“You wouldn’t dare!”
“Try me and find out.”
My teeth chattered even louder when a biting wind blasted in from outside as another student entered. Damn those witches. I would have to persuade Miss Windborne to let me cultivate some toxic mushrooms in the greenhouse. A bout of explosive diarrhea would make those nasty bitches question their life choices.
My fingers reached for the thick spine of the book I’d found just as my magic sparked into life and the scent of ozone heated my body.
“Why the fuck are you dripping all over the floor?”
Alaric had kept his distance since the flag disaster, but it didn’t stop my traitorous magic from purring with joy at his presence. Even though I knew the mage could never claim me as his, my magic had different ideas.
“Water magic,” I replied, tugging the book free. At least my hands were dry. I’d hate to damage a book and incur the wrath of the librarians.
“You don’t have water magic.” The mage stepped closer. A rush of heat enveloped me in a warm caress, sucking all the water from my wet uniform. “So let me ask again, what happened?”
“Just another Tuesday in the life of a socially ostracized witch.”
Alaric’s jaw clenched as he read between the lines. “Who did this to you?”
I shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. You can’t go after every witch who thinks I’m an abomination to my species.”
“So it was a witch.” He leaned in close enough to tease my senses with his ozone scent and warm my skin with his body heat. Then he inhaled.
I cringed in embarrassment. Oh my goddess, did I smell bad?
“Polly’s magic.” Alaric’s mouth flattened into a thin line.
My embarrassment faded as his words sank in. “Polly? How do you know it was her magic?”
He smirked. “I can read magical signatures.”
“Oh, that’s cool.” Not a skill I’d heard of, but definitely useful.
“Yeah. I want to join the MIB when I graduate, but my father has other plans.” I had no plans whatsoever, but the MIB sounded like a smart career choice for a mage like Alaric. Not only was he powerful, but he also had plenty of political connections. Unlike me, who’d probably end up working in a shitty diner if my deadbeat demon dad didn’t abduct me by then.
I leaned against the shelf and stared up at the storm mage, surprised he was willing to talk to me in such a public place. Then again, there was nobody else around other than the librarian, and she rarely left her desk.
“What does your father expect you to do when you leave here?” Color me curious.
“Anything that benefits him.” Voices filtered in from the entrance. Alaric grabbed my hand and pulled me deeper into the stacks, past the Potions & Spell Ingredients section and into the Human History corner, where nobody ever ventured.
“What are you doing?!” If anyone saw us together, acting like we were up to no good, tongues would wag, and Alaric’s father might grow suspicious.
In my head, Tiberius Vane was all-seeing and all-knowing, a bit like the Eye of Sauron from a human fantasy series I’d watched last year. Did that make me a hobbit or a sexy elf?
“Making up for lost time,” Alaric growled before his lips crushed mine.
42
Alaric
I’d tried staying away from the witch. Truly I had. But every time I saw her, head down and trying her best not to attract attention from all the assholes who wanted to hurt her, I lost my shit.
The list of students who would suffer a painful demise at my hands grew by the day. But luckily for me, I had an accomplice who’d shown a great deal of talent for inflicting pain on those who’d wronged my soul-bonded mate.
Even soaked to the skin and with her hair a tangled mess, she shone brighter than all the stars in the cosmos.
On other females, the school’s uniform of a plain white shirt and gray skirt did nothing for me, but on her?
