Page 5 of Spelled By Truth and Tresses

He scoffed. “I’d never be interested in a siren.”

A low, clipped laugh bubbled from my lips. “Says the phantom.”

“Half,” he reminded, then closed the distance between us. “Although, I suppose, so are you. No, my dreams of you weren’t the romantic kind.” His irises darkened, the stare penetrating my soul.

“What were they?” I asked, noticing the corridor was now empty as everyone hurried to their classes, the final dregs of people leaving up the staircase.

“The kind drenched in blood.”

I shook my head. “I barely know you.”

“Yet,” he said, shoving his hand into his sweatpants pocket, “I’m having premonitions about you.”

“You said they were dreams.”

The corner of his lip lifted. “I did.”

I stepped back, but he gripped my arm, holding me in place. “Most would be taken under your spell,” he said, breathing in the air around my hair. “Yet I am immune.”

“Good.” I pushed his arm, but he didn’t budge.

His nostrils flared, his expression warping into something dangerous, and a glimmer of the phantom aura around him. Jax stepped closer, leaving no space between us, then traced the line of my clavicle with his index finger.

I refused to flinch. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

He narrowed his eyes and grinned. My stomach knotted as I noticed we were completely alone now, our voices echoing around us. “We’re all alone,” he stated, echoing my thoughts.

I ignored his attempts to scare me and scoffed. “Whatever dreams you had, they’re not real. I hate blood,” I stated, trying to keep the sourness out of my tone, but controlling my emotions was never my strong suit.

“No. It must be more than that. In every dream, you’re alone, in that tower where that coven died.”

I ran cold, holding my breath as my eyes widened. My heart raced as I tried to step back. He stepped closer and gripped my chin tightly. His hand was so large his fingers dug into the hollows of my cheeks. I jerked my chin away, then crossed my arms over my chest like flimsy armor.

“It doesn’t mean anything,” I lied, but the memories of my own, similar dreams, circled my mind. But there was no way I was about to tell the asshole of the academy that. Especially knowing his phantom side was as unpredictable as my siren powers. If he thought they were real, who knew what he would do, if he thought me a threat? As I looked up at him, he didn’t look convinced. I knew phantoms could see glimpses of the future, but this was different.

His dreams were too similar to mine.

“Perhaps,” he said, not looking convinced. He loosened his grip, then stepped back. He smirked, then slid his hands into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. My eyes were drawn to the substantial bulge pressed against the fabric. “Gods, it’s hard just being close to you,” he said, releasing a heavy sigh. “That darkness inside of you, it calls to me.”

I smirked as the dynamic shifted slightly. “Maybe you’re not as immune as you think.”

He returned the favor and leered at me with a lascivious grin. “It’s not that.”

My breath hitched as I spotted the predatorial gleam in his glare. It’s the same stare I’d seen, from a distance, in previous years. He struggled to contain the powers of his phantom side, wearing his darkness more readily than other part-phantoms who attended. He was looking at me like I was… “I am not prey, Jax.”

He licked his lips. “Good. I could use a challenge.”

“Oh, hell no.” I turned and walked out of the building. I wasn’t going to class, not if it meant being with him for another hour.

Jax caught up to me within seconds, shortening his strides to keep pace with me. “Why did your dad kill himself?”

“Don’t fucking go there,” I warned.

“My dreams started right after.”

I inhaled sharply. “It might not be suicide.”

He arched a dark brow. “We both know that isn’t true. Our kinds, phantoms and sirens, well, it usually ends messy.”

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