I couldn’t help but take to liking James immediately, which was odd for me. He stood only a few inches taller than I did and his friendly nature set me at ease right way. He was playful like Ryder minus the innuendo and something about him gave me the “big brother” vibe, even though I’d never had one. He had beautiful, naturally tanned skin thanks to his Native American ancestry as well as dark, long hair that he kept pulled back into a bun at his nape. Dark eyes were shadowed by thick lashes and eyebrows.However, what I liked most about him wasn’t his looks nor his personality—he was practically married, and I had more men than I knew what to do with.

It was his complete understanding of my safety and privacy that I loved. Plus, it seemed like the guys had filled him in not to touch me or make quick movements in my direction because he was extra careful around me, and I appreciated the effort. The fact that he would be able to follow me around discreetly in shifted form—flying above me—well that was my favorite part. The Council had signed off his bodyguard status and permitted him to shift outside of one of the spelled areas. Supposedly, it was against the rules to be shifted around humans unless it was sanctioned.

When I had found out he was a Thunderbird I had been awed, and nearly at the level of a fangirl. Hearing about them in Harry Potter had peaked my interest in them greatly. Come to think of it, him being a Thunderbird may account for my familiarity with him. If I remembered my lore correctly, Thunderbirds and Phoenix were considered to be relatives. My Phoenix chirped, sliding her feathers against my skin. Apparently, she felt the same way I did about him. It was still so odd to me that many of the creatures I had heard about were actually real. Maybe I could talk Theo into making a list for me of which ones were fake or extinct so I could memorize it? I may be less shocked that way when meeting new shifters.

“You good for your first class?” James flashed a grin my way as I played with the strap of my bag. “If you keep messing with that the whole thing is going to come unraveled. You don’t have a test or something today, do you? You’ve gone all quiet on me.”

“It’s not that.” I tried to keep my fingers from messing with the strap of the bag and betraying my agitation. “I still don’t really feel like I fit here. There’s so much other stuff going on right now. It feels pointless, in a way, to be here; especially since I’m dragging you and the guys into more issues because of it.”

“The Council could change their mind, Nix.” James’ voice was low, avoiding any prying ears. “Just because they’re extremely protective of you for the moment doesn’t mean it won’t lessen. They were that way with me at first as well. The reins have loosened over the years. You’re still only eighteen. Don’t count yourself out just yet. Give yourself time to enjoy just being in college and being with your friends.”

I shot him a smile, though it wavered a little at the edges. “Thank you for the advice, oh wise one.”

“Wise one, huh? I like it.”

I giggled, wanting to roll my eyes at him. “Well, it was wise one or Newt. I figured I could go back and forth until I decide.” He snorted, understanding my joke but refusing to acknowledge it. Hey, not everyone could be cool enough to be a super fan. “This is me.” I gestured to my building, noting that I was already cutting it close to my start time. “You going to wait for me here?”

He hesitated a moment, then nodded reluctantly. I knew he would have preferred to follow me inside so that his bodyguard duties were complete. However, he knew that drawing attention to me was not a wise choice, nor would it sit well with me and I could begin to rebel. While I wasn’t bitchy enough—well, most days—to do it purposefully, I needed my freedom and my Phoenix did too.

I continued twirling the straps on my bag as I walked towards class, noting the twinge of cramps starting in my abdomen. Crap. Had I remembered to toss pads and tampons in my backpack ? Being so irregular, I always tried to carry a supply, but I wasn’t sure if I had remembered to replace them when I cleaned my bag out.

“Annika.” The cool voice gained my attention, and I tried hard not to groan. Standing next to the doorway of my classroom was Ms. Stone, the guidance counselor, and a young man who looked to be about my age. He was what I would have classified as a surfer boy type. His skin was tanned, though looked like it would begin to fade once the weather cooled. His hair was a dark blonde, lighter at the tips and highlighted, with eyes of apple green. I paused, trying to paste a smile on my face. “I’ve heard from Ahmya that special circumstances have allowed you to stay outside of your dormitory.” She frowned, highlighting her disapproval. I didn’t bother to offer up details. If she didn’t have them, I doubted she was a shifter, or at least a highly ranked one. My Phoenix hissed. She remembered this woman well and was not happy to see her. At least the Council had delivered on their promise. I tried to breathe deeply to both calm myself and to try to ease some of the cramping in my abdomen. A very light shifter scent reached me, and I cocked my head. It must be the boy because I don’t remember her having any scent of shifter during our first meeting.

“Yes, ma’am.” As she was still staring at me, I realized she had been waiting for an answer to her statement. I had always hated that. If you were going to state something, state it and move on. If you were going to ask a question, even if it were a question that needed a yes or no answer, just ask the question. Playing word games where people had to guess whether you wanted a response, or if you were talking to yourself, annoyed me.

“As I mentioned in our last meeting, I think it is essential for incoming students to have as normal a student life as possible. Without living in the dorms, there will be quite a bit you miss. As Ahmya has told me that you have not shown an interest in any of the student groups nor seem to be socializing with most of the other students, it seemed you have not heeded my advice.” Was this woman serious? Albeit I had told her off politely before, but I had still told her off. She wasn’t a council member, and therefore I didn’t have to defer to her.

“The school has approved my living arrangements as well as my class schedule. My teachers have all been notified of the reasons for my absence, and have no issues, nor have I fallen behind in any of my work. Is there something else you need?” I knew I was being brusque, a risk with a woman who had some power over my grades, but I couldn’t help it. I had too many people interfering in my life at this point, and this woman who didn’t even know me and allowed rumors to form her opinions was the last straw.

“Yes. If we have students who are having issues adjusting, we do sometimes offer a student counselor or student buddy. Someone who can introduce them around, show them the sights, and get them acquainted with appropriate student living. I think that Mason would be a good fit for you.” She indicated the boy next to her who squirmed slightly, a flush riding his cheeks.

I gaped at her in shock. I had specifically told her the last time we had spoken that I was making plenty of friends and was comfortable and doing well in my college experience. Why was she pushing so hard for this? And then to bring a boy I had never met and encouraged me to spend time with him; weren’t buddies usually of the same gender, or was that just in the movies? “Ms. Stone, I appreciate that you have followed up on me. Ahmya is not the best source of information as we aren’t close friends.” That was like trying to swallow gravel. Not close friends was about as accurate as saying that snakes and mongooses weren’t friends. “I have made quite a few friends since coming here, and I am absolutely in love with Anchorage. My classes and adjustment are going well, and since, for the most part, I am healthy now, a student buddy is just a waste of time.” Belatedly I glanced at the boy who had gone an odd shade of red under his tan. “No offense, Mason.”

Ms. Stone opened her mouth to speak, and I held up a hand to ward her off. “Ma’am, I’m running late to class. I assume you know this as you were waiting here to speak with me.”

“At least give Mason your contact details. You never know if you may change your mind.” She sent me that forced, sweet smile again. It did nothing to lighten the steel in her eyes. My Phoenix squawked and hissed in irritation.

“Thank you, Ma’am, but I don’t think that’s necessary. I can reach out to your office if it does become the case.” I tried to walk around her. I hadn’t been joking when I said she was making me late for class, and I was sure our conversation outside of the doorway was drawing the attention of other students and quite possibly the professor as well.

“Fine.” Her tone was mulish, her face drawn down in distaste. “I’ll give him your contact details instead. He can follow up with you to see how you’re doing.”

I froze, breathing deeply to try and control my Phoenix, who was raging to be let out. We had escaped Michael’s control to be thrust into the control of the Council and now this. Why did adults all believe they knew what was best for you, even if they didn’t know you? “Please don’t provide any of my contact information. Mason, I’m sure you’re a nice guy, but that would make me extremely uncomfortable. There is no reason that you should even be offering to breach ethical guidelines and share my personal information—whether that’s my student history, my medical history, my contact details, or even my class schedule—with another student even if you were hoping I would accept your offer and let him be my ‘buddy’. Now, I’m going to pretend like this conversation didn’t happen. I don’t feel well, and you have made me late for class. Excuse me. Have a good day, Mason.” I ducked into the classroom, sucking air in between my teeth. The tiny, twinging cramps were starting to ramp up, and I had had enough. I wanted to sit down, wait out the end of this lecture, and go home to curl up with my heating pad. I had had enough for the day, and I was sick of being polite. Ignoring the stares of the other students, I grabbed my notebook from my bag, tuned into the professor, and tried to drown out the world around me.