Chapter 35 A New Home
The transition from the gritty, sulfur-stained streets of my old life to the shimmering moonstone paths of Salvation felt less like a walk and more like a fever dream I wasn’t sure I wanted to wake up from. The air in Requiem didn’t just sit in my lungs; it vibrated, a low-frequency hum of pure power that made the fine hairs on my arms stand at attention.
I followed the towering silhouette of Ryker, my gaze unashamedly tracing the way his leather jacket strained against his shoulders with every predatory stride. Behind us, I felt the silent, heavy presence of Malik—a cooling contrast to Ryker’s heat, like a shadow cast by a sun that was far too bright.
"Close your mouth, doll," Ryker drawled without looking back. "The flies here have more teeth than you’re used to."
"I’m just admiring the architecture," I snapped back, my voice still slightly raspy from the liquid fire he’d poured down my throat. "It’s a lot more impressive than your brooding personality."
Ryker let out a dark, appreciative chuckle, but it was cut short as we reached the Great Hall. If the outside of Salvation was a gothic masterpiece, the inside was a cathedral built by a god with a penchant for intimidation. Arched ceilings vanished into a swirling mist of starlight, and the walls were lined with tapestries that seemed to move if you looked at them too long.
At the far end, standing on a dais of obsidian, was a man who looked like he’d been carved out of a thundercloud. This was Headmaster Juda Gringer. He was grizzled, his face a roadmap of ancient scars, and his eyes—cold, piercing, and utterly devoid of warmth—settled on me with the weight of a death sentence.
"So," Juda’s voice boomed, echoing through the cavernous space. "The human catalyst finally arrives. You look remarkably fragile for someone supposedly carrying the weight of a prophecy."
I felt Malik step forward, his aura radiating a sudden, protective chill. "She is more than she appears, Headmaster. Her transition was... successful."
Juda grunted, a sound of pure disdain. "Success is measured in survival, Dolian, not in sentiment. Listen closely, girl. Salvation is not a sanctuary; it is a forge. You will learn the laws of the light and the necessities of the dark. But know this: purity is our shield. Angels and demons stay in their own quarters. Humans... or whatever you are now... stay where they are put. No mingling. No distractions. The war doesn’t care about your heart; it only cares about your utility."
I felt a surge of bratty defiance rise in my chest. "Right. No mingling. I’ll be sure to tell the cosmic entities trying to kill me to respect my personal space and the school’s housing policy."
Juda’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something like surprise—or perhaps just irritation—crossing his face. "You have a tongue. Let’s see if you have the spine to match it. Mentors, take her to the outskirts. She’ll be housed with the wolfless whelp. Since they’re both aberrations, they might as well share a cage."
He dismissed us with a wave of his hand that felt like a slap. As we turned to leave, Ryker leaned in, his breath hot against my ear. "First rule of Salvation, doll: the Headmaster is an ass. Second rule: I’ve always been partial to breaking rules. Especially the ones about quarters."
I suppressed a shiver that had nothing to do with the drafty hall. My new life was starting in a dorm on the fringe of a magical fortress, under the thumb of a man who hated me, and flanked by two beings who seemed determined to tear my world apart in very different ways.
Predictable? Not a chance.
The 'cage' Juda had mentioned turned out to be a surprisingly plush suite in a dorm building that looked like it had been grown out of the side of a cliff. Vines of glowing ivy clung to the stone walls, and the windows overlooked a forest where the trees whispered in voices that sounded suspiciously like gossip.
I had barely stepped through the door when a blur of fiery red hair collided with me.
"You made it!" Scarlet squealed, pulling back to grip my shoulders. Her amber eyes searched mine, frantic and relieved. "I thought Ryker might have accidentally eaten you on the way here. Or Malik might have bored you to death with a lecture on divine grace."
I laughed, the sound grounding me in a way nothing else had since I’d 'died' in that alley. "It was a close call on both counts. But I’m here. Mostly intact."
We spent the next hour unpacking the few things I’d brought—mostly supplies from the apothecary and the few clothes that didn't smell like sulfur. Scarlet moved with a restless energy, her 'wolfless' status doing nothing to dim the vibrancy of her spirit. We sat on the edge of my new bed, which felt like sleeping on a cloud, and shared a look that said everything we didn't have the words for yet.
"We’re the outcasts, Amaya," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "The human with the ghost-visions and the wolf who can’t shift properly. We have to stick together. A pact?"