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Whispers of Power

Page 11

by Rory Miles

My gaze flicks up to meet hard, cold, steely gray irises that steal my breath. Carver could be a god himself the way his eyes carve through me.

“If she needs more help, Silverstone can provide it. Her affinities and patience are better suited for this”—he gives me a displeased once-over—“case.”

Now I’m a case? Lucky me.

Silverstone smiles at him in appreciation. “I’d be happy to work with her.”

Chancellor Tweed shakes his head. “No. I don’t like it. The last thing we need is a female anomaly working with a female professor.”

Yes, mustn't let the women conspire to take over the world. I scoff and mutter, “Give me a fucking break.”

Everyone glances at me, and I immediately regret not having better control of my mouth.

Professor Silverstone arches an eyebrow but draws their attention as she speaks. “Why don’t you enlighten me as to why my anatomy is a problem?”

Okay, she said it more professionally. Unfortunately, the paranormal world also suffers from sexism.

“It’s obvious,” the professor with oily hair cuts in. “If she isn’t worthy to remain in Diremount’s halls, you might sympathize. You know how you lot get with your cycles and your emotions and⁠—”

“I can assure you, my cycle doesn’t rule my brain.” She levels him with a look so full of frustration, it makes me wonder how often she deals with this bullshit. “Can the same be said for your extra appendage and how you go about selecting your teaching assistant?”

“Are you suggesting that I let my coc⁠—”

“ENOUGH!” Chancellor Tweed shouts, silencing them. Silverstone and the asshole both clamp their mouths shut but continue glaring at one another. “My decision is final. Raina Stone belongs to Vanguard, and Carver will tutor her.”

Carver shakes his head, jaw muscles fluttering. “Really, Professor Silverstone is the better choice⁠—”

Tweed slices his hand through the air. “Need I remind you that you are only here as a curtesy of the commander? You do not have the privilege of saying no.”

That’s right. Tweed had said Carver was a captain in the Paranormal Guard. I eye Carver with renewed interest. Why was he sent here? Did he piss someone off? He and Silverstone trade looks. Comrades stuck in the trenches together. The chancellor’s decision overrules theirs, and I’m betting money it has many times before.

Tweed turns to me. “This university will not tolerate aberrations. Understood?”

The silent part of what he’s saying whispers through my mind. Fall in line, or else.

“Yes, sir.”

He nods, studying his professors before side-eyeing me. “Why are you still standing here?” he snaps.

Jolting, I glance around to see if anyone else is surprised by the outburst, but they’re already murmuring amongst themselves. All except Carver. He’s studying me like a problem that needs solving—or a pest that needs killing. Being the sole focus of his irritation has the fine hairs on the back of my neck rising, my instincts sensing a threat.

I keep my expression unaffected as I stride toward the cluster of students that have also been sorted into Vanguard. More than a few back away as I approach. They don’t want to be associated with me, I realize, cold sinking into my bones. I guess this place won’t be much different from my high school. My steps slow and I assess them, their reactions, the way they put plenty of space between us.

It seems I’m already an outcast. I fight the urge to rub at the ache in my chest. Discarded, as always. I should be used to it by now, but rejection nips at my heels.

Ever watches me as well. I expect my potential friend to dismiss me, to preserve her own self-interest, but she surprises me by closing the gap between us. She stops at my side, glaring at everyone in warning, a soft growl rumbling in her chest. “Ignore those assholes,” she mutters. “They did the same to me. They’re obviously threatened by power like ours.”

“Careful, wolf bitch,” a guy with fiery red hair snaps.

“Or what? You and your fox will attack me?” Ever scoffs. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Just wait until combat class.” He flashes his teeth.

“Vanguard, with me.” Everyone snaps to attention as Carver storms toward us. He’s speaking in low tones to a few other professors who follow him.

A quick glance around confirms the lead instructors for the three other orders gather their students as well. Time to be herded like sheep.

“Are you okay?” Ever whispers as students close in around us.