Professor Kenna’s voice struck like divine punishment.
Magic slammed into me instantly.
Silver-green bindings wrapped around my chest and arms before hurling me backward into the wall hard enough to crack stone.
Across the corridor, Gunner suffered the same fate—except the idiot remained partially shifted with his torn pants exposing everyone to the deeply unfortunate sight of his half-formed Wolf cock.
“Oh my gods!”
“What the hell is that thing?”
I almost laughed.
Honestly, someone should photograph it for supernatural social media.
Humiliation builds character.
Then I looked toward Amrin.
And froze.
She was shaking.
Not afraid.
Not hurt.
Furious.
At me.
The realization hit instantly.
And gods help me?—
It was unbelievably hot.
“Sten!”
“Amrin,” I murmured automatically, my voice roughened from adrenaline and lingering rage.
My Luna looked ready to commit actual murder.
Her cheeks were flushed pink beneath the torchlight lining the corridor, lips parted with sharp breaths as her chest rose and fell beneath that oversized cream sweater I’d spent entirely too much time imagining removing from her body.
Fuck.
Even angry she was beautiful.
Especially when she was angry.
The lights overhead flickered softly across her pale skin while little blue sparks danced wildly around her fingertips, snapping through the air like miniature bolts of lightning.
I froze.
That—that was new.
Not illusion magic.
