Last night, I dreamed of watching the moonflowers in Cairn’s garden bloom, but when I turned my head to smileat him, he wasn’t there, and the hand that I thought had been holding his was empty and cold.
Despite the fire burning in the hearth in the corner of the classroom, I shiver. I don’t usually feel cold—my fire magic keeps me warm—but I’ve been chilled for days.
I’m still staring out the frosted window, wondering if I may see a glimpse of Cairn through the ice, when all the students around me burst into motion, closing their heavy math books, slinging their bookbags onto their shoulders, and chatting aboutanythingbut trigonometry as they flee from their desks.
I’m one of the last students to leave the room, still in a bit of a daze. My feet feel slow and heavy, weighed down right along with my heart.
“You smell that?” Juniper asks from my pocket. We’re not supposed to bring our spirit companions to class, so she keeps herself mostly concealed in the inside pocket of my robe, with just her nose poking out.
I sniff the air, and my stomach grumbles. “Potato soup,” I say wistfully.
“And fresh bread,” Juniper adds.
Mathematics was my last class today, so I’m going to hurry back to the dorm, then meet up with the girls so we can go stuff our faces together in the dining hall.
The other students have already abandoned this hallway, leaving it empty and quiet. I’m just about to go around a corner when I hear voices up ahead.
“The Wilder girl’s been awfully cozy with the minotaur lately, from what I hear. Someone saw them going back to his place on Samhain.”
My pace slows, boots falling silent on the stone floor.
The voice is female, but it’s not young enough to be a student—a professor, then.
She continues, “What exactly is she doing for community service?”
There’s a chuckle from whoever the professor is talking to, and then an older male voice says, “If he’s caught, he’s toast. They’ll cut him loose before word even has a chance to get out. You know Moonhart hates scandals.”
“You’d think he’d be more careful,” the woman says, her voice getting quieter, like they’re walking the other way from me down the hall. The last thing I hear her say is, “Just a matter of time.”
In my robe pocket, Juniper goes very still. My fingers curl into fists, and I have to actively fight down the heat and fear rising inside me.
They know.
Someone saw us on Samhain. I was certain it wouldn’t be a problem—I was helping him with the booth, and then the storm hit. Of course we had to go somewhere to wait it out. And I’d assumed—stupidly—that everyone was too drunk on honeyed mead to pay any attention to what Cairn and I were doing.
But like so many times before, I was wrong.
My stomach drops. Suddenly, potato soup doesn’t sound very appetizing. Nothing sounds very appetizing.
This could ruin him, I think.I could ruin him.
That’s not what I want—it’s never been what I want. Even though I’m angry with him, with myself, with the mother who abandoned me, I don’t want him to sufferbecause of me, don’t want him to be cast out, labeled as something he’s not. I’m not sure I’d be able to forgive myself if that happened to him.
“Are you okay?” Juniper asks softly, pulling me back to the present, where I’m still standing frozen in a narrow hallway in the mathematics corridor, my bag weighing heavily on my shoulder.
“I... I...” My hands itch with heat. Fire wants to spew from my fingertips, but I hold it in. “I don’t know what to do. If they’ve found out...” I bite my lip. “Have I ruined everything?”
“Of course not.” There’s a bit of movement, a tugging on my robe, and then Juniper climbs up to perch herself on my shoulder, hidden beneath my curls. Her fur is soft against my skin. “Nothing’s ruined. But he needs to know.” She puts her paw on my neck; she’s warm from being tucked inside my pocket. “You’ll figure it out together.”
I give a small nod of my head. “Okay. Yeah.” I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “But I have to tell him soon. Tonight. I can’t wait until Saturday.”
Part of me is relieved at having an excuse to go see him, a reason to set my hurt aside for long enough to look into his eyes, to hear his voice, to breathe in his woodsmoke scent. But the other part of me wonders if it even matters anymore, if there’s anything to warn him about.
Because I might have already burned down everything that once blossomed between us. And it might be too late to heal the damage I’ve caused.
“BE CAREFUL,” POPPY TELLS ME as I pull on my thick winter cloak. “If there’re already whispers going around, you can’t afford to be spotted.”
“Byanyone,” Maeve adds. She’s draped on the couch, watching me from over the cushions. Poppy is sipping tea while Alina paces in front of the fire in the hearth.
