Page 47 of Revenge is a Witch

Professor Wraith strides into the room with his usual dramatic flair, his long black cloak billowing behind him as he steps to the front. "Today, class," he begins, his deep voice echoing off the stone walls, "we’ll start by reviewing last week’s topic: Sirens and their spell songs." He pauses, his cold gaze sweeping over the room. "Traditional flying sirens, not the watered-down versions you see on TV, have the ability to cast powerful spell songs, using their voices to influence minds and bend wills." I sit up a little straighter, tuning in. Sirens are fascinating, and I’ve always enjoyed Professor Wraith’s lessons, despite the heavy subject matter. But I can’t stop glancing over at Kyla. She’s sitting in the back, whispering something to her friend Bethany, a smug expression on her face. “And now,” Professor Wraith continues, “before we dive into today’s lesson, a pop quiz on last week’s material. Twenty questions. No talking.”

The room groans collectively, but I smirk. I’m confident about last week’s material—I actually pay attention in class, unlike some people.

As the quiz begins, I keep one eye on the parchment in front of me and one eye on Kyla. She’s too relaxed, leaning back in her seat, her quill barely moving as she glances between Bethanyand another student. My gut tells me she’s up to something, and I’m not about to let her get away with it.

I lean down, my lips barely moving as I whisper, "By thread and light, reveal to me, the magic cast that I can't see. Let power's pulse, the truth unwind, expose the spells and ties that bind."

My fingers flick, sending the faint ripple of magic out toward Kyla, searching for any hidden manipulation of energy.

Nothing happens for a moment, but then—there. I feel it. A pulse of magic, subtle but distinct, coming from Kyla. The magic threads from her and stretches out to… Bethany? My eyes widen slightly as I focus harder.

Kyla is cheating. She’s not just copying off Bethany; she’s using aSight Spell—one that allows her to see through the eyes of her friends. I watch in disbelief as Kyla glances toward a third student—some shifter guy named Jaden—and writes down the exact same answers he’s writing in real-time. It’s like a human relay race, with Kyla sitting back and letting others do the work for her.

I bite my lip, feeling the anger bubbling up inside me. It’s not just the fact that she’s cheating—that’s bad enough—but it’s the smugness. The arrogance. The thought that she can just coast through this class, or any class, without lifting a finger. And here I am, working my ass off.

There’s no way I’m letting her get away with this.

I glance around the classroom, trying to figure out how to disrupt her little operation. If I can break her connection to the others, she’ll be lost. My eyes land on Jaden, who seems to be the one Kyla’s relying on the most. He’s writing furiously, and every time his quill moves, Kyla’s does too. The synchronization is uncanny.

An idea pops into my head—a bit of an old favorite. I smirk, biting my lip to keep from laughing as I slide my notebookcloser. I sketch a small, spiraling symbol in the corner of the page, a coil with jagged edges that represents disruption. In the center, I scribble the nameJaden, my chosen target, right into the spiral.

"By coil and air, with each breath drawn, may your lungs hitch and your nose be torn." I whisper under my breath, keeping my voice low.

The hex is subtle, but it packs a punch. As I finish the spell, I feel the magic shoot from the symbol on my page, latching onto Jaden across the room. It’s just a matter of time before it kicks in.

"Did you say something, Miss Vexx?" The professor startles me.

"N-No, just reading the question back to myself, sorry." I put my head down and pretend to focus. At first, nothing happens. But then, a small twitch of his nose. Then another. And before I know it, Jaden’s sneezing uncontrollably, his whole body jerking with each one. He tries to keep writing, but his sneezes are relentless, and it’s impossible for him to concentrate.

“Ah-choo! Ah-choo!”

The entire class turns to look at him, even Professor Wraith, who frowns. “Mr. Jaden, if you’re unwell, perhaps you should step out until you’ve composed yourself.”

Jaden, still sneezing, nods desperately and bolts from the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

I glance over at Kyla. Her smug expression is gone, replaced with a tight frown. She’s visibly annoyed, her eyes darting around the room as she realizes she’s lost her cheat source. I can almost see the wheels in her head turning, trying to figure out how she’s going to manage without Jaden feeding her answers.

Victory. Sweet, glorious victory.

I sit back in my chair, a small smile playing on my lips. Kyla’s scrambling now, and there’s nothing she can do about it. Asshe scribbles down random guesses, I glance over at Derek, who raises an eyebrow at me. I just shrug innocently, but he knows me too well.

I’m not done yet. Not by a long shot. But for now, this little win is enough to keep me going.

After class, I make sure to pat Jaden twice on the shoulder, releasing him from the sneezing hex with a feigned, "Hope you feel better!" He shoots me a confused glance but doesn’t seem to think much of it. Derek, standing next to me, watches with a smirk as we head down the hall towards lunch.

As we walk, Derek breaks the silence. "I should probably eat somewhere else."

I glance up at him, my brow furrowing in concern. "Why? You’re not avoiding me now, are you?"

He shrugs, but I can see the tension in his shoulders. "Sam asked you not to talk to me, remember? I don’t want to mess things up between you two, especially if she hasn’t done anything wrong."

I sigh. "Derek, it really seems like she has. I just need to be sure before jumping to conclusions."

Before Derek can respond, a voice rings out behind us. "Hey, Zaria!"

Oh, great. Kyla.

Her sharp voice cuts through the crowd like a knife, drawing attention from everyone in the hall. I turn, plastering a smile on my face. "Kyla! What a pleasant surprise. You look great. Did you do something new with your hair?" I glance meaningfully at her now-normal hair, recalling its frizzed-out disaster look from the cheer practice hex incident.

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