Witch Born - LJ Swallow Page 0,4

and looks down his nose. "But some students need reminding to keep their hands off shifter goods."

"Piss off," she retorts. "I'm nobody's goods."

I back against the opposite wall, hoping if I do, this removes me from whatever conversation they're having.

"I heard Dorian kicking off before," she says. "What happened, Zeke?"

He shrugs. "Dorian badmouthed me in art class. The dickhead needs to keep out of my business."

"Art class?" I blurt.

Zeke turns his head. "Haven't you had your orientation meeting yet, new girl?"

"She arrived too late," replies Oriana.

Why is everybody speaking for me since I arrived?

"Not too late for Dorian's orientation," says the dark-haired guy with a chuckle. "She's a witch, right?"

The prickle on my neck intensifies at the undertone to his words. What does Dorian do to witches?

"If Dorian caused trouble, he's locked in his room tonight," retorts Oriana. "If you were involved, I'd hide before someone locks you up for the night too."

Zeke barks out a laugh. "I don't hide from anybody."

"Aren't you going to introduce us?" interrupts Zeke's friend.

My chest tightens. I'd hoped they'd overlooked me.

"Eloise. This is Zeke.” She points at the striped guy. “And Kai." Oriana nudges me in the side as I stare at the two shifters.

"Eloise." Zeke speaks my name slowly as if caressing the word. "I look forward to discovering everything about you."

Oriana mutters something then looks at me. "Let's go."

I gratefully move away from the pair, and as I pass an open doorway, I spot a group of kids lounging on sofas with torn cushions or sitting on top of tables chatting.

Thankfully, nobody notices me.

Against my better judgement, Zeke snatched my attention. I'm not a fan of shifters, and my parents were racist against them, but there's no denying many are stunning.

"So, that's Zeke," says Oriana. "Shifter top dog. I mean, not literally since he's a tiger shifter, but he's allowed to keep the shifters under control."

"Allowed?"

"By Dorian," she replies as if I'm stupid. "There're two worlds here. One run by guards, one run by him."

We turn a corner and head along another hallway in need of painting, although someone already adorned the flaking walls with a mural featuring a starry night scene. If this picture was designed to brighten the place, the attempt failed —graffitied names are scrawled throughout the painting.

Oriana pulls a set of keys from her pocket.

"I don't have a key yet. How will I get in and out?"

Oriana unlocks the door. "Francesca will give you one tomorrow. You're lucky— a year ago we had no way to lock ourselves in. Since she arrived a few months back, things have softened a little. Angus is old school and doesn’t like sharing his position of academy head with Francesca. Don't upset him. He’s ex-military and the Confederacy's right-hand man; Francesca has a holistic approach to rehabilitation that he hates."

"Art class?"

"Amongst other things. Just treat her classes as a chance to snooze." She kicks open the door. "They try to hide their dislike for each other, but neither are good actors."

The room we walk into is as unappealing as the rest of the academy —bare walls and a window covered by a thin black curtain. The metal-framed beds are pushed up against a wall either side with a small space in between.

I can say goodbye to privacy.

One bed is stripped of linen but has a pillow and blankets folded at one end. The springs creak as I sit on the mattress and take in the depressing surrounding.

"Bathrooms are along the hallways. Shared." I widen my eyes, and she laughs. "Don't worry; they're not unisex. No guys in the girls' showers. Well, usually."

My stomach turns over for the umpteenth time. Communal showers. Tiny rooms with bars on the windows and beds close enough we're almost sleeping together.

"Is everybody's room like this?" I ask.

"Yeah. Pretty much. Some of the bigger shifters get the attic rooms and Dorian's on his own."

"Lucky," I mutter.

"Lucky for the people who are saved from rooming with him, yes." She chuckles. "Sharing with Dorian is a threatened punishment as great as solitary confinement. Greater."

"I can imagine. He has a reputation."

"Oh, yeah." She snorts. "King of the halls. A lot of kids here are dangerous, but he's immoral with it. Doesn't give a shit about anybody or anything."

I could add that I know more about Dorian, but can I trust Oriana? The disgust on her face shows she doesn't like him, but I don't want my words passed on to anybody. I need to keep my head down and mouth shut.

"Don't