Witch Born - LJ Swallow Page 0,39

kept none in the house. I do have some spirit affinity and could've used them. Did my family deliberately keep me away from crystals?

"What's that?" I whisper to Oriana.

"Starborn stone. Supposed to charge the rosella stone we're holding with more soothing vibes." She coughs a laugh.

"And does it?"

She looks at me the way she often does—as if I asked a dumb question. "No. Hippy bullshit."

I'm increasingly confused why the academy puts us through pointless lessons. Or do they help some kids? I look back over at the two witch girls and vampire boy beside Francesca, deep in meditation, not snoozing or staring at the ceiling like most.

Dorian tosses his crystal from hand to hand, eyes closed. He isn't seriously taking part? A few seconds later, he opens an eye to check Francesca is deep in meditation. Dorian watches her for a few moments, then stands and walks from the room.

I gape. "Can he do that?"

"He'll find an excuse why he left," says Oriana. She nods at the vampire kid in the corner, who's broken his meditation and looks around as if he can't remember where he is. "Looks like he's not the only one. Declan is about to leave too."

Declan struggles to his feet and drops the stone as he does. His befuddled look doesn't leave him as he stumbles after Dorian.

"You okay, dude?" asks Zeke with curiosity and not concern.

Francesca's eyes remain closed as the guy walks from the room, with his eyes glazed and breath short.

"Is Declan having a panic attack?" asks Oriana with a soft laugh. "I don't think he gets how meditation works."

As the door closes, Francesca finally opens her eyes and looks as dazed as the guy who walked out the room.

"What's happening?" she asks then peers at the empty bean bags. "Where're Dorian and Declan?"

"They left," says Zeke. "That's against the rules, isn't it? Black mark against their names for the week."

Francesca purses her lips. "Unless there was a reason. Sometimes we find a part of ourselves that's hard to face when we meditate deeply."

A shifter beside me snickers and the guy beside him mutters, "For fuck's sake, this woman is crazy."

"I hope nobody else felt any ill effects," she says with a smile as serene as her ocean sounds, and she focuses the question on a fidgeting Samuel.

Did she spend too much of her life as a selkie and can't see other races’ responses as clearly? If I were her, I'd give up attempting to instil her thoughts and theories into us. But Oriana does have a point—this beats punitive classes.

Francesca examines a silver watch on her slender wrist.

"I suppose we could finish up early today. Perhaps some extra time for lunch." She says the words as if she's granting us early release from the academy.

But the students don't complain.

Everybody drops their meditation stones into the blue velvet pouch Francesca holds open, the selkie telling everybody to have a blessed day as they do.

I give a sweet smile, before turning to leave. What happened to Declan?

Nobody wastes time in walking out, and they amble noisily in the direction of the dinner hall.

In the opposite direction, Ethan and Dorian stand together. I pause and watch as Ethan rests a shoulder against the wall, his arms crossed, with Dorian pulled straight, aggressively close to an unblinking Ethan.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I move closer.

"I'm not an idiot, Ethan. I can see what you're doing." Ethan doesn't speak as Dorian’s rant continues. "I saw you leave with Eloise last night, arsehole. You’re plotting against me." He taps the side of his head with a long finger. "You know what she's capable of, don't you? Did you charm the truth out of her? Finally found yourself an ally to take me on?"

Ethan remains unmoved and I bite my lip, impressed by his stoic behaviour. I don't have the patience to stand somebody talking to me like that.

"Right?" Dorian asks him. "Right?" He shoves Ethan in the chest as he repeats his question, but Ethan doesn't move an inch.

I approach quietly and Ethan's eyes flick at me then back to Dorian.

“My powers are returning and when I’m full strength, you're first on my hit list," growls Dorian.

Finally, Ethan responds, but with a rumbling laugh. Dorian's stance stiffens further. "Try me," Ethan says in his gruff brogue.

"Believe me, I will." He pauses and glances over his shoulder. "I thought I could sense you, witch. What do you want? Come to join him for more plotting?”

“No,” I retort.