LOGIN“You’re actually going.”
Priya said it like an accusation, arms crossed, blocking my apartment doorway like she could physically stop me from leaving. “I have to go. It’s not optional. It’s the only way out of four flights of stairs and a landlord who thinks ‘broken heat’ is a personality trait.” “It’s a school for monsters, Mia.” “They prefer ‘races.’ I read a pamphlet.” She didn’t laugh. I’d never seen Priya not laugh at something, not once in four years, and it made my stomach twist worse than the letter had. “What if something happens to you up there?” “Then I guess you get my apartment. Rent’s due on the fifth.” “I hate you.” She hugged me anyway, hard enough to hurt my still-bruised elbow. “Text me. Every day. I don’t care if it’s just one word.” “Every day,” I promised, and meant it, and knew even as I said it that I probably wouldn’t manage it. The train to the Academy left from a platform I’d never noticed before, tucked behind the regular station like the city was embarrassed of it. No ticket booth. Just a set of stone steps going down instead of up, which should’ve told me something. I wasn’t the only human on the train. I counted four others, all younger than me, all wearing the same expression. Somewhere between excited and about to throw up. “First time?” the boy across from me asked. He had a duffel bag with a peeling luggage tag and hands that wouldn’t stop moving. “Yeah.” “Me too. My cousin says the entrance exam nearly killed him and he’s part troll.” “Comforting.” “I didn’t even take the physical trial,” he said, lowering his voice like it was a secret. “Got a waiver. No idea why.” I went very still. “Me too,” I said. We looked at each other for a second too long. Neither of us said anything else about it, but I filed it away. I wasn’t the only anomaly on this train, which meant maybe I wasn’t as special as that letter made it sound. Or maybe it meant something worse. I didn’t know yet which one to be scared of. The train didn’t stop. It climbed. I felt it happen before I saw it, the angle of the floor tilting, my stomach dropping the way it does on the first hill of a rollercoaster. Outside the window, the city fell away, buildings shrinking to the size of teeth, and then there was nothing but cloud, thick and gray and close enough to touch. “Whoa,” the boy across from me whispered. I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. My hands had found the edge of my seat and gripped it hard enough to hurt. Then the clouds broke. The Academy didn’t sit on a mountain. It was the mountain, or what used to be one, a jagged slice of rock hanging in open sky with no visible support, towers spiraling up from it like something had grown there instead of been built. Waterfalls poured off the edges of it and disappeared into cloud before they ever hit ground. Bridges of pale stone connected floating gardens to floating courtyards to a central hall with a roof made of glass that caught the light and threw it back gold. It looked like something that shouldn’t exist. It looked like it had been built by people who didn’t believe in limits. “That’s insane,” the boy said. “Yeah.” “You scared?” I thought about lying. Didn’t see the point. “Terrified.” The train let us off on a platform carved into the mountain itself, and the second my feet hit stone, I understood something the pamphlet hadn’t bothered to mention. Everyone else already knew each other. Kids in expensive coats greeted each other with names and titles, clan crests stitched into their collars, a boy with actual small horns laughing with a girl whose eyes were solid gold, no pupil at all. Someone’s luggage floated behind them without anyone touching it. A group near the stairs turned into wolves and back into people just to settle an argument about who walked faster, and nobody so much as blinked. I stood there in my one good jacket, holding a duffel bag I’d packed in twenty minutes, and felt about as out of place as a human could feel. “Move it,” someone said behind me, and I turned in time to get shoved sideways by a guy who didn’t so much as glance back to see who he’d hit. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. Moving like he owned the platform and everyone standing on it. “Excuse you,” I said. He stopped. Turned around slow, like he wanted me to see him deciding whether I was worth the effort of a response. Sharp jaw, golden eyes that weren’t human and weren’t trying to hide it, a look on his face like he’d just found something unpleasant stuck to his shoe. “You’re the human,” he said. Not a question. “I have a name.” “Don’t care.” His eyes dragged over me, unimpressed, and something in my chest went hot and furious in a way that had nothing to do with fear. “Waived the physical trial. Didn’t earn your spot. Everyone already knows.” “Good. Saves me the introduction.” That got a reaction, at least. His eyes narrowed, and his jaw tightening like he wasn’t used to people talking back. “This isn’t a place for people who don’t belong,” he said. “You’ll figure that out fast.” He walked off before I could answer, disappearing into the crowd of students who all seemed to know exactly who he was, several of them stepping aside without being asked. “Who was that?” I asked the boy from the train, who’d gone pale watching the whole thing. “Ronan Kade,” he said, like the name should mean something. “Werewolf clan heir. Top of the first years.” Great. I hadn’t even made it through the gates yet, and I already had an enemy.Sandra was waiting on my bed when I got back to the room, sitting cross-legged with a mug of something that steamed purple, and she took one look at my face before I’d even shut the door.“Okay,” she said. “Tell me everything, and don’t skip the part where Ronan Kade apparently carried you across a battlefield.”“He didn’t carry me anywhere.”“That’s not what I heard. Three different people already told me three different versions, and in one of them you punched the chimera.”“I threw a rock at it.”“See, that’s so much less impressive than the story that’s currently going around campus, and I need you to understand that as your roommate, it’s my sacred duty to make sure the better version survives.” She patted the space beside her. “Sit. Talk. Tell me what happened.”I sat.I told her most of it. The chimera, Ronan getting hurt, throwing the rock, but left out the part that mattered most, the crack in the stone that hadn’t come from anything either of us did. I told myself I wasn’t l
The thing that fell out of the sky hit the courtyard fountain and turned it to steam.I hit the ground on instinct, arms over my head, and felt the heat roll over me in a wave that smelled like scorched stone. When I looked up, the water was gone, just a smoking crater where the fountain used to be, and something was uncurling itself out of the wreckage.It looked like it had been built out of leftover parts of other monsters. Wings too large for its body, scales the color of old rust, a mouth full of teeth that didn’t line up right, like it had grown them twice and never chosen between the sets.“Chimera,” Ronan said, already moving, already between me and it without seeming to decide to be. “Young one. Doesn’t happen on campus grounds, not during orientation.”“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”“No.”The thing shrieked, a sound that hurt to hear, and lunged for the nearest cluster of students still frozen by the dining hall doors.Ronan moved before I could blink.He didn’t
Registration was a folding table set up in a hallway that could’ve swallowed my entire apartment building, staffed by a woman with antlers and a clipboard who didn’t look up when I approached.“Name.”“Mia Callahan.”She looked up.Not fast, not dramatic, just a flick of her eyes to my face and then down to whatever list she was holding, and I could see her expression change. I’d gotten good at reading that look over the last day. It meant she’d found my name and understood what it meant that I was standing there.“Human,” she said.“Last time I checked.”“House assignment’s already flagged. Special candidate.” She said the words like they tasted bad. “You’re in Vale House. Dorm building’s east side, room 214.”“Great, thanks.”“Physical evaluation’s still pending review,” she added, not looking at me anymore. “Some professors think the waiver should be revoked. You’ll want to keep your head down.”I didn’t have anything good to say to that, so I grabbed my room key and left before sh
“You’re actually going.”Priya said it like an accusation, arms crossed, blocking my apartment doorway like she could physically stop me from leaving.“I have to go. It’s not optional. It’s the only way out of four flights of stairs and a landlord who thinks ‘broken heat’ is a personality trait.”“It’s a school for monsters, Mia.”“They prefer ‘races.’ I read a pamphlet.”She didn’t laugh. I’d never seen Priya not laugh at something, not once in four years, and it made my stomach twist worse than the letter had.“What if something happens to you up there?”“Then I guess you get my apartment. Rent’s due on the fifth.”“I hate you.” She hugged me anyway, hard enough to hurt my still-bruised elbow. “Text me. Every day. I don’t care if it’s just one word.”“Every day,” I promised, and meant it, and knew even as I said it that I probably wouldn’t manage it.The train to the Academy left from a platform I’d never noticed before, tucked behind the regular station like the city was embarrasse
I ran after him. “Hey!” I shoved through two people carrying grocery bags, my sneakers slapping the wet pavement. “That’s mine, you absolute—” He cut left into the alley behind Denny’s Pharmacy. Mistake. I knew that alley better than he did. Dead end, dumpster, a fence with a gap just wide enough for someone my size. Not his. I caught him right as he hit the fence, both hands fumbling with the wire, my bag still looped over his shoulder like he actually thought he was getting away with it. “Give it back,” I said. “Back off, kid.” “I’m nineteen. And that bag has my rent money in it, so no.” He turned around swinging. I’d love to tell you I saw it coming because I’m skilled, or trained, or secretly a genius at reading body language. Truth is, he telegraphed it so hard a blind man could’ve dodged it. I stepped inside the punch instead of away from it, drove my elbow into his ribs, and grabbed the strap of my bag while he was busy remembering how to breathe. “Thanks,” I said, and







