Page 8 of Magic's Rise

“It’s easier to memorize when they do, though.” I tuck my wand back up my sleeve. “I’ll figure out something else.”

Mel’s hand falls on my other shoulder. “Stick to what works for you. Rhyming is fine.”

Aspen’s hold on me tightens. “It’s more limiting and is a bad habit.”

Mel’s fingers dig in. “It shows mental flexibility and creativity.”

When Aspen and Mel aren’t sucking face, they’re butting heads, and I end up being the problem witch, stuck between them more often than I’d like.

Pulled like a tug of rope by two growling mentors, I silently seek Tris’s eyes and mouth, Help.

Bestest friend and eternal spark that he is, he gives me two thumbs up and stays out of it.

POPSICLE MATE

The sound of the front door wakes me up, and I blink in confusion at the bunny wallpaper illuminated by the nightlight plugged into the wall.

Oh, yeah, I camped out in Ambros’s room after Tris flailed around too much in his sleep and smacked me in the face. The view through the window shows darkness outside, which means it’s not time to be awake.

Groggy, I roll over in bed and squint at the clock on the nightstand. There’s still an hour before I need to wake up.

Shivering, I burrow down into the warmth of the sheets and pull the blanket up over my head until only my eyes peek out.

A moment later, the door opens, and Ambros steps into the room. He pauses on the threshold, then softly closes the door and shrugs out of his vest. “Is that a Goldilocks in my bed?”

“Hush, Rosebud, I’m sleeping,” I mumble through the blanket, unwilling to give up my cozy cocoon.

A chuckle drifts through the room as he strips out of his black, military-grade tactical gear. “Even if you weren’t talking, I’d know you’re awake by your heartbeat.”

“This bed is taken.” I roll myself up in the bedding. “Try across the hall.”

“But this bed is just right.” The mattress dips and a tug on the blanket lets in a cool draft before Ambros slides in behind me, his bare skin as cold as a popsicle from patrolling the town.

With a yelp, I crawl away, but he catches me, dragging me back against his frozen body. “No! Get off!”

“Come on, Rowe.” He pins me down with his muscular arms. “It’s your duty as my mate to warm me up.”

“Lies!” As I wiggle to escape, something nudges my ass. “That better be a popsicle in your pants!”

“What pants?” His cold nose burrows into the curve of my shoulder. “That’s all me, baby.”

“Tiny erasers.” My pulse quickens as he moves up to my ear. “I’m going to really cap your fangs this time.”

“Liar.” He sucks my racing pulse into his mouth before letting it go. “Your heartbeat is saying Rosebud, I warmed your bed for you. Now let me warm the rest of you.”

I giggle at his high-pitched imitation of me. “I don’t sound like that.”

“Rosebud, I knew you would be hungry when you got home from a long night of protecting my town. Please, have your wicked way with me.” Playful nibbles move down my shoulder, his fangs dimpling my skin without piercing me. “Why, thank you, my love. That sounds delightful.”

Not wanting to disturb Owen, who sleeps just on the other side of the connected bathroom, I cover my mouth to stifle my laughter.

“Shh.” Making his way down my arm, his head disappears beneath the blanket. “You’ll wake up the others, and they’re trying to sleep.”

I roll onto my back to escape the ticklish bites. “I was trying to sleep.”

His head burrows under my shirt, and pops out of my collar, our noses touching. “You were already awake when I came into the room.”

My eyes cross to bring him into focus. “The front door woke me. You need to work on stealth, spy man.”

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