The Lies That Shadow Us

Chapter Eleven

Thomas Wayland, headmaster of Alfera Academy, stood slightly over six feet tall in his signature custom-fit Givenchy suit. He was exceptionally handsome, with dark hair and blue eyes. Jeremy took after him. Whereas Roman took after their mother, as light as sunshine. Midnight and sunshine, she liked to call them.

Surprised by the modern touch, he pressed his index finger to the ring doorbell. He had never known Julian to follow the trends of the current time. But then again, he supposed he didn't know Julian very well, if at all. Some of it was his fault, he thought regretfully.

Thomas had tried his best throughout the years to bring Julian closer to the coven but could never seem to get him to want a relationship with them. Nevertheless, he had promised his sister Fiona that he would care for her only child.

Thoughts of his beloved long-dead sister arose in his ancient mind, making him feel older than he was. He may look like he was in his forties, but Thomas Wayland was 437 years old. Witches aged like all supernatural beings, but they had one of the lengthiest lifespans because of their magic.

Their auras were a part of their soul; the stronger the aura, the longer they lived. He often didn't feel the brutality in his heart from her absence, only the lingering pain of losing his little sister.

Today, however, was not that day. Fiona would never have forgiven him if she knew the life Julian had lived. The burning guilt was especially crushing today, and he wasn't sure why.

Grief often did that to a person, he supposed. It isn't something a person moves on from when they lose a loved one. It is an ever-present ache only dulled by time.

The door swung open before he could berate himself more, revealing a disgruntled Julian. He still took Thomas' breath away. Julian was the spitting image of his mother, everything but the eyes.

Those were that bastard Callum's eyes. May he rot in hell, he cursed to himself. It was his fault Fiona was dead. He pushed for a child; all she ever wanted was to make the bastard happy.

"Oh great, it's you," sarcasm dripped from Julian's tone, his displeasure clear. He ran a hand through his already disheveled hair. Dark locks in all directions. Something was bothering him, Thomas thought.

"Yes, hello, I'm sorry to disturb you, son, but can we have a chat for a moment," his accent was slightly detectable as he spoke. The Wayland coven had migrated here from Europe about two centuries ago. Thomas hid his sweaty palms clasped tightly behind his back, eyes pleading.

His question only seemed to anger Julian further, to Thomas' dismay. He hated seeing him distraught, but he was never one for displays of affection, not even for his own boys.

"I'm not your son. What do you want? I'm already having a shit day. I really don't need you here right now," that seemingly permanent snarl lined his face. How could he get through to him?

"Julian, all I'm asking for is a few minutes." Thomas was ready for him to say fuck off like he usually did, but he shocked him by opening the door further. Well, that was a start, more than he'd ever gotten before.

"Five minutes, old man, then you can fuck off," Thomas smirked and shook his head, he had missed his nephew. He walked into the large shadowed foyer. Dark mahogany wood covered the floors, along with red-tinted Persian rugs.

Every window was covered. Minimal light was his preference he gathered. One thing he did know was that Julian had always had a good sense of taste. Julian led him over to what he assumed was a formal sitting room.

Two olive-colored velvet sofas sat back to back from each other, two beautifully carved wooden coffee tables were placed in front of them, and more Persian rugs, but these were different shades of red. The layout made the room look even more spacious.

"Are you going to sit down or ogle my furniture, Thomas?" Julian asked with impatience. Now was the time. It was the farthest he had gotten from the boy, probably since he was obviously dealing with something.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, attempting to calm his nerves, "You are nearing your century mark; you are a man now. I believe it would be best for you to come and stay at Alfera." Julian looked up at him, coming out of his daze, and scoffed loudly.

"That's what this is. What don't you understand in that fat head of yours, old man? I. AM. NOT. INTERESTED," a feral growl was used to say that last sentence and Thomas narrowed his eyes, his patience wearing thin.

"Listen here, boy, these temper tantrums are getting old. Your mother would have wanted you properly trained where we ALL attended. The Wayland coven has been legacies at Alfera since its inception, and you will be going," Thomas slammed his fist on the table, rattling the plants atop it.

Julian stood swiftly and walked over to where Thomas stood, mere inches separating them. Two predators in one space was never a good thing.

Julian looked at Thomas with frigid eyes and roughly pressed his index finger to his chest, "Don't talk about her to me. I never knew her and don't want to know you or your precious coven. I'm not your golden boy, Roman. You can shove your righteous legacy down your throat and out of your ass. Get the fuck out," anger radiated from him, red mist swirling around the room like a fiery haze. Threatening. He had only witnessed this amount of power a few times in his long life.

"Julian, I apologize. I shouldn't have pushed you, but your powers are very dangerous. We have another new student who just enrolled last night, and I feel like you can help each other. She has immense power as well. Her name is Lily Reid," Thomas would plead with him for as long as he would allow, maybe even after. This magic needed to be contained.

Julian's head snapped so ferociously towards Thomas he feared it would come off his neck, "What did you say?"

Thomas' surprise by his sudden interest was not hidden, "A new student has enrolled at Alfera. Roman is to escort her at three to my office for an initial meeting." At the mention of Roman's name, a snarl escaped Julian. They never liked each other. Despised was more like it.

A look crossed Julian's features Thomas had never seen on him before, worry, he thought. He must have been mistaken because Julian worried for no one and nothing.

Julian clenched his jaw tight enough to snap and said between clenched teeth, "Okay."

Dumbstruck, Thomas didn't know what to say. He was prepared to beg him but didn't prepare what to say if he agreed. An eye-wrinkling smile stretched the corners of Thomas' lips, his perfectly cut mustache moving with them.

"Splendid. That's great. I'll leave you to pack then. Can you meet me with Ms. Reid at three, then?" Julian didn't say another word; he just had that dazed look on his face again and nodded. He walked off to the foyer and up the steps taking two at a time, not looking back.

Thomas did what he came here to do. He would leave him to it. Laughing was not something he imagined he would do today. He was still in his thoughts as he waved his hands, and black mist created a circle-shaped swirling portal and stepped in.

He had much more to do today than he had initially planned for. It was time to make arrangements. After a century, Julian would join his rightful home, his family.