by Angel Lawson
Instantly Rupert’s nerves and insecurities return. “You mean sex.”
“I mean a close, intimate bond.”
“That’s not how I operate.”
“I know, and look where we are? We’re losing, and we’re going to continue to do so unless we come up with a plan.” The word plan catches his attention. “You like maps and plans and strategies, right?”
“I do—they’re concrete and unemotional.”
“What if I made a plan for us. Or even a map.”
“To what end?” He’s interested but nervous.
“Getting us aligned.”
“What would that involve?”
“You’d have to trust me.”
His lips turn down. “I do trust you.”
“Not just on the battlefield, but personally. Intimately.”
He jumps up and gathers his things. “No. I can’t do that, not even with a fucking diagram.”
I’m on my feet, reaching for him. “Rupert. You can’t keep running away from me. I’m telling you, this may be the only way.”
“There’s always another way, Hildi. Always.”
I curse myself as he walks off, knowing I pushed too hard and fast. Even a snail's pace is too much for him. It’s not a total loss though, I think, gathering my trash. If we’re right, each of the Immortals came through the portal with a trait or an ability that has enhanced.
I plan to find out what they are.
7
Armin
It’s the shadow moving under my door that makes me put down my book and stand. I haven’t taken a step when the door flies open, slamming into the wall.
Rupert and I stare at one another, his jaw dropped.
“Did you do that?”
“No?” Maybe? “Probably the wind or a ghost. Who knows with this place.” I look at the prince. “Do you need something?”
He tugs at his hair. “Hildi came to me with a theory.”
I walk back over to the sitting area, where I’d been reading a book on shape shifting that I found in the library. “What kind of theory?”
“About all of us—about our abilities enhancing once we came across the portal. Like psychic connections or,” he glances at the door, “the ability to move obstacles out of the way.”
“How is that an enhanced ability?”
“I’ve seen you obliterate entire armies with one well-defined strike. I’ve watched you glide across ravaging rivers. Pluck the weapons from an enemy’s hands.” His eyebrow raises. “It’s not so farfetched.”
I flex my fingers and slide a glass on the table from one side to another. “It does seem to be changing.”
“We need to hone these skills and find out what the others are.”
“And Hildi, what does she think hers is?”
“Balancing the rest of us.” His cheeks flame. “She thinks that creating a bond like the Guardians have with Morgan will make us stronger.”
I think of having her in my bed, being between her legs, how powerful and connected to her it makes me feel.
“Do you agree?” he asks, watching me closely. “You’ve slept with her.”
“I guess you knowing that is a testament to your abilities.”
“Yes.” He leans back in his seat. “I can sense her emotions, especially when they’re heightened. Do you think it’s possible? That she’s meant to balance us?”
“It’s possible, but I know she’s fucked Marshal more than once, and Miya cured her of the vampire poisoning. Neither of them seems to have changed.” I run my hand through my hair. “But there’s something about her, and I don’t think I’m the only one that senses it. She’s bigger than me—all of us.”
“Like Morgan. Her powers were more than one man could handle.”
I nod. If the Guardians can share one woman, if she has so much to give that it can be spread between five incredible warriors, the same could be said of Hildi.
“What about Roland’s accusation? That we’re not here to have fun. We’re letting our cocks make decisions for us.” He grimaces. “For you.”
I snort. “You don’t think that’s what you’re doing? You’re letting the baggage you’ve carried around all these years about women interfere with our mission. You’re already letting your cock make decisions for you.”
That gets his attention. “And you think the mission is being with Hildi."
“Look, Rupert, if you’d asked me before the Guardians freed us, I would have said no. But I’ve watched them with Morgan. There’s a bond. A genuine, gods-created bond. It gave them the strength to kill the Morrigan. If there’s even the slightest chance that Hildi can provide balance to the five of us, maybe it’s less about sex than it is winning this thing.”
“So it’s a strategy?” He scratches his chin. “That’s what she said.”
It hurts. I can admit it, at least to myself. It hurts to know that our intimacy is nothing more than a gods-created dynamic. But that dynamic may be what we need. Maybe I’m not the only one that needs Hildi to tear down walls.
“Yes,” I reply, watching his mind work, slowly wrapping around this concept. We’ve spent so many years together, fighting side by side, surviving against the will of others. Through all of that, we all knew something was missing. We’d always thought it was freedom.
Maybe it was something--no, someone--else.
8
Hildi
I take the long way back from the library, cutting across the academic hall. One thing that’s been bothering me is Christensen. Where is he? What happened?
I slow when I near his office, checking to make sure no is around. I ease up to the door and press my ear against the wood. Quiet.
I pull a sharp, thin blade out of my boot, something I’ve started carrying after the night with the monsters. It’s not like I’m going to hurt one of them with something so small. I mean, it has six eyes. Stabbing one would do nothing. But still, it can come in handy. Like right now, as I slide it in the key hole and use it to pick the lock.
The lock springs, and I quickly step inside. There’s a small light in the corner, casting a faint glow. A quick scan of the messy office makes me think nothing has been moved since the last time Christensen was here. When was that? After we met with Roland?
I step toward the bookshelf, looking for something—anything—but nothing seems out of place. Rows and rows of books in languages I don’t understand. Rupert should be here instead of me.
I’m about to give up and leave the room when I notice a narrow door at the back of the office. A closet, surely, but I’ve learned that nothing in this place is what it seems. A mirror, a door, a stone, a key, a monster…
I approach the door and place my hand on the smooth, metal knob. I give it a careful twist, but the door itself swings open hard and a hand shoots out, catching me by the throat. I lash out with my hands, my feet, grappling with the fingers clenching around my neck.
“Fuck,” a gruff, deep voice says, releasing me.
I swallow in a gulp of air and look up at my attacker.
“Agis? What the hell?”
His brilliant eyes are wide—concerned. “Gods. Are you okay?”
I rub at my throat. “I think you snapped a bone.”
He grimaces. “I’m sorry. I had no idea it was you.”
“I guess we know spidey-senses aren’t your unique power," I mutter.
“What? Spidey who?”
I shake my head, not wanting to explain pop-culture to a barbarian. “What are you doing in here?”
“I assume the same thing you are; trying to figure out where Christensen went.”
My eyes sweep the room once more.
“Did you find anything?” he asks.
I look down and see a book in his hand. “What’s that?”
“Just a book. Nothing exciting. I figured I’d pass it along to Rupert.”
I reach for it and although I sense slight hesitation, he hands it over. There’s a stamped design on the cover—a symbol
that’s vaguely familiar—but that’s how half the imagery in Academy feels. I flip open the cover and the inside is mostly abstract drawings and short passages of curved, foreign script.
“Good luck deciphering that.”
He takes it back and snaps it shut with a clap. “Like I said. It’s for Rupert.”
The academic side of war is clearly not his interest. Not that he’s unintelligent, he’s just more brawn than brains. It’s obvious why. Physically he’s molded from the gods' personal clay, his body made of solid muscle. He’s too big for this tiny office, looking like an actual giant. A quick look at his hands and I’m surprised he didn’t actually snap my neck.
“Do you think he’s dead?” I ask.
“It’s a possibility, but Christensen is beyond the realm of physics. I’m not sure death is something that applies to him.” He and rubs his forehead. “I’m not sure what rules apply to him.”
“Well, I guess I’ll head back to my room.”
He nods and gestures for me to go first. I take a step, when I hear the door knob rattle. I glance up and see that Agis heard it, too.
He moves so quick, so fast, that by the time the lock springs on the door, he’s shoved me into the closet and closed us inside. The space under the door provides a sliver of light. It’s not a big space and we’re crammed in tight. Neither of us make a sound, because it’s one thing to be caught in here, it’s another to be caught in here together. A student and an instructor.
Especially with how close our bodies are right now.
“See if you can find it. I saw it on the shelf the last time I was here.”
I don’t recognize the voices—probably some lackey Roland sent to get whatever he’s looking for. Whatever he’s looking for, he takes his sweet time, because five minutes later we’re still smashed together, and my foot starts to cramp. I shift uncomfortably.
“What are you doing?” Agis asks in a low whisper.
“I have a cramp.” Again, I twist, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Agis grimaces and he reaches one hand up and places it on the ceiling, fingers clenched. I grab onto him, pushing upward, stretching my feet.
He mutters a curse under his breath. “Stop moving.”
“I can’t, I just—” I squawk, the pain shooting up my leg.
Again, he reacts with speed and agility, and two things happen at once.
One, he lifts me off the ground, giving my legs room to stretch.
Two, he plants a hand over my mouth, cutting off the sound of my pain.
“For the love of all gods, stop. Fucking. Moving.” He holds me like that, pressed against him, as the minutes tick by. His hand is warm. His body strong and unwavering. I don’t move a muscle, not an inch, because the look in his eye is deadly. I think he literally may kill me if I disobey.
I don’t know how much longer we wait, but whatever the person in the office is looking for is either found or he gives up, because eventually the outer door opens and closes, and the room grows still.
Agis removes his hand from my mouth, and we stare at one another for a moment longer. I see the flicker of something in his eye. Something dark and distant. He releases me and I slide to the ground. I don’t want to admit it, but I feel wobbly on my feet and instantly miss the way our bodies felt next to one another.
If he feels the same, there’s no way to know. When I get a good look at him in the light, his expression is tense. His jaw tight. I open my mouth to speak but he walks past me and opens the door. With a quick glance to the left and right, he’s gone. Vanishing down the hallway.
With a sigh, I follow, locking and closing the door behind me.
You’d think being locked in a small room with an ally would be a good thing—especially one so good-looking, but nope. Not with Agis.
If anything, I think things may be worse.
9
Agis
The short walk back to my room feels like it takes hours—but it’s nothing compared to being in the closed space with Hildi.
Gods almighty.
I step through the doorway and close the door, locking it behind me. I take my first real breath since entering that closet. I wince in pain, gripping the leather chair by the fireplace, willing my cock to behave.
I’ve been on a hair trigger with that woman for weeks, my body reacting despite all efforts of control. I manage it okay. Doing my best to ignore her in those tiny skirts made for children. The tight blouse. It was a relief when she stopped wearing them all the time. It sent my body—and mind—on overdrive.
Never have I been attracted to someone like Hildi.
And never have I known so deeply that I can’t have her.
I walk to the cabinet next to the fireplace and open the door, grabbing a bottle from inside. I don’t look for a glass, just uncorking the top and tipping it back. I swallow two mouthfuls and take a seat in the chair.
It was bad enough before we got here. Just her smell was enough to drive me wild, but I wasn’t in the place to think about women as anything other than objects. When Dylan told us she was going to lead us on this mission, I’d accepted it. I’d seen her fight, and I knew we weren’t completely cohesive after going through so much. Yeah, we’re brothers, from one life to the next, one shitty situation after the other, but leadership? None of us wanted to take that role. She could have it.
I was too fucking angry to care.
But after the night everything went to hell, after I watched her walk into the abyss, my body frozen—useless, things changed. She stepped up. She killed Garland. She held the key.
I’ve never been so terrified.
That’s not true.
Seeing Roland, that scared me. Not for my life, but for hers. Because he’s vindictive and petty. Sadistic and careless. He’s evil and I can see the glint in his eye. He wants to hurt us for betraying him and he’ll needle into each of us until he finds out what we treasure the most.
I already know it’s her.
But he doesn’t.
I look at the book I took from Christensen’s office, and I take another swig from the bottle, the alcohol burning on the way down. Roland won’t ever find out about my real feelings for Hildi, but he’s also not going to stop me from winning this battle.
I just have to be careful.
We all do.
10
Hildi
I head back to my room. I’m exhausted from the night before. Either that was the most vivid dream ever, or it really happened. Add confronting Rupert that morning and I’m ready for a nap.
I wonder briefly if Armin is in his room. He really is the best nap-partner.
My mind starts to wander, thinking about Armin and his body, his presence and the way we’ve become more connected. As crazy as this idea of a bond is, the two of us are proof of something greater. That night out on the ledge, he’d been strong and quick to save me. I’d been terrified, but…not completely. I felt safe with him and ultimately, he’d sacrificed his own body to get me back over the wall.
All of this runs through my head as I climb the back staircase to the dormitory. It’s the reason I don’t see the shadow to my left or process the soft footsteps just ahead.
It’s not until I’m slammed against the wall, hands holding me in place, that I realize I’m in trouble.
“What do you want?” I ask, feeling the hands roaming over my body. I’m in tight athletic pants and a sweatshirt, both damp from my workout. I manage to twist my neck, but just see masked faces. Two, no, three.
I shudder. I really hate masks.
“Where’s the key?” a voice asks. It’s muffled. Who is this? Luke? Roland? Marielle?
“It’s gone,” I reply.
“Liar.” The body leaning into me is hard. Masculine. “It’s on the grounds. I can sense it.”
My cheek presses into the stone wall, scraping against the rock. I grimace and say, “You’ll never find it.”
“No?” the person laughs. A numbing sensation rolls over me, then a fain
t tickle on my brain. What is that? What’s happening.
“It’s somewhere dark. Cold. Isolated.” Again, a flutter runs over my mind. A strong feeling of violation runs through me, curdling in my throat. I have no doubt whoever is holding me can infiltrate my mind. No, is infiltrating my mind.
Physical strength is my biggest asset, and I have nothing else to rely on. I focus on the wall in front of me, channeling my energy. Claws pick at my mind, trying to get to my secret.
“No!” I cry, stomping on the nearest foot, crushing the toes. My elbow is freed, and I jab it backwards, smashing into ribs, then a face. The person behind me grunts and moans. I spin, my foot landing hard in one of the attacker’s stomachs. He grunts, and I breathe heavy, back against the wall. They’re all dressed in black, including the masks.
“Kill me if you want, but I’m not telling you where the key is hidden.”
“Killing you would be too easy—”
The voice is cut off by the sound of claws on the stone floor. Fear seizes me. I’m not scared of these attackers—but I am terrified of the shadow at the top of the staircase. A low growl echoes down the stairwell. It’s not human—an animal.
“What the—"
“Go!” one person says, and they take the opportunity to run.
I look up and then down, trapped between following my attackers and facing whatever’s at the top of the stairs.
The animal makes the decision for me, leaping over the railing. In the air, it transforms, morphing from four-legged beast to human.
Stunned, I press my back against the wall and stare at the boy in front of me. “Darius?”
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” I stand up straight. “That was pretty impressive.”
He shrugs. “You were holding your own. I figured I’d stop it before you kicked their asses.”
“Yeah maybe.” I look in the direction they ran off. “Any idea who that was?”
“No. I was just headed to the library when I heard you.”
