“Then it’s not the bonding you’re worried about?”
“No. I actually can’t wait for that part, but there’s this feeling. The only other time I felt like this was right before I met you.” I paused. “Do you think we should be worried about the Tribunal?” I asked for maybe the millionth time. There was a lot riding on it. Our punishments could even be death, although everyone kept saying that wouldn’t happen to us.
“No,” he said patiently. “People will make their statements. Then there will be a question and answer session—that’s going to be the hardest part. Then, we’ll get to say what we want. Biting you was a serious offense, but we’ve already passed the Seven’s test, and Sebastian and Donovan themselves pardoned us. This is just a formality. It’d be different if that hadn’t happened yet. We’d need to prepare defenses and arguments, but I can’t think of a reason why it wouldn’t go our way now. Just tell everyone what happened, and they’ll get it. It’s going to be fine. Trust me.”
“Okay.” I’d been working on my speech for the past couple of days, but it wasn’t going very well. The Tribunal wasn’t until Monday night, so I still had some time to get it done. But if Dastien wasn’t too worried, then I shouldn’t be either.
He started down the dirt road. “It’s going to be okay. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it together.”
“Right.” I squeezed his hand, but I wasn’t sure I believed that. I’d never been lucky enough to have things go smoothly. Something told me this wasn’t going to be as easy as Dastien thought.
Chapter Three
The drive from my parents’ house didn’t take long. The baseline of Andrew Bayer’s “Bullet Catch” rattled the speakers, and I grinned. I freaking loved this track. The dirty beats made my heart race every time. When the breakdown hit, Dastien squeezed my leg.
He was smiling. I love this one, too.
It’s kind of perfect, right?
He cranked the volume as he hit the gas, and we wound through the curves of a back road, pushing his fancy-ass car to its limits.
This. This was why I was with him. He’d totally played this track for me—for us—because he knew it’d make me happy.
The greens and browns of the forest blurred past. As we neared campus, a brick fence loomed. The gates to St. Ailbe’s were just ahead. I held my breath, waiting for Dastien to slow down, but he blew straight past.
I gripped the door handle. You missed it.
Did I?
He sounded a little more than mischievous. The guy was definitely up to something. Where are we going?