22. Adrianna

ADRIANNA

Imarch up the stairs of the fae building with a small sense of relief clinging to me. Flora and Arlo are a step behind me, but they leave me to my thoughts as they murmur among themselves. I don't know how, but I've made it to the end of the day with no further issues. Voicing it out loud is off limits, though. It would only jinx my chances of the evening going in the same direction.

That's just how my luck works at the minute it seems, and I'm not about to put the odds against me any more than they already are.

My mind lingers on the dance class this morning. As much as I don't want to admit it, it's been the highlight of my day. Kryll seemed… off. I don't know if that's exactly the right word to describe him, but it's the best I've got right now. There seems to be something going on with him, but I don't know him well enough to make that full assessment.

Brody, on the other hand, is back to full form. Flirty winks, biting at his bottom lip as he stares at me, mingling with the occasional brush of his hand against my thigh or arm has me strung tighter than I care to admit.

"Is that a rose?" Flora asks, pulling me from my thoughts as we reach our floor. Looking down the hall to where she's pointing, there's a stunning red rose resting against my door.

"Another one," I murmur, the sight of it warming my chest, but I quickly try to rid myself of the sensation.

"Another?" Flora asks, eyebrows raised in question.

"I've had a few."

"A few?"

"Is there a parrot in here?" Arlo blurts, leaning against Flora's door with a grin on his face.

With a pointed look, she whacks him in the chest.

"Shush you."

He holds his hands up in surrender, but the amusement doesn't leave his features.

Peering back at the rose, I sigh.

"I really need to find a real vase for them."

"Maybe they have one down at the dining hall," Flora offers, and I hum in agreement.

"Maybe. I was kind of hoping to get some sand and…" My words trail off as my lips purse.

"You want to make one?" Flora asks, and I nod.

"But maybe something from the dining hall will do." I smile at her, mind made up as I move toward my room.

As I reach for the rose, the thornless stem in my grasp, she speaks. "I think the mages have sand."

Looking back at them, I find Arlo nodding along with her.

"They do."

"What would they have sand for?" I ask, confused, as I mindlessly run my fingertip over the petals.

"For their magic. Sand is a widely used item for chants and potions," Arlo answers with a shrug.

"Oh, that makes sense, I guess." How had I not thought of that?

"You could ask a mage," Flora offers, a smile starting to form on her face.

"What mage is going to willingly hand me sand? Me, the certified villain among us all," I grumble, aware I'm the bad guy to most people on campus.

"I know of one," she states, eyebrows rising as her smile continues to spread.

Brody.

That's who she's referring to.

"Maybe," I breathe, avoiding her gaze.

"There's no maybe about it," she pushes, and I shake my head.

"The kitchen feels safer." My eyes latch onto hers to find a solid pointed look in place.

"But it won't make your magic happy."

Fuck. She's right there.

"It won't." The truth slips from my lips, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed, but that's not how she reacts to them. Frowning, I point a finger at her. "Are you saying that because you can see inside my head or because you understand the feeling?" My gut tells me I already know the answer, but I'm programmed to clarify.

"I understand the feeling," she answers, her smile softening. "With my mind magic, the hardest thing I've had to learn is how to scratch the itch even when it's not possible."

"It's weird when you say that," Arlo muses, folding his arms over his chest as he gets comfortable against the door.

"Why?"

"The thought of scratching your itch with mind magic makes me think of you actually scratching your brain."

I shudder at the thought, and now that he's said it, I'm never going to unsee it.

"Thanks, Arlo," I grumble, making Flora snicker.

"It's easier for you," she states, pointing at Arlo. "You're a water fae. If your magic flares to life inside of you, desperate to escape, you can connect with the water and ease the sensation. Whereas dealing with mind magic isn't as simple as that. Most people aren't too happy about me using my magic on them. Especially not to alleviate the fizzle of magic consuming me."

That makes sense. I haven't really considered it like that before. Since I have access to all the magic blessed upon the fae, I can exert it in any way and the fizzle she's talking about dissolves. Mainly because the royal blood that runs through my body is a stronger power than others, so if we use that magic, it generally eases everything. My chest tightens at the reminder that I can't access my mind magic at all right now, but I opt to answer as though that's not the case.

"That's true. I don't have the same struggles with mind magic as my sister does."

"Is it true? That royal fae have a stronger and weaker ability among them all?"

I nod. "Yes," I confirm, acutely aware of the fact that I'm talking about my sister, and revealing her strength, but I can't seem to stop. "Her strength is unreal. Actually, when she's struggling to ‘scratch the itch', as you put it, she has an orb. I'll find out how we can get our hands on one, but it's really good for her when she feels like she can't expel her magic," I rattle off, a warmth growing in my chest with the fact that I can be of use.

"That would be amazing, thanks, Addi."

"No problem. Now, I better take care of this rose," I mutter, looking down at the crimson petals. I need to go before I continue talking about things that I shouldn't.

Smiling, I step into my room and let the door click shut behind me. The second I do, my chest swirls, irritation zapping through my veins. The possibility of sand has my fire magic ablaze.

Pressing my lips together, I lean back against the door and peer at the roses I'm continuing to acquire.

I guess it wouldn't be too bad if I paid a visit to the mage building.