Page 14 of Of Bone and Ash

Voices echo through the gray stone halls as I walk through them, moving to the stairs and walking from my building without making eye contact with the handful of students hanging out in the common areas. The courtyard is bustling with activity, no longer the quiet, peaceful place it was when I arrived yesterday. Groups of students crowd around every table, some with textbooks open, others laughing with phones in hand while visiting with their friends.

I walk past a group of tall boys, all wearing letterman jackets with Silverwood Devils written in bold letters on the backs. Large black and gold embroidery numbers embellish each coat as the boys shoulder through packs of students, leaving twitterpated girls in their wake.

A smirk tries to take over the indifferent expression I’ve taught myself to wear in public as I watch the girls twirl their hair and blink their long eyelashes at the boys. The boys do their part, one noticing the pretty girls and winking at them while the other elbows one of his friends and nods at the girls in unison, earning delighted giggles.

A brief flare of jealousy burns through me as I watch the girls. Not because they are getting attention or because they are stunning, because they definitely are. But because I know I’ll never have an interaction like that. It's silly to want a simple thing like flirting, but I do. I want to know what it would be like for someone to see me and wink. To smile at me and want to get to know me.

I frown and pull my attention away from the giggling girls, my shoulders stiff as I stomp across the courtyard. I ignore the random boy whose eyes widen when he sees me coming and pivots on his heel to rush in the opposite direction.

Maybe if I didn’t glare at everyone, I’d get different reactions. But it's hard when all I have ever known is people's fear. I navigate across a particularly crowded part of the courtyard, taking care not to touch anyone or let my magic slip. I stand up on my toes to double-check I’m still heading toward the dining hall, then gasp as I run into someone. Stumbling back a little, I blink in surprise when I hear them curse and their hands clamp down on my shoulders, stopping me from falling on my ass in the wet grass.

“Shit, sorry about that,” the guy says, an edge of frustration in his voice as he helps right me.

“No. It was my fault I wasn’t watching where I was going,” I grumble, my voice cracking in embarrassment and making my cheeks flame. I look up at the guy and offer him a tight-lipped smile, quickly stepping back from his hands when my magic shifts at the stranger's touch. The guy is about my height and has short brown hair and eyes. There’s nothing extraordinary about him, but there is a feeling of softness that my magic clings to that has me studying him a little longer than normal. Unsurprisingly, the guy's eyes widen when my magic shifts, his hands lowering instantly as he steps back. He doesn't run, but he doesn't look comfortable either. Slowly, a sour scent fills the space between us and I sigh.

See, this is what I’m talking about. Fear. It's always everyone’s first response.

“Uh, sorry again,” the guy mutters, shifting on his feet like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Gorden!” a deep voice yells, drawing our attention over to a crowded table where girls in tight black and gold tracksuits sit with big burly guys in letterman jackets hovering over them.

I look back at the guy, Gorden, and realize he’s wearing a matching jacket and frown. He looks way too small to be a rugby player. With the size of most of the guys around here, I would think this guy would get crushed.

“I’m gonna go…” the guy mutters awkwardly, looking at me once more, eyes shifting to mine for the briefest of moments as I nod, then watch as he scampers away. The guys at the table grin, a few of them clapping Gorden's shoulder as he joins them, and I’m just about to turn and head back in the direction of the dining hall when the sun decides to break through the gray clouds above. Curly, black hair that holds an almost unnatural gold sheen catches my attention, making my breath hitch and my heart stall painfully in my chest.

“No fucking way is my luck that bad,” I whisper to myself as I lean around the crush of bodies swarming the area. I scowl at them and step back, needing to know I’m just crazy and I’m seeing things, when my eyes suddenly collide with a beautiful set of hazel ones. My stomach plummets and my arms are going numb as I watch the boy from my past slowly stand from the picnic table he was sitting at. His eyes are wide with shock, and his plump lips are mouthing a name I never thought I would hear again.

Bile crawls up my throat as visions of the past collide with my present.

The scent of warm amber fills the air as a strong, warm palm cups my cheek. Soft hazel eyes stare down at me with a warmth I never knew existed until I saw it in his gaze. The firm, gentle press of his lips commands mine in a slow dance that makes my heart skip and feel alive for the first time.

I gasp for breath as the boy takes a small step forward. My lungs are burning; I feel like I’m drowning! More memories slam into me, making me stumble back, needing to keep distance between us as my nightmare plays out in my mind.

The sound of the ambulance as it screeched to a halt outside my house. His cold, still body lying on my bed, my hand pressed to his chest as I scream for help. Those lips, which just made me feel something extraordinary, turning blue as I cried his name.

“Teos? What's wrong, baby?” a dainty blonde calls out, standing from the table and taking hold of his thick arm, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. I don’t blame her. All I wanted was to look at him the same way. I can feel my throat tighten with pain that I desperately try to shove away, but I know I’m only moments away from losing control.

Both emotional and magical.

I watch him, Teos Ramadan. The boy who fought his way into my life despite my warnings of danger. The boy who made me feel like the most precious thing in the world. The boy I killed with a simple kiss.

My lips tremble, my flesh pebbling as Teos’ shock slowly melts into something darker—something I know all too well.

Anger.

I shake my head, heat pooling in my eyes as I turn and run, ignoring the shout of my name as I go.

SIX

Serafina

“Serafina!”

Teos yells after me as I shove through the crowds, no longer caring if I bump into them or if my magic might scare people. I need to get out of here. Now!

Why is Teos here? He should be in the States with his family! Never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed he would be enrolled at Silverwood.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” I rasp as I shove through groups of students and finally make it off the grass. The building in front of me is large and imposing as I rush forward, running up the stairs as fast as my four-inch heels allow.

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