Page 145 of Bedeviled

“It’s not,” she insists, reading my expression. “But the bigger question is, will you be okay, Selene? I mean, once Henbane is closed and you don’t have the school’s protection? Will you be protected enough against this woman?”

“I’ll be fine,” I say with confidence I don’t feel.

Sybil gives me a long look.

“If I’m not, I will send you my crystal dick collection.”

“That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny.”

Sybil huffs, then stares out my window. “The pack wouldn’t let me come back before today.” She looks resentful.

I can only imagine how much the lycanthropes’ hierarchical rules must grate on Sybil. I know they’d drive me nuts.

“In this case, it’s probably for the best,” I say.

My best friend gives me a look like I’m a traitor, and I hold up my hands. “You’re right. Absolutely despicable that they’d think to keep you away from this delightful and not at all traumatizing place.”

She’s still giving me a look.

“If it makes you feel any better, this is the first time I’ve been back since Henbane announced it was closing.”

“It’s not the same, and you know it.”

I give her a sad smile just as there’s a knock on the door.

Sawyer, Sybil’s mate, peeks his head in. Merlin, Sybil’s owl, is perched on his shoulder.

“Hey,” he says to us. His eyes find my friend’s and soften. “We finished loading your things. Do you want to look over your room one last time?”

Sybil pushes herself up, and Merlin flies from Sawyer’s shoulder to hers. “Sure.” She glances over at me. “Want to tag along?”

And get more time with my best friend? “Obviously, wench.”

She cackles and reaches for my hand, and I let her drag me out, Nero begrudgingly following at my heels.

“Oh, Selene,” Sawyer says. He holds up an envelope between two of his fingers. “This was in front of your door.”

I raise my brows. “Thanks,” I say, taking it from him. It smells like rosemary and lavender, and inked onto the front of it is Henbane Coven Est. 1838, and beneath that is the school’s insignia of a cauldron bursting with flowers and two crossed brooms.

I hesitate. “You know what? You guys go on ahead of me. I’m just going to open this.”

“M’kay,” Sybil says, already distracted by her boyfriend-mate-fiancé-whatever-in-the-seven-devils he is. She’s already hugging his arm and nuzzling him as the two head down the hall, Merlin still perched on her shoulder.

Once it’s just me and Nero, I rip the envelope open and pull out the card inside. Written in loopy, iridescent handwriting is a note.

You’ve been summoned to the private chambers of the high priestess of Henbane Coven tomorrow at 2:00 p.m.

My brows knit as I read it over. I’m being summoned? And tomorrow of all days? By then, Henbane will be closed, the wrought-iron front gate locked and barred.

I tuck the letter into my pocket and mull over the request. There are easily a dozen things the school’s high priestess could be summoning me for, and all of them make my stomach churn.

I remember then the heavy weight in my pocket. I reach into it and pull out the large iron key I was given when I first came here. It’s still just as ridiculous a sight as when I first received it, but I can’t lie, I’m more than a little fond of the thing. I cross the room and softly set it on my desk. My heart lurches knowing I might not ever be back in this room.

Henbane was all I ever wanted for years. It was my one true goal, one that I relentlessly pursued. I expected getting in to be the hardest part. I hadn’t expected that it was merely the beginning of my troubles.

And yet, even with all the horror, I still want more time, more memories. I want more dinners in my dining hall. I want more midnight revelries, I want more flights on brooms and classroom lectures. I want more assignments that I can work on in the spell kitchen, and hell, I want an excuse to use the Lunar Observatory.