says and sits on the bed beside me.
Surprised by her moving closer than usual, I shift away slightly. I’ve already had one person in my space today, and I’m cautious.
I smile weakly and nod.
“Can I offer some advice? Don’t take on Dorian Blackwood.”
“He doesn't scare me.”
“He should.” She crosses her slender legs. “Dorian may not hurt you himself, but he has others who he can persuade to on his behalf.”
“You saw what happened.” I flash her a look. “My magic was strong enough to take him on. Nobody else can beat me.”
“Isn’t that the problem?” says Oriana quietly. “Your magic worked in here. If you keep doing this, you’ll add years to your time here, believe me.”
Oriana looks down at her hands and her blue hair drops across her face. “I was dumb enough to use my residual magic and that cost me.”
“How?”
She shrugs. “Extra three years added for illegal behaviour. Time in solitary.”
Shit. Is that what I’m facing?
“All good, because I think I exhausted any magic I had on him.”
“What’s with you and Dorian? Something must make you stupid enough to take him on.”
I take a deep breath. What do I say? “Dorian killed my uncle.”
She straightens “What?”
“Three years ago. He was a friend of Dorian’s adoptive vampire family and would visit them to check up on Dorian, on behalf of the Blackwoods. One day my uncle never returned from one of the visits.”
“And you’re sure Dorian killed him?”
I swallow. “His parents told the Blackwoods that Dorian killed my uncle as a lesson to the witches turning against them. That was the end of their cooperation.”
“Whoa.” Oriana rubs her head. “I heard the Blackwoods no longer work with vampires and knew somebody died, but why kill a Thornbrook?”
I shrug. “He knew too much, probably. I think he was involved in creating Dorian, and the Romanovs want that knowledge gone. Their experiment backfired because this hybrid is stronger than they anticipated.”
“And you’re sure Dorian murdered him?”
“I confronted him outside and he didn’t deny the murder.”
Oriana moves to sit on the bed opposite me, leaning forward with her hands on her knees. “A lot of people in this place have grudges against other students. This sucks, but Dorian isn’t worth threatening your future over.”
“You don’t understand. He caused my family pain. I don’t want him to get away with this.” More precisely, he caused me pain. My Uncle Lawrence was kinder to me than my parents ever were, and I felt his loss as strongly—perhaps stronger—than a parent’s death.
“You want revenge? I get that, but you also need to think rather than follow your emotions.” I bow my head. “If you want to survive in here, you need to be strategic. All you did earlier is show people you’re weak.”
“I am not weak!” I retort.
“You’ve not only exposed your weakness to Dorian but to others. You’ve also used magic. Both things were damn stupid, Eloise.” She taps the side of her head. “Think, don’t react. Keep control. Watch. Listen. Then choose revenge, if that’s what you want.”
I rub my tired eyes. My arms shake thanks to the weakness in my muscles, where the magic sucked my energy.
“But revenge isn’t smart. Wait until you’re out of here,” she continues.
“For revenge on Dorian? He’ll never get out of Ravenhold.”
She snorts in amusement. “He will. The guy is biding his time, but he’ll escape. Don’t you understand that Dorian is probably the most powerful supernatural creature in this world?”
I would roll my eyes at her exaggeration, but I’ve heard many times that her words are correct. “Then how is he kept here?”
She scratches the scarred cheek. “I said most powerful, not infallible. Everybody has a weakness. He’s constrained somehow.”
But is he? Dorian admitted he could use magic, that he’s somehow rejecting the control over him. I’ve felt that power—but only a small amount.
Oriana stands and sighs down at me. “Consider this. Dorian’s rule over the academy brings stability. He’s a bullying arsehole, but he squashes down anybody who interferes with his carefully kept order.”
I stare in horror. “Are you suggesting Dorian’s self-appointed position is a good thing?”
She points at her face. “Ask someone about the riots from two years ago. How the infighting killed people and nobody who runs this place gave a shit.”
“What happened?”
Her eyes harden. “Ask around. I was caught in a fire in the upstairs part of the west wing. Not everybody survived, including those who instigated it. Zeke stepped up to control the academy shortly after. You’ll discover that he’s