Chapter 4 The Education

Emma Stone - POV

I wake up in a bed that costs more than my entire semester's tuition.

The sheets are silk, not the scratchy cotton from my old dorm. The walls are painted cream instead of cinder block gray. Sunlight streams through actual windows with real curtains, not the tiny squares with metal blinds I'm used to.

This isn't my room.

I sit up fast, and my head spins. I'm wearing pajamas I've never seen before - soft cotton with tiny flowers on them. Someone undressed me. Someone put me in these clothes. Someone moved me here while I was unconscious.

"Good morning, Emma."

Four voices speak at once. I turn to see Ryan, Blake, Cole, and Kai sitting in chairs around the room like they're keeping watch. Ryan has a medical textbook open in his lap. Blake is scrolling through his phone. Cole stands by the window like he's guarding it. Kai sits cross-legged on the floor with a sketchpad.

"Where am I?" My voice comes out scratchy and weak.

"Legacy Hall," Ryan says, closing his book. "Reserved for students with special circumstances."

"How long was I out?"

"Three days," Blake says. "The binding ritual took more out of you than we expected."

Three days. I've been unconscious for three days while these four strangers watched me sleep.

"Jess," I say, trying to get out of bed. "Is she okay?"

Cole moves faster than should be possible, steadying me when I wobble. His hand on my arm feels warm and solid and safe, which makes no sense given the situation.

"Your roommate is fine," he says. "Back in her regular dorm, attending classes. She doesn't remember anything unusual happening."

"You erased her memory?"

"We returned it to normal," Blake corrects. "The supernatural coma was the aberration, not her current state."

I sink back onto the bed, relief making me weak. Jess is okay. Whatever else happens, at least Jess is safe.

"Why am I here?" I ask.

Ryan stands up, switching into what I'm starting to recognize as his doctor mode. "The binding ritual created physical changes in your neural pathways. You need monitoring while your brain adapts to processing enhanced psychic information."

"In English, please."

"Your abilities got stronger," Kai says from the floor. "Way stronger than anyone expected. Your brain needs time to figure out how to handle all that new power."

Blake walks to the window and pulls back the curtain. Outside, I can see the main campus quad, but from higher up than my old dorm room. "Welcome to your new life, Emma. This is where the university houses its most valuable assets."

"I'm not an asset. I'm a person."

"You're both," Blake says with that politician's smile. "The sooner you accept that, the easier this transition will be."

I stand up, testing my balance. The room doesn't spin this time. "I want to see my old room. I want my stuff."

"Already moved," Cole says. "Your belongings are in the closet."

"What if I don't want to live here? What if I want to go back to my regular dorm?"

The four men exchange looks. Ryan checks his watch like he's timing something.

"Try it," he says simply.

I walk to the door, expecting someone to stop me. No one moves. The hallway outside is carpeted and well-lit, with oil paintings on the walls instead of fire safety posters. Everything screams expensive.

I find the elevator and press the button for the ground floor. Still no one tries to stop me. Maybe this isn't as bad as I thought. Maybe I really do have choices.

The lobby of Legacy Hall looks like a fancy hotel, with marble floors and crystal chandeliers. I push through the front doors into the morning sunlight and start walking across campus toward my old dorm.

I make it about fifty yards before the pain hits.

It starts as a headache, then spreads down my neck and into my chest. My heart rate spikes like I'm running a marathon. My hands shake, and spots dance in front of my eyes.

I turn around and start walking back toward Legacy Hall. With each step closer, the pain fades. By the time I reach the front doors, I feel normal again.

The four men are waiting in the lobby.

"Physical withdrawal," Ryan explains, like he's discussing the weather. "The binding created a neural dependency. You can't get more than a hundred yards away from us without experiencing severe symptoms."

"What about you?" I ask. "Can you leave me?"

Blake winces slightly. "We experienced some discomfort when you walked away."

Cole rubs his temples. "More than discomfort."

"So we're all stuck together," I say.

"We're all connected," Ryan corrects. "There's a difference."

Kai jumps up from his chair. "Want to see something cool?"

Before I can answer, he grabs my hand and leads me toward the elevator. The moment our skin touches, I feel his excitement like it's my own emotion. Colors seem brighter, sounds sharper. Through his eyes, I see the world as a painting waiting to happen.

"The connection works both ways," he says, grinning. "We can share more than just power now."

The elevator takes us to the top floor. Kai leads me down a hallway lined with doors marked with brass nameplates. He stops at one that reads "K. West" and pushes it open.

The room beyond is a studio artist's dream. Canvases line the walls, some finished, others half-done. The smell of paint and turpentine fills the air. But what makes me stop breathing is the paintings themselves.

Every single one shows me.

Me reading in the library. Me walking across campus. Me sleeping. Me crying. Me laughing. Hundreds of versions of my face, painted in different styles but all unmistakably me.

"How long have you been watching me?" I whisper.

"Not watching," Kai says. "Seeing. The visions started about six months ago. I thought I was going crazy until Ryan ran some tests."

"What kind of tests?"

Ryan appears in the doorway behind us. "Neurological scans. Brain wave patterns during his prophetic episodes. The images he painted matched surveillance footage of you from the exact times and locations he claimed to see."

A chill runs down my spine. "You were spying on me."

"We were trying to understand what was happening," Blake says, joining us in the studio. "Kai's never had prophetic visions about specific people before. When we realized he was seeing a potential conduit, we had to investigate."

Cole leans against the doorframe. "Your grandmother appeared in his paintings too. Right before we found her."

I turn to stare at the painted versions of myself. In some of them, I look happy. In others, terrified. In one canvas near the back, I'm surrounded by golden light with my hands raised like I'm conducting an orchestra of power.

"Is that my future?" I ask, pointing at the glowing version.

"One possible future," Kai says. "But futures can change. That's the whole point of seeing them."

Blake checks his phone. "Dinner starts in an hour. You'll need to meet the other Legacy Hall residents."

"Other residents?"

"Students with enhanced abilities," Ryan explains. "The university has been quietly recruiting them for decades. You're joining a very exclusive community."

An hour later, I'm sitting in a dining hall that looks like something from a medieval castle. Long wooden tables, stone walls, stained glass windows that cast colored patterns on the floor. About thirty students eat and talk in small groups, but they all stop when we walk in.

Every pair of eyes follows me to our table. Some look curious. Others look scared. A few look jealous, like I've taken something that should have been theirs.

"Ignore them," Blake murmurs as we sit down. "They'll adjust."

"What are they adjusting to?"

"You're the first successful conduit binding in over twenty years," Ryan says quietly. "That makes you either very powerful or very dangerous. Possibly both."

A young woman with perfect blonde hair and expensive clothes approaches our table. She's beautiful in the way models are beautiful, with sharp cheekbones and ice-blue eyes.

"You must be Emma," she says, extending a manicured hand. "I'm Dr. Vera Kane, psychology department. I'll be your academic advisor."

I shake her hand automatically, and the vision hits like a lightning strike.

Water closing over my head. Lungs burning as I try to breathe. Someone holding me down, keeping me underwater. Through the ripples, I see a face looking down at me with cold satisfaction.

Dr. Vera Kane's face.

The vision ends, but the fear doesn't. This woman, with her perfect smile and helpful attitude, is going to try to kill me. The nightmares I've been having for years weren't just dreams. They were warnings.

"It's lovely to meet you, Emma," Dr. Kane says, still holding my hand. "I have so many questions about your unique abilities. I think we're going to work very well together."

I force myself to smile back, even though my heart is hammering against my ribs. "I'm sure we will."

But as she walks away, I realize the four men bound to me might not be my biggest problem.

My biggest problem is the woman who just offered to help me.