Page 3 of Group Studies

Ashe banged on the door again, and Professor Garnet’s gaze snapped to my face.

“Aphy, the entire point of this was to gain control. Not transfer into Saff,” he frowned and disappointment twisted my gut. “You’re going backward. You cannot do this to yourself. If you’re to survive in the real world, you must fit into one of its boxes and stop transferring.”

Professor Garnet’s words forced away my euphoria. I bit my lower lip, studying the floor.

The professor took a step toward me but didn’t touch me. “I didn’t like forcing myself to fit in either,” he breathed. “But you can’t give into the darkness even if it makes you happy.”

My heart squeezed.

Saffron took another step away from me and wiggled his fingers in a uniformed pattern. A ball of banana yellow power appeared in his palm. He narrowed his eyes at it, and the ball expanded to the size of his head. Grinning, he looked from the ball to me like I was some mythological creature.

I took a sharp breath, noticing my bloody handprints covering his chest and arms.

The clasps melted the skin of my wrists. I’d trailed streaks of dark red liquid across his chest. A handprint covered one of his eyes and dragged into his power-sparking hair.

He looked like a fallen version of the Greek God I always called him.

Something evil.

I did that to him. And I’d enjoyed every second of it.

Professor Garnet reached for me, but even knowing he wouldn’t make skin contact, I flinched away, fleeing to the washroom.

My bloody hands turned the water in the deep metal sink red. Pink, angry skin still puckered around the clasps. I forced myself to take deep breaths and looked at the short-haired brunette in the mirror—someone I didn’t recognize.

Although still thin, a layer of fat and muscle hid my bone structure. My small breasts gained a cup size, and my pale skin shown a touch of color, just enough to make me look healthy. The clear rimming around my eyes almost sparkled like a Diamond, though no one knew what it meant. The buzzed half of my head looked shaggy, and big chunks of my Viking braids on the other side had mostly fallen out from my active evening.

“I’m setting your clothing inside the door,” Professor Garnet said as he opened the washroom. “Do whatever you need to, but Ashe is waiting. Aphy, we’ll figure this out. I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He placed my clothing on a chair like it was glass. “I want you safe and in control of your own magic.”

I hit the handle on the faucet and turned. My vision of evil Saffron haunting my thoughts. “I don’t want to take away people's free will. Saffron doesn’t even like me.”

“He does,” Professor Garnet said, his deep voice earnest.

He let himself in and placed my uniform where he said he would. In four powerful strides, he wrapped me in his long arms and kissed my forehead. My magic reached for him, even though I’d just transferred.

My heart wrenched as I pulled away.

Professor Garnet shifted forward and backward, before shuffling away from me, his fists lightly balled. “We’ll figure this out. You’ll fit in.”

He stepped into the cold industrial shower, taking up half the washroom and turned it on. The blood covering my stomach caught my eye, making a chill run down my spine. I desperately wanted to fit in, but more importantly, I needed to find a way to siphon off my magic before it exploded into someone not of my choosing.

Chapter 2

“A, fucking stop,” Ashe said for the third time as I all but ran down the wide gray hall.

He reached out and took hold of my arm forcing me to come to a halt. A few students glanced at us. The sound of a phone taking a picture haunted my existence. Though, admittedly it had calmed down in the last few weeks.

Ashe towered over me. A bear of a man, his chest and arms strained against the blue button down shirt all students wore. His long neatly trimmed duck beard swallowed his downturned mouth as he dropped my arm.

I tried to pull up my hood or tug on my braid. But both were gone. Everything was gone. Even the precious control Damon drilled into me was gone. Halfway through crossing my arms over my chest, I stopped. It didn’t feel right either. Nothing felt right.

Ashe stood, watching me with varying degrees of worry under his bushy eyebrows. In the end, I rubbed my arms and studied the floor.

“Did they hurt you?” Ashe asked quietly but firmly.

When I didn’t answer, he cupped both sides of my face in his calloused palms, forcing me to meet his unrimmed gaze.

Blood rushed to my cheeks as I remembered my hoping he would break down the door and join us.

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