from behind me. I turn around to find myself face to face with Hazel, her arm linked with Xander's. Walking alongside them is Landon, the expression on his face only slightly less humorous than usual.
"What are you doing outside your office?" he asks in a tone of false surprise. "I thought you pretty much lived in there now."
I roll my eyes, slugging him playfully on the arm before turning to hug Hazel. "Nobody told me there would be this much paperwork," I complain. "No wonder Hawthorne went crazy."
"You're no Hawthorne, Millie," Xander informs me. "And it sounds like you're already doing a better job."
"Don't give her a big head," Hazel tells him jokingly. "We'll have to deal with her if her ego gets as big as Landon's, here."
"I beg your pardon," Landon snarks back. "I wasn't the one who took a window out while showing off in front of my students."
Hazel flushes, but laughs it off. "Fair point, Thyme."
"So you and Ruby are sticking around, then?" I ask, turning to Xander. "We'd be lucky to have you aboard."
"There was talk of going back to Boston," the dragon shifter replies, "but I think the U.K. is more our speed. Besides," he adds, shooting a glance at Hazel, "I've got more than one reason to stay here."
"All right, you two," Landon jokes. "We all know you're adorable. You're making me self-conscious." Extending a hand to me, he asks, his voice suddenly surprisingly serious, "Do you want to go somewhere, Boots? I'm getting tired of looking at the inside of this building and I haven't been here nearly as long as you."
I meet his soft brown eyes and nod, slipping my hand into his. His thumb brushes other the pad of my palm, seeming to sweep away my stress and exhaustion all at once.
A moment passes, and then another, and finally Hazel coughs. "Let's give the lovebirds some space," she says to Xander, tugging at his hand. "Where did you say Ruby had gotten off to?"
"Giving the groundskeeper an earful, if I remember right," Xander responds, and they turn to go. "We'd better go track her down before she rips the poor man's head off."
"See you guys," Hazel calls to me and Landon over her shoulder as they retreat down the hall. "And happy holidays!"
Landon and I reciprocate the farewell, turning to face one another in the silence of the admin building. For a moment neither of us says anything. "So…" the siren shifter says finally.
"So…" I echo. It's a little awkward at first, considering that the last time we were together, there was a gaggle of first-year students waiting for him to start his lesson.
Landon takes a step forward, casting a surreptitious glance around.
"What is it?" I ask incredulously.
"Just making sure we're alone," he answers. "You know the rules about PDA."
I open my mouth to ask what he means, but before I can he's closing the distance between us, his lips brushing tenderly against mine. My body melts into his, and for a moment I forget where I am. It's funny how you can know someone for a year and still feel like you've been with them all your life. His hands go to the base of my skull, fingers twining in my hair, and I'm on the verge of wrapping my arms around him when my stomach suddenly lets out a loud growl.
I jump away from him, blushing furiously, and grin sheepishly up at my fellow shifter. "Sorry," I mutter. "I just realized I never ate lunch."
Landon frowns, glancing at the clock on the wall. "Better late than never," he says, grinning, "and lucky for you, I know a place in my hometown that has a great winter menu."
I raise my eyebrows. "Your hometown? You mean all the way in Scotland?"
Landon crosses his arms, eyeing me sternly. "Are you saying our master teleporter can't jump us a few hundred miles?"
"You're giving me too much credit," I inform him, but the admiration on his face is heartwarming nonetheless. "I mean, if you're comfortable with the possibility of being stranded in the middle of the ocean somewhere…"
Landon just chuckles. "Lucky for you, Boots, the ocean is kind of my place."
* * *
Maybe I'm not giving myself enough credit, I think as I sit at the booth at the end of the restaurant, watching as Landon makes his way back over from the counter, two steaming mugs of mulled apple cider in his hands. Even after having my powers amplified by Josie's potion, acknowledging my own ability feels craven somehow, like even after everything that's happened, I'm still not worthy of my success.
"You're thinking too hard, Boots," Landon informs me as he passes me one of the mugs. It's the perfect follow-up to the roast dinner that preceded it, as cozy as a home cooked meal, and damn near as comforting. "I can practically hear it, and I'm no witch."
"Sorry," I reply, cradling the cider in my hands. "It's just a little surreal, still. That's all."
"You're telling me," the siren shifter jokes. "I'm in charge of teaching these kids about the ethics of mind control. Me. Whose bright idea was that, anyway?"
"Mine, you ass," I exclaim, letting out a burst of laughter. "You're selling yourself short, Landon. Between you and Hazel, the students are in good hands."
"It's just strange to think that we were students here, not that long ago," Landon says, sounding thoughtful. "If you'd asked me a year ago where I thought I would end up, this is about the furthest thing from what I would’ve said." He reaches out with his free hand to take mine. "That said, though," he adds, his voice gone surprisingly soft, "I can't picture myself anywhere else."
"Would you still say that even if I weren't in charge?" I ask, only half joking.
There's no levity in Landon's expression when he nods. "I go where you go, Boots," he tells me. "You know that."
"Yeah." I take another sip of my drink, hesitating for a second. "Sometimes I don't believe it, though."
"Yeah?" He raises his dark eyebrows. "How come?"
I shrug my shoulders evasively. "It's not that I have a problem with how things turned out, per se," I explain, the sudden need to get my thoughts out almost unbearable. "It's just that, with everything wrapped up the way it is, sometimes I just feel like…"
"Like it's all too easy," the siren shifter finishes for me. "Like it's somehow not over."
"Right," I say, relieved that he understands where I'm coming from. "And even though Hawthorne is gone, who's to say someone like him won't show up again? The humans did it once already, and that was without having access to the ability to give themselves shifter powers."
Landon's expression turns somber. "Hawthorne was a symptom," he says pointedly, "not the cause. And if we're not careful, the humans will try something again. I wouldn't be surprised if they blew the lid off our existence completely, just to sow chaos."
"I'm not sure if I have another fight like that in me," I tell him, as honest as I can bring myself to be. The truth is that this past year has taken it out of me, and I'm sure I'm not the only one. None of us signed up for this, at the end of the day; we were as much victims of circumstance as the shifters who preceded us—the only difference is that we were in the position to do something about it. "If one of the other Academies lets their guard down, if they somehow manage to continue Hawthorne's experiments…"
"Then we'll stop them," Landon says, his grip on my hand tightening. "We'll end it the same way we ended this, and we won't stop until the world is safe for us. For all of us."
I swallow hard, suddenly overcome with emotion. This all feels like more than I deserve, especially after the carnage that has followed me ever since my arrival at the Academy. "I guess," I say slowly, "if I have you guys with me, then maybe it will be all right. No matter what else happens."
"And we'll always be with you, Boots," Landon tells me without missing a beat. "We're never leaving you. Ever." His hand moves up to caress my cheek, his touch surprisingly ginger.
I close my eyes, leaning into his touch as my hand covers his. "How did I get so lucky?" I ask softly, marveling at the fact that we're here,
we're alive, and that most of all, we're safe.
Landon just grins at me, the smile working its way through my chest to settle into my heart. "I could say the same thing to you, Boots," he says, and when he leans across the table to press his lips to mine, I reciprocate without a second thought.
The registrar's office is eerily peaceful when I knock on the door, still a little unused to being able to just waltz into whatever room on campus that I please. "You know you don't have to knock, Millie," comes Josie's muffled voice, sounding a little amused.
"Sorry," I reply as I step through the door. "Force of habit."
"Well, your timing is good," Josie replies, getting up from the desk and passing me a file of papers. "I have the latest dossiers on possible first year recruits. All I need is your sign-off, and then Amelia and I can head out again."
"At this rate we'll be overflowing," I say as I examine the documents.
"That's a good problem," Josie says with a smile, and then excuses herself.
Moments later, Amelia and Hunter emerge from the records room. "I'm just saying, I think you could stand to be a little harsher with your grading," she's saying to him. "People aren't going to learn if you don't incentivize them, Hunter."
"Positive incentive, Amelia," Hunter replies, stopping dead in his tracks when he sees me. A smile spreads across his face. "Someone really intelligent taught me that once."
I grin, ducking my head as Amelia turns to me. "Hey, Millie," she says. It's amazing how all her former hostility has melted away; fighting on the same side tends to do that to people. "How's it going?"
"Not bad," I reply. "I figured I would stop by and see if Hunter was around."
"I'll take that as my cue to leave," Amelia says with a sly smile as she heads for the door. "Don't get up to too much trouble, you two." And with a wink in her brother's direction, she's disappearing out the door.
