ZION

I knocked once and stepped into the headmaster’s office, expecting a scolding. What I got was worse: Eza lounging in a wingback chair like she owned the place, grape stem dangling from her fingers. The last time all three of us were in a room, I almost got kicked out. 

Headmaster Savi stood by the tall window. His gingery hair was a wild mane of long spirals, half tied back, half defying gravity. With piercing blue eyes, a velvet embroidered vest, and a jaw sculpted by ...