Page 97 of Every Shade of Shadow

A dangerous question, but he seems relaxed enough to indulge me. Considering he was reaming out my ass last night, it’s the least he can do.

He nods slowly, finger trailing along the edge of the table. “I’ve been watching you for a long time, my pet.”

I stiffen. “What do you mean ‘watching’?”

“Since you were a child.”

I freeze. “What?” I blurt out, alarm starting to fill me.

A light shrug. “You might say I was tasked with as much, but that is a story for another time. For now, I want you to know I was there.”

“What do you mean?” I can barely get it out.

His gaze narrows, becomes pinpointed. “I was there when that girl pushed you down the stairs in elementary school.”

The panic grows. “She broke her leg the following week. Was that you?”

He gives a light shrug, ignoring the question. “I was there when barely past pubescence you discovered yourself, your fingers shifting under the quilt, face pressed into the pillow.”

The panic becomes all out shock. “You were watching me?”

“Always,” he smiles, twisted and dark. “I was there when you’d bring yet another waste of humanity home, their clumsy fingers an insult, but I never let you come. No, that was for me, little lamb. Me alone.”

I stand, hands on the table, the shock having filled me with a cold, haunting dread. “You were in my fucking head? You’re the reason I could never…”

Come? Climax? How fucking hard is it to say, Ana? I scold myself.

“You were what?” I continue, thinking back to what he said about watching me ‘discover myself,’ the most intimate act of all. “Stalking me this whole time?”

“Protecting you,” he says, voice firmer.

“From what?” I almost shout it.

I see him stiffen back in response. “Careful now.”

“You just told me you were in my head, that you’ve been watching me like stalker. Are you in there now?”

“A precaution.”

What. The. Fuck. “Have you been using something on me, a mind-control spell?”

His silent gaze is my answer.

Holy shit…all this time I thought I was acting of my own free will, but this violation…I can’t reconcile with it. Mind-control spells are strictly forbidden in all levels of magical arcana. Punishable by death.

I reach up to my head, pressing at my skull suddenly furious. “I could go to the Headmistress.”

Without thinking I raise my hand, energy growing.

His placid mood is lost, the calm is his eyes vaporizing as he stands and yanks back his hand. There’s a sudden force on my chest and I’m thrown backwards, smashing against the wall, the chair crushed behind my back, splinters of wood falling with me to the floor.

I open my mouth to speak, to cry out, but it’s locked in position, unable to move. I try to stand, to shift, but nothing’s working. He’s taken away my speech. My tongue cannot form words. My neck muscles will not respond. It’s as if my vocal cords have been severed, like every part of my body has become stone.

The horror that follows is so cold and absolute I pray for unconsciousness, but I sense him in my head, fighting against it.

Picking up a knife from the table, the Professor kicks back his chair and sets off towards me, eyes blazing with anger.

He takes his time approaching me, crouching beside where I remain sagged against the wall. Light reflects off the blade as he lifts it. It disappears from view until I feel the pressure of it against my neck so great a thin line of blood runs down between my breasts.

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