me weeks!”
“Then you’d better start reading.”
He couldn’t be serious, but by the way Rage was grinning, he totally was.
Master Carn turned back to Rage, and they resumed their lesson, talking about balancing heat and light.
Great!
I spent the next three hours reading an ancient lame history of fire wielders and all they could do. Occasionally, I stole glances at Rage making cool fireballs in his palms.
So cool. Ever since I was a little girl, I’d longed to do what my father could do. Boil water with a thought, toss a fireball into the lake on the Fourth of July, boil a rogue wolf’s blood and kill him instantly. Fire magic was arguably the strongest element, and I was sitting here, reading a book. My father’s magic had trickled to me as a member of his pack, but other than making my index finger a lighter, I couldn’t do much. And apparently, Master Carn wanted it to stay that way.
When the bell rang for lunch, I was nearly catatonic from boredom.
“Don’t you need to go, Nai?” Rage asked, tapping the schedule that I’d set at the edge of my desk, one he’d obviously been nosy enough to read.
I blinked and—Crap! I was serving lunch.
Without a word, I bolted toward the cafeteria that Kaja had pointed out on our way to campus. Darting through the courtyard to the right, I opened the large double-doors and was greeted with a legit movie-style high school cafeteria—Formica tables and everything.
“Umm, hello?” I called out, scanning the large and—thankfully—still-unoccupied room.
Crossing the space, I stepped behind the counter of the lunch line. Kids piled in behind me, but no one was here.
Please don’t tell me I have to do this on my own!
“I’m guessing you’re Nai,” snapped a woman. Her tone held zero tolerance.
I froze, spinning on my heels, and faced a terrifying woman.
Holy frickin’ mage!
Her black hair was neatly plaited all the way to her waist, and the symbol for dark magic hung from a necklace at her throat. Tattoos covered her skin, crawling and moving underneath as if vying for territory, with the exception of her face, which was unblemished. She looked maybe twenty-five, but she might be four times that.
Why would the school let a dark mage work here?
“Yes, ma’am,” I muttered.
She noticed my gaze at her throat and rolled her eyes. “I owe a lifetime of servitude to the king for turning one of his wolves into a goat. Are we done with that?”
My eyes snapped back up to hers, and I nodded. “Yep. Totally. That’s cool. We’re cool.”
She rolled her eyes. “I’m Kalama. Your cousin is in the back. You’ll dish out front while I ring.”
She tossed me an apron, hairnet, and plastic gloves.
Hairnet.
Hairnet.
Hairnet.
I couldn’t look away from the small piece of social suicide I held in my hand.
“Put it on, princess. We’ve got hungry wolves to feed!”
Oh mage.
Why me? I quickly tied the apron and—gulp—slid the hairnet over my high ponytail. Then, I slipped on the plastic gloves.
“Come on, honey, we don’t have all day,” a catty female called out as I made my way behind the counter.
My gaze flicked up to the young wolf shifter. The bitchy blond chick glared down her nose at me. She was Daybreak Clan. Shocker. I recognized her from the ceremony last night. Mallory, the Barbie girl. Clearly an evil Barbie.
Daybreak thought they were superior to everyone, including Midnight. My father said they had a history of always talking about making a bid for the crown, but their alpha changed too often to make definitive plans. Superiority complexes seemed to run in their pack. According to my father, their heirs were cutthroat and constantly fighting for dominance.
I swallowed my pride and picked up a pair of tongs.
I looked down at the options. “Pizza or burger?”
“Burger, no bun, with avocado on the side.” She tapped her foot, and I looked up to see over a dozen heirs behind her. Kaja waved to me. And just behind her were the Midnight brothers. Great. Freaking hairnet.
I yanked off the bun and threw a meat patty on the plate. “We’re out of avocado,” I told her, handing her the plate.
“You didn’t even look!” she hissed.
“Come on, Mallory,” a girl who looked a lot like a Barbie too, only older and with short-cropped bangs, called to her. Sisters or cousins?
Mallory, AKA Evil Barbie, flipped her ponytail at me and stormed off with her relative … who was, apparently, not eating today.
I filled plate after plate, keeping my attention on the food