Every year, hundreds die within the walls of Basgiath War College. It's no surprise that many are those who choose the Riders Quadrant. Dragons do not tolerate much, but neither do the ruthless gryphons on the outside of the wards.
At least...
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・・・ ・・・ ・・・
The moment we're excused, still almost twenty minutes early, I rush out to catch up with Bodhi. He glances down at me as I saddle up to his side. I follow him through the doors, trying to not look suspicious. The crowd starts to spread out and I lean up to whisper in his ear, "I want to help." His step stutters and his eyes instantly jerk down to meet mine. "For fuck's sake." He rolls his head to the side, grabbing my elbow like Xaden so often does—or did—to pull me into a bypassed corner.
He looks purely exasperated, which I don't blame him for. "I have direct instructions to keep you as far away from 'helping' as possible," he sighs, flicking up his brows in a challenge. "He's not even here, and he's still giving you orders?" I argue. His face contorts into a pinched expression, telling me he's annoyed about it to some degree. "That tactic isn't going to work on me, because yes." He shrugs with a cock of his head and I turn mine away. "And I thought you were the most reasonable of the group," I mutter to myself before looking back at him. "C'mon. Give me a job."
"Oh, I am the most reasonable in the group," he assures me with a snarky but playful grin as he rocks back onto his heels. "I also don't have a death wish. Surviving is your one and only task." I roll my eyes. "They trying to talk you into letting them join the shenanigans?" Imogen asks, rounding out by us. "'Trying' is the precise word," Bodhi tells her. "Only trying." Then he slides against the wall and disappears into the crowd. I expected to be able to see him as he walked away, considering I could always see Xaden and they look so similar, but he nearly vanishes the moment there's someone in front of him.
"You all expect me to just sit around, taking notes in class like nothing happened?" I ask. I jump to follow her when she turns to walk away. Violet and Quinn are waiting ahead, standing near the canteen doors. "Acting like nothing happened," she corrects quietly. "That's the deal we all made when we came here." She reaches across her torso with her left hand, shuffling her bag and putting her rebellion relic right in front of my face. "Like it or not, you're one of us." "I always have been. That's my point. Stop excluding me. I know things—" "And we're all out that knowledge if you're dead. You're helping by surviving."
She looks away toward Quinn, nodding her head toward her and inviting her to lunch. It's so casual, much unlike the way my eyes land on Violet with the weight of a body. Liam's body. I look away. I have too many questions for her.
"I need to talk to you." I sigh as I look her way again. She glances around, noting the hallways are mostly empty now. Everyone's either made it inside the cafeteria, waiting for lunch to be served, or have run to their rooms. "I wanted to tell you before breakfast but didn't get a chance. I think the school is hiding something from us." I drag in a breath and pretend it's a yawn to stop from choking right in front of her. "Sorry?"
