Page 4 of Evergreen

I felt the lightning before I saw it, a sudden surge of raw energy that made every hair on my body stand on end. But something was wrong. The energy wasn’t dispersing like it should. It was gathering, concentrating, building into something massive and uncontrollable and⁠—

Oh, fuck.

The bolt came down like the wrath of the gods, a jagged white-hot spear that split the darkness and⁠—

It didn’t hit the yard. It didn’t hit the frat house.

It hit the old Victorian greenhouse on the far side of campus, the one where all the herbalism classes were held. The one with a giant metal spire sticking out of the center of the roof like a lightning rod.

The entire building’s roof exploded in a shower of glass shards that caught the light and scattered like diamonds through the sky. It was terrifying and beautiful all at once. Truly a sight to remember. However, inside the greenhouse, the plant life erupted in flames, orange and red and impossibly bright against the darkness and the snow.

For a moment, everything went silent. The wind died. The snow stopped falling. Even the thunder seemed to hold its breath.

Then absolute fucking chaos.

People were screaming for real now, not in excitement but in genuine terror. Someone was yelling about calling campus security. I stood frozen, my hands still raised, staring at the burning greenhouse with a sinking feeling in my stomach that no amount of alcohol could dull.

“Shit,” I heard myself say, my voice small and stupid. “Shit, shit, shit.”

The magical sirens started wailing across campus within minutes. Security patrols began teleporting in all around campus, materializing out of nowhere with their battle wands drawn. They were on high alert, which I’d forgotten about in my drunken state. Only a couple of months ago the academy had been attacked by the Purity Front. I should’ve thought about that before I called down a lightning bolt from fucking space.

Most of campus security headed for the greenhouse to contain the fire. However, several were turning in my direction, their tracking spells already in effect. The magically enhanced storm had my signature on it. Their spells would lead them right to me.

It didn’t help that every single person standing around me was looking at me like they’d just watched me burn the entire place down.

Which, technically, I had.

I let my hands fall to my sides.

“Fuck.”

Chapter 3

Cass

“Mr. Reed,” Dean Thornfield growled, his hands shaking as he gripped the edges of his desk. “What the fuck were you thinking?!”

Faculty swearing. Not a good sign.

I felt my jaw clench as I stood before his desk, still reeking of smoke and cheap alcohol. The stench of ozone from my lightning magic probably wasn’t helping either. Dean Thornfield’s face was a dangerous shade of purple, and I’d never seen him this angry before. I’d seen him stern. I’d seen him disappointed. But this? This was something else entirely.

“I...” I started, then stopped. What the fuck was I supposed to say? That I’d been drunk? That I’d been showing off? That I’d let the magic get away from me because I was too caught up in the rush of it all?

All of those things were true, and all of them made me sound like an absolute idiot.

“The greenhouse is destroyed,” he continued, his voice low and controlled in a way that was somehow worse than if he’d been yelling. “Fifty years of research. Rare specimens that took decades to cultivate. And you—” He pointed a shaking finger at me. “You burned it all to the ground because you wanted to impress your drunk friends.”

“Sir, I⁠—”

“Don’t,” he held up a hand. “I don’t want to hear it. Do you have any idea what you’ve done? That building housed plants that were irreplaceable. Some of them were the last of their species. And now they’re ash.”

I stood there, my hands clenched into fists at my sides. The alcohol had worn off. It had been replaced by a sick, twisting sensation in my gut. I could still see it; the moment the lightning had hit. The way the roof had exploded. The way the flames had consumed everything inside.

“What happens now?” I asked quietly, already knowing the answer wasn’t going to be good.

Dean Thornfield leaned back in his chair, and I watched as he took a deep breath, trying to compose himself. His hands were no longer shaking, but his eyes… His eyes were cold.

“You have two options, Mr. Reed,” he said finally. “Expulsion. Effective immediately. Or you can work in the greenhouse, what’s left of it, for the remainder of this semester. No pay. No academic credit. Just labor. Hard, physical labor, helping to rebuild what you destroyed.”