Imdalind Academy: Rogue Royalty: Book Two by Rebecca Ethington

Author:Rebecca Ethington [Ethington, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781949725353
Publisher: Imdalind Press
Published: 2019-08-26T05:00:00+00:00

19

Rowan

I had overreacted.

Then I had overreacted further when I had returned to my dorm and thrown one of the overstuffed chairs through the window. Glass and stuffing were easily repaired, but it didn’t stop my father’s disappointed scowl from filling my mind, his eyes flashing dangerously blue as he reminded me to ‘watch my temper’.

Maybe this time all of those reminders and disappointed looks had a point. After nearly three months in this school, sleeping longer than before, and dealing with Sia and everything else, I was clearly walking a fine line.

Suppressing my magic was making everything more volatile. I needed to keep it under control if I was going to regain control of the dreams and my magic.

I was about as far away from that as I could be, considering that one buzz from my phone sent me jumping and the lamp on my bedside table shattering to the ground.

"Shit!" I yelled, barely catching the phone that I had thrown above me, Angela's picture twisting through the air as the screen flashed.

Thankfully, I had shattered the lamp and not the phone.

"Hello? Angela?" I said, the second the call connected, my heart in my throat. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah." Her little voice was swallowed by static, the connection buzzing. "Did I wake you up?"

Wake me? I glanced at the thankfully unbroken alarm clock on my nightstand. Two a.m.

"No, no. I was up."

She was the only one, besides our parents, who really understood what was going on. In a way, it was nice to have at least one person who knew. My throat closed up, the hairs on the back of my neck pricking up as I sat upright on the bed, the blankets I had been laying on shifting underneath me.

"Wait. Angie? Why are you awake?" The tension didn't leave as I waited for her answer, listening to her breathing and all the 'ums' and 'ehs' that usually came before she found her words.

"I had a bad dream." That could mean so many things, especially for her, it did nothing to ease the tension.

"Did you tell mom about it?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose in an attempt to banish the headache pounding at the base of my neck. I didn't know if I was in a place I could help her.

"Mom's not here." Her voice was nothing more than a whisper, but it slammed against my head like a bass drum.

"Dad?" She exhaled, she knew what I was doing.

"They are both gone, some emergency thing. But I don't want to talk to them, Row. I wanted to talk to you." Nine years old and she could already put me in my place. She clearly inherited that from mom.

I leaned back against the headboard, pressing my spine against the carved wood as if it could brace me for what was coming.

"What is it, Angie?"

"Dramin said you were my age when your sight first came, when Mom had you drink from the mug. Can you tell me what that was

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