2. Addi

TWO

Ibarrel ahead with less finesse and care than moments earlier, shouldering past someone as I move under the archway, my steps faltering as my destination comes into view. Even among the hoards of people approaching, it still captures my attention, stealing my breath without any preemptive thought.

I wet my dry lips, failing to add any moisture as the new addition to the Floodborn Kingdom stands tall and proud. The narrow bridge connects the main city walls to a floating island. The thought of it sounds wondrous and magical, but the jagged roofs and endless turrets tell a different story.

Keeping to the left, I take a deep breath and trudge forward with my head bowed and gaze aimed at my feet as I try to remain as invisible as possible.

Adrenaline courses through my veins the closer I get. It's daunting as hell. This is everything I've been building up to. This is the moment everything begins to change. I've waited so long it doesn't even seem real.

The wind whips wildly around me as I dart over the bridge, the grip on my hood tightening. All it does is fuel the excitement coursing through me, hurrying my steps before I barge into the courtyard.

I find a small nook along the wall and tuck myself away as I take a moment to stare up at my future.

Heir Academy.

Gulping, I let those two words repeat in my mind as I absorb my new reality, manifesting everything that will follow. With every breath, I solidify the fact that I'm exactly where I'm supposed to be.

"Entrants, please make your way onto the grounds; proceedings are about to begin."

A buzz zings down my spine, encouraging me to put one foot in front of the other as I follow the other attendants. Guards stand between the pillars, keeping a watchful eye on the bodies, and I think I've managed to slip past unnoticed until a hand clasps around my upper arm, halting me in place.

"No hoods," he grunts, yanking mine down before I can even consider a response, and I glare up at him. His eyes narrow, his grip tightening around my arm, bringing me so close to the brink of responding rashly before someone else gains his attention.

"Gray, come and look at this."

He dismisses me without a second glance, shoving me through the passage before offering me his back.

My lips purse as I clench my fists at my sides, counting down from ten as I take deep breaths. Once my mood seems a little more under control, I run my fingers through my hair, tucking the loose curls behind my ear before turning to rejoin everyone.

I feel exposed without my hood up. I've never walked a step in the City of Harrows without it, and although I knew it was coming, I wasn't ready for the rawness of it. It's a safety blanket I've grown accustomed to; a fact that instantly irritates me and only confirms that I won't be wearing it any longer.

The space grows wide, filled with bodies, and I instantly acknowledge the groups. It's not purposeful, but we're drawn to our own kind. Always. I keep to the side of the large square enclosure, opting to stand in the spot where the sun beats down as I take everyone in.

The gathered attendants to the far right stand tall and proud. A level of righteousness seeps from them, exposing the natural superiority that oozes from them effortlessly, making my lip curl in distaste. They're draped in luxury, dressed in designer clothes, with flashy gadgets and an air of regalness.

Vampires.

I peer to their right and find myself a little stunned to see the group standing so close to them. A different vibe emanates from them altogether. Everyone's shoulders rub as they all stand closer than necessary, an air of familiarity and family pouring from them. They're the second largest group here, but instead of designer clothes and the latest tech clinging to their every limb, they're mostly in ripped jeans and open checkered shirts with tanks underneath. Males and females included. They laugh loudly, a bubble of excitement enveloping them.

Wolves.

Pressing my lips together, I move to the group standing in the center of the space, a quaint, almost solemn vibe coming from them. They're all-knowing, studious, and proper. Draped in cloaks similar to my own, they talk in quiet, hushed tones, always carrying some kind of book with them. It's almost cute and nerdy until they open their mouths to express how wrong you are and how right they are.

Mages.

My gaze travels to those in the far left area, their group smaller than the others, and although you get the sense they aren't as close as some of the other groups, there's still an air of serenity and adventure that bubbles around them. No one looks the same; no one acts the same. They're all individual and unique, and they own it.

Shifters.

Similar to the wolves, but completely different all at once. They're not packs, they're not a family, and they don't shift into wolves. They shift into whatever the fates decide they are.

Nerves bubble from the group near them, with a sense of wonder and panic twisting in the air. Ordinary. Mundane. Giftless.

Humans.

With gadgets tucked in their hands and a need to prove themselves drifting from them, they're desperate to belong, to fit in—as they rightfully should. It's just a shame that the actions they take don't mirror it. They should be the most frowned upon group, but they're not.

Which leaves the smallest group standing closest to the podium. The group that makes my heart sink. Everyone affords them a wide berth as the members shuffle nervously from foot to foot. It's the uncertainty that comes from them that confirms what they are without you having to look for the most obvious point. Pun intended.

Fae.

Once the leaders of the kingdom, now the remnants of a nightmare. Simply an afterthought of atrocities that brought the kingdom down and left ruin in its place.

"Which group are you?"

I startle at the interruption, glancing up at a man dressed in a perfectly pressed navy suit. The black framed glasses on his nose somehow make him seem approachable, but the tightness of his jaw and squint to his eyes tell a different story.

"Why?"

He narrows his eyes, irritated with having to waste more time on me than necessary and completely unimpressed with my inability to be immediately pliant and at his will. "Because you're standing alone, and the groups have been formed," he states, and I cock a brow.

"I was under the impression we are here as individuals, that what or who we are doesn't matter," I counter, making his eyes narrow further.

"Be as you will, but you may seek strength from those around you. Alone…you won't last long, I'm sure." He smiles, the display not reaching his eyes as they darken. I can read between the lines and understand what he's not saying.

He thinks I won't last two minutes alone. Maybe he's right, or maybe I am.

Time will tell.

Channeling my father's words, I put a wide smile on my face and nod. "Thank you for the advice."

I know I don't really have a choice in the matter. I've already heard the rumors that everyone will be housed according to their origins when we step inside the academy. There's no point delaying the inevitable, but what can I say? I'm stubborn and I'm not going to fall under someone else's thumb so easily.

Especially not a vampire's.

Turning away from the irritation spoiling my observations, I roll my shoulders back and cut through the crowd, slowing to a stop at the front of the podium. Along with my kind.

Fae.

The nerves and panic that drift around them threaten to seep into my bones, too, but I push it back, slowing my racing heart as I channel every ounce of strength, determination, and power I have. It doesn't help when I can feel people looking at me. Or is that the anxiety attempting to get the better of me?

Dammit.

"Are you with the right group?" a girl asks, and I turn to look at her with a frown. It's on the tip of my tongue to question whether she thinks anyone would actually choose to stand here if they didn't have to, but I manage to keep my mouth shut and simply nod instead. That doesn't seem to appease her, though. Her gaze shifts to my ears and back to my eyes. "It's just you don't…"

"Have pointy ears," I interject, giving her a pointed look. "I'm aware. Would you like to look closer to see the scars from where they were snipped?" I grunt, annoyed that I briefly reveal my feelings. The only effect that ever has is that someone obtains the upper hand over you, but to my surprise, it's pain that flickers in her gray eyes instead.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry." Her hand lifts to her mouth and I'm not sure if she's going to cry or not, but I can't deal with that.

No. Way.

"You didn't do it. So don't apologize." I try to offer her a smile, but I know it's weak, and there's no rectifying it. So I turn my attention to the people gathered on the podium, murmuring among themselves as we all wait. The alternative would be to reach for my ears and feel the smooth edges to the tops, along with the slightly raised scar that serves as a memory sharper than any other.

Everything happens for a reason. Everything is meant to fall into place. Everything is okay.

"I'm sorry. I'm an apologizer. I'll even apologize for apologizing," she continues to ramble, standing at my side. I nod, hoping that will be enough of a response for her to back off, but apparently, my usual resting bitch face vibes aren't in full effect today. "I'm Flora, by the way."

Clearing my throat, I peer at her out of the corner of my eye, taking a moment to actually take her in. Her vivid orange hair falls around her shoulders in loose waves. Her big gray eyes are filled with a sense of hope, but they're also tainted by the panic and worry that wars within them. She's about my height, an inch or two taller if I'm being completely honest with myself, and her frame is small. She's going to need to work on that while she's here; otherwise, it will be pointless.

My hands flex at my sides. That's not for me to worry about. Or is it? Is that not the entire end game of all of this? Taking a deep breath, I turn to face her properly.

"I'm Addi."

"Nice. Addi, as in…"

"Just Addi will do."

My throat clogs as it does every time someone takes the time to press me for details about myself, but thankfully, she doesn't push, turning to face the podium again.

My gut clenches as I listen to the fae around me, the worry thick in their voices as they try to decipher everyone's intentions. They probably need to be more focused on their own—another fact I may have to add to my to-do list. To prove myself as a fae among these people, I need to first prove it to my own kind. If it's the last thing I do, I will make a positive name for us among this madness.

We are our people, Addi girl. We will always stand strongest when we are together and united as one.

My father's words echo in my mind, guiding me as always, despite the fact that I have so many arguments I could throw back. As if our strength may have been stronger if we were united in this moment too. This is my first interaction, properly, with another fae, and it feels…weird. Maybe not weird, but it's not my norm, yet I'm supposed to act like it is.

"There you are. I was wondering what was going on." I glance at the guy approaching, but his gaze is on Flora, who blushes.

"It's not like there's really a sea of fae for you to lose me in," she retorts, the pink of her cheeks deepening, and he grins at her before turning to me.

"Arlo, nice to meet you." He offers his hand, a natural and calm smile on his face, effortlessly putting me at ease, which immediately sets me on edge. I don't trust anyone, and I'm not about to start with him.

"Addi."

He quirks a brow at me when I don't immediately take his hand, but after a beat, I relent, just as Flora plants her hand on his arm. "She's focused, give her some space."

It's my turn to raise my eyebrows at her, but she simply shrugs in response. I am focused. She's not wrong. But, am I also that obvious? It doesn't matter. As long as she didn't come up with any other assessments that may weaken me.

"Focused. Nice. I?—"

Whatever he's about to say is cut off by a siren ringing out around the huge space, drawing the murmurings to a halt. All eyes turn to the podium where a lady stands. Her white hair is pulled back into a messy braid, silver glasses are perched on the tip of her nose, and she's wearing a florescent pink blazer and skirt set with a white silk blouse underneath.

She looks over the crowd, her smile growing when she turns toward the vampires, confirming what she is before she moves toward the slim, silver microphone perched atop the podium.

"Welcome, everyone, to Heir Academy."