Broken Kingdom (Corium University Trilogy 3)

“Why are we listening to you?”

I don’t know who said it. Darkness makes tracing the origin of the muttered complaint impossible. That’s why I treat every person in front of me to the same cold, forbidding look. “By all means, allow me to step down while you take the reins. You were doing so well before I spoke up, clucking like a bunch of ruffled hens thinking the sky is falling. Feel free to get lost in the dark or die in the stairwell.” One by one, they drop their gazes to the floor. “I thought so.”

I turn to monitor the progress around the room. Vito’s team has already built a fire while the group Ren got together is handing out flashlights and lanterns. There’s no telling how much longer it will take Brittney to get us back up and running, but at least we’ll be warmer than before.

“We should stay together,” I call out as a reminder when the flashlight beams bob farther away from the core of the group huddled in front of the fire.

I leave it to the teachers to wrangle the students since that’s their job, after all. Now that the surprise has worn off, and we have light and heat, they seem to have woken up to their responsibilities. We may all be full-grown, but technically, we are still under their care.

Ren joins me, speaking low near my ear so only I can hear him. “This is fucked. How much longer are we supposed to hang around in the dark?”

“It’s not so much the dark I’m concerned with as it is the lack of ventilation. We can’t return to our rooms until the system kicks on.” The notion of setting up beds on the unforgiving floor makes my muscles ache.

We aren’t freezing now, but it’s hardly warm and toasty. I suppose sleeping in shifts would help when it comes to making sure the fires don’t die, but how many of the people surrounding me do I trust not to nod off in the middle of a shift?

It would be an excuse to huddle close to Aspen, though, wouldn’t it? To keep each other warm through the night. I wish I could trust myself to leave it there, as a matter of survival, but I know better. Especially when she insists on throwing herself at me. There is only so much self-control in existence.

All this time, she’s been silent. Her presence at my side somehow strengthens me. I know she’s safe. I feel her warmth and softness. With that concern silenced, I can turn my energy toward keeping shit together until this passes.

It doesn’t take much longer. The lights flicker, then go dark, but flare to life again before anyone can groan in disappointment. A sigh of relief rises in the room.

“She did it,” Aspen whispers. There’s a fierceness to it, something like pride in someone she clearly admires.

Pride that can only be shared between us since I doubt Lucas’s warning about keeping this quiet has an expiration date.

It’s as if he heard me thinking about him. The sound of his footsteps echoes off the marble before he appears. “All right, everyone. The power is back in, and the elevators are back in use. Return to your rooms.” Nobody would guess that a short time ago, he was snarling in frustration and furious over the idea of dealing with panicked parents. Now he’s the image of calm confidence.

It seems that isn’t enough for everyone. “But what happened?” someone asks, followed by a chorus of murmurs. Only the briefest flash of impatience reveals itself on Lucas’s face. He brings it under control so fast, I might have imagined it.

But I know better than to believe that. He’s a master of concealing his inner thoughts.

Now, he’s brisk and efficient. “A fluke in this system, one of those things. Everything is working as it should now.”

“But there was an explosion,” someone points out.

“We’ll look into it, but it looks like it had something to do with the backup generator trying to jump on. We’ll have a team of technicians on it first thing in the morning.” He clears his throat, his brow lowering like he means business. “Back to your rooms. Now.” There’s no arguing with him, and we all know it.

It will mean letting go of Aspen again, though.

I hate how difficult this is. Conflict still blazes in my chest. I’m doing the right thing for everyone involved, but somehow, it isn’t enough.

Ren meets my gaze over the heads of students now shuffling away. I know what he’s thinking, and he’s right. I don’t have to like it.

“Go ahead.” I give her a gentle but firm push in Lucas’s direction. “He’ll take you back to your room.”

She hesitates, her forehead creasing in confusion. “Couldn’t you walk me back?” she asks in a trembling voice that cuts me to the quick.