only thing that can save me from the pain—
I plunge into black.
Epilogue
Roman
I pace restlessly outside Hardwick’s office, my jaw clenching rhythmically.
Patience and self-control are two things I had to learn at a very young age, and the dark memories of my childhood are all it takes to remind me why those qualities are so important. Why I swore to myself I would never let my life be governed by wild emotions.
But today, for the first time in years, I can feel my control slipping.
My patience is hanging on by a thread.
At last, Hardwick opens the door. His gaze falls on me, and he sighs. “All right, Roman, come in. Thank you for waiting.”
I stride in, trying to force my body to relax. My hands have been clenched into fists for so long that they feel painfully stiff as I open them, stretching my fingers.
Elliot nearly died two days ago.
She nearly died, and the High Circuit’s handling of the aftermath has been laughably pathetic. They issued a carefully neutral statement condemning the violence that broke out at the end of the Trials and urging all magic users to embrace and respect one another. No one else was hurt as badly as Elliot, but there were a large number of minor injuries, and the quad was nearly destroyed.
Does our government truly think they can smooth this over with a bland PR campaign, and it will all be fine? Elliot was targeted by Johnson because of her power. Because her performance in the Trials challenged everything he knew, and his small mind couldn’t take it. Is that how we treat Unpredictables—is that how we treat women?
I’ve been teaching at Griffin Academy for five years, and Hardwick has never once seen me lose my temper. But I could punch my fist through the wall right now, and I’m sure he can sense it. I’m just glad he seems to think my anger is all about the mishandling of the Trials and the prejudice from the outside magical community.
Not about the fact that I’m falling in love with one of my students.
It’s the one thing I envy Dmitri and the others for. I’ve seen the connection Elliot has with each of them, and I’m not threatened by it or angry about it. The light inside her is too bright to be selfishly hoarded by one man, and whether she sees it in herself or not, she’s more loving and passionate than anyone I’ve ever met. I saw it in her that first night at the bar; even then, I knew she was someone special.
She is worth sharing. I told her that, and I meant it. And I truly like the other men in her life, Dmitri especially. He’s only two years younger than I am, and we get along well. There’s something inside of us that’s similar, I think.
But they got to go to her when she fell. I couldn’t, and it fucking wrecked me.
I had to hold back, even when every instinct in my body screamed for me to run to her, to cradle her in my arms. I’m just her professor in the eyes of the world. And that’s how it has to stay, for now at least.
Truth be told… I shouldn’t be falling for Elliot.
I don’t feel anything but friendship for Josephine anymore; I made my feelings very clear to her after the Inter-academy Ball, when it seemed like she was interested in rekindling our relationship. But when I did end things between us, it wasn’t because I’d fallen out of love with her. That was part of it, yes. But it was also partially to protect her.
There are demons in my past—both literal and metaphorical—that I’m beginning to think will always haunt me. And when my past comes rearing its ugly head… I don’t want to let someone I care about end up in the middle of that.
But knowing I shouldn’t love Reckless doesn’t change how I feel about her. And it doesn’t change the frustration of watching someone I care about fall and not being able to go to her.
At least the others take good care of her. Cam got to her first using his teleportation power and scooped her up almost immediately. Dmitri, despite being unassisted by magic, was by her side only a second later. And Asher, usually the most cool-headed and peaceful of any of us, looked about ready to murder Johnson.
That’s why Hardwick called me into his office today, actually.
Something about Johnson.
“What is it?” I ask