Chapter 10

CHAPTER 10

IZZY

I blink open my eyes to see my family, Bishop, and the wolves in a line, with their hands cuffed in front of them. Glancing down, I take in the plain white dress I'm always wearing in these damn dreams. Even though I know it's a dream, I'm powerless to do anything to change it.

Still, I try to yank my hands free of the magic-dampening cuffs. All I succeed in doing is wrenching my shoulders, the cold metal not budging an inch. Even though I'm currently magicless, the two burly guards grip my shoulders like I'm a flight risk. There's no way I'd run and leave everyone I care about behind.

"Isabel Magnolia Gallagher, the council hereby finds you guilty of every crime you were charged with. You are sentenced to execution," the smarmy voice booms from somewhere behind me. I can't turn around to see which councilman it is. "Your family and friends are sentenced to execution by magic as well. It is your fault they have to die. Such a shame the selfishness of one mage will lead to the extinction of two prestigious mage lines."

"No!" I scream as I buck and twist to speak face-to-face to the man doing the sentencing. The two guards prevent me from turning around. "Leave them out of it! They didn't do anything wrong." My begging and pleading never changes anything, but I have to try.

"Carry out the sentence for everyone but her. Let her watch the consequences of defying us," the disembodied voice orders.

One guard steps up to Bishop, the first person in the line. His blue eyes turn accusingly toward me. He doesn't have to say anything for me to understand he blames me. "Meeting you was the worst thing to ever happen to me," Bishop tells me. I flinch at his words, not because they're too harsh but because they're true. He deserved so much more than me.

Then the guard casts a spell. A sickly green light encircles Bishop's head. He can't breathe through the bubble, and he claws at his throat, trying to get air in. It doesn't work. After a few minutes, Bishop stops struggling. His limp body drops to the ground with a thud.

"No!" I wail, with tears running down my cheeks. My shoulders shake with sobs as I scream in devastation, "Bishop!" I fight the cruel hands holding me, wanting to go over to my best friend and the only person who really knows me. No matter how much I struggle, I can't get free.

Instead, I have to watch the guard kill everyone I love, one by one.

"I wish you were never born," my mom hisses at me before she's killed.

"You are our greatest regret," my dad tells me solemnly before being suffocated.

"Our family was better without you," Rhys informs me before he, too, asphyxiates.

"We never loved you," Aiden shouts before he's choked to death.

I scream and cry and beg and plead for all of their lives. It never does anything. By the time they finish with my family, I'm sobbing so hard, I can barely breathe. It feels like someone took a sledgehammer to my chest, and all my bones are shattered and poking my heart. I wish they'd just kill me already. Dying is better than living with a gaping, ragged wound where my heart is supposed to be.

The wolves are a new addition to this horror show. While I just met them a few days ago, they already feature in my recurring nightmare.

Great.

"I wish I never met you," Luca grits out.

"We deserved a better mate than you," Archer says without his signature smile.

"You weren't worth it," Cain spits, driving the final spike into my already shredded heart. The guard kills all three of them at once. By the time their bodies hit the ground, I'm numb. I don't feel anything anymore. My mind is too overwhelmed to process the all-consuming grief.

"I'm sorry," I gasp out to the row of dead bodies. Not that it'll do anything. Nothing I do will ever undo all the carnage I cause just by existing.

"Save your apologies. Your kind doesn't deserve to live. Nothing you say will make us spare you," the voice behind me booms. "Throw the girl on the pyre."

I don't try to fight the guards as they drag me to the burning funeral pyre. I don't try to stop them from throwing me on top of it. I don't try to escape the flames licking across my body, charring my clothes and skin. Instead, I welcome the oblivion of death.

"Miss Gallagher!" A nasally voice yanks me out of my nightmare.

My head jerks up off my desk at hearing my name, breaking me free of my dream. I look around, dazed and confused, having no idea where I am. It takes me a moment to realize I'm in my advanced magic theory class. I guess I fell asleep during the lecture. Subtly, I wipe my hands over my eyes to clean up any tears that leaked out from my dream.

"Am I boring you, Miss Gallagher?" Professor Moore sneers. He's a stout man with a round belly. His black hair is thinning, and his brown eyes remind me of a weasel. As a mage from a lower family, he especially enjoys tormenting me during his classes.

"Absolutely," I reply honestly. Advanced magic, my ass. I was doing spells more complex than this at ten years old. Plus, after being awake for nearly three days and just having a soul-crushing nightmare, I have no tolerance for his petty bullshit.

Professor Moore sputters, and his face turns red in anger. I don't think he expected me to answer honestly. Unfortunately for him, apologizing isn't my default setting. "Out of my classroom! I won't tolerate this behavior! Go to the dean!" Professor Moore screams at me.

"Yep," I reply, not even fighting it. Instead, I shove all of my stuff back in my backpack and get up. I don't bother to glance around the classroom to see the smug faces of my classmates. They love whenever I get in trouble. My suffering is these entitled assholes' preferred entertainment.

Don't they realize there's so much more going on in the world than petty mage politics? How can they spend all their time social climbing when so many people are suffering?

Sometimes, I want to scream at all of them. I want to shake them out of their safe little bubble and make them look at real problems. Everything my classmates care about—status, money, and power—doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things. Even the richest and most powerful people still die. Instead of using their resources for good, the people of Hawthorne Grove live their lives selfishly. They use their gifts for personal gain, never to help others.

It drives me crazy. I can't wait to never see this fucking town again. Once I graduate, I'm moving to some normal human city and never thinking about these horrible people again.

Shaking my head, I stalk out of the classroom, tuning out the laughter that follows me.

While I try to walk steadily, I stumble once I'm out of the room. The short nap did nothing to alleviate my exhaustion. I feel like I'm about to pass out, and the hallway spins like a gravity ride at an amusement park.

Hopefully I can keep it together enough to avoid puking on the dean. He wouldn't be happy about that. Dean Murphy already hates me enough as it is. I'm sure he would expel me if he could. The only thing stopping him is the sizable donation my family makes every year. If he kicks me out, HGU will lose their biggest donor.

While Dean Murphy can't expel me, he can make my life hell. He's a pro at making this school even worse than it is. I'm super excited to see what punishment I get today. Not.

"You don't look so good, kid," Aggie chimes in suddenly from beside me.

I stumble and crash into the wall at her appearing out of thin air. "Jesus fuck!" I hiss in surprise. "What the hell, Aggie! Where did you even come from?"

"Well, you see, when two mages love each other very much—" Aggie breaks off as I make a gagging sound at the thought of her parents getting it on. I very much don't need to picture two old people banging. She grins at my theatrics. "You pulled me to you. You're running on empty with how much magic you used this weekend."

"Don't I know it," I mutter as I rub my hands over my tired eyes. It doesn't help.

Sighing, I shuffle down the curving stone stairs of Gallagher Hall. Aggie floats silently next to me. We don't talk, in case someone is near enough to hear me.

The door to the courtyard is right next to the stairs, so I'm out in the bright sunlight in no time. Blinding light stings my gritty eyes and causes my head to throb painfully. Luckily, it's only a quick walk to the Byrne building, which houses all the administrative offices.

I heave open the heavy, dark-wood doors and trudge up to the third floor. The dean has his own floor in the building because, of course, he does. How could a pompous asshole be expected to share a floor with peasants? That would just be agony for him.

As I push open the jet-black doors to his personal office, I'm greeted by the sight of one of my two favorite people on campus.

"Isabel, lovely to see you!" Judith, the dean's assistant greets me. She's a tiny woman, and she has her gray hair pulled back into a perfect bun. Her blue eyes always twinkle with joy behind her glasses. Today, she wears a deep purple dress with a lacy black cardigan.

Judith hops out of her chair and walks to me with surprising speed for an old woman. It takes her no time at all to move from her antique walnut desk and across the thick navy carpet to where I'm standing. She wraps her thin arms around me, enfolding me in a grandmotherly hug. I hug her back, needing some comfort after the dream I just had.

"What are you doing here, dear?" Judith asks me kindly. She knows I never venture to the dean's office willingly.

"I got in trouble for falling asleep in class," I tell her with a wince. Judith is one of two people I respect here, so I want her to think positively of me. I don't want her to think I'm a lazy bum like the rest of the school does.

"Have you not been sleeping well, dear?" she asks, not judging me for falling asleep in class. My shoulders slump in relief, and I shake my head no. "I can tell. Let me talk to the dean for you. You're not in any shape to deal with that nasty man. What's the easiest punishment for you right now?"

I snort at her calling her boss a nasty man. She's not wrong. Dean Murphy is a pathetic excuse of a mage. Humming, I try to think of what I can do in my half-dead state right now.

"Probably running laps for Levi. Other than you, he's the only one here who doesn't hate my guts." Levi doesn't allow any of the usual bullying in his class. That's why I'm taking another one of his classes this semester. It doesn't hurt to learn more self-defense techniques, either.

"They're just jealous. I'll go talk to the dean. Have a seat, dear. You look like a feather could knock you over." Judith points out the row of black velvet chairs across from her desk. As I head over to the chairs, Judith pulls open the gold door to the dean's office and slips inside.

I sink onto the cushy seat and lean my head back against the royal blue paisley wallpaper. My eyes slip closed as I wait for her.