Page 121 of Tempest

“No! But you also don’t have orgies with co-eds and drink blood and-—”

“You don’t know what I’m into! You never try to understand! I like orgies, Ardyn, and I love the dark aspect of magic. It’s as important to me as the light, and if you tried to understand anything about me rather than retreat into your hidey-hole of deniability—”

I suck in a hurt gasp.

“—then maybe you’d figure out I’m perfect for that man in there.”

“You’re not.” I shake my head, horror coating my words. “You’re so much better than him.”

“And you’re no better than the townspeople who ripped out the Andertons’ tongues and chopped off their fingers before hanging them.”

My mouth drops open. “Clover. You did not just compare me to a rabid mob. And those women—”

“Witches.”

“Those witches,” I amend, “committed murder themselves. They were serial killers and were caught.”

“So they deserved torture? What if I told you their victims were scum? That they were doing their town a favor by getting rid of pedophiles, abusers, killers of innocents?”

“I am not getting into moral code with you.”

Because you’re a hypocrite, I chastise myself. If I can stay silent over Tempest’s behavior, how can I possibly argue against the Andertons’ choices?

“You also don’t get to decide who I crush on. I like Professor Morgan, I love the rumors that he hooks up with students, and I can’t wait to see him naked!”

Her voice turns so shrill that I wince, her stubbornness smacking into me like bullets.

I open my mouth to return the favor when someone clears their throat behind Clover.

Stepping out from in front of her, I notice who it is. My shoulders slump.

“Excuse me, ladies. Everything all right?”

Morgan leans out of his classroom, his mouth curved in concern, but his eyes glinting with what he overheard.

Clover cuts her eyes from me and twists on her feet to face him.

“We’re doing terrific, Professor. Thanks for asking,” she says. “I’m taking Ardyn to our room now.”

“Good,” he says, a slow grin creeping along his face. “I’d hate to have such an interesting project derailed by a fight over a … boy.”

“Not at all, Professor.” Clover gives him her best smile, disarming and beautiful. “Just friendly concern over here.”

“Okay, then.” After a brief nod and a lingering study of Clover, he dips back inside.

“Shit,” I mutter.

“Your shit,” Clover snaps. “Not mine.”

She swings her arm through mine and pulls us to the exit.

I let her and deliberately stop engaging in conversation.

Because I know what my next steps are. What I have to do.

I have to let Tempest know about Professor Morgan’s interest in Clover.

We have to protect her from becoming like me.

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