Page 158 of Wicked Heirs

So, when he launched his third attack, I stilled, watching as they headed straight for me.

And then I did it, unleashing my golden magic from my epicenter—the heart of my power.

It surged forth like a tidal wave, rushing toward the missiles, then disintegrating them upon contact and continuing on until the wave hit Orpheus and blew him back so powerfully that he spun away in the air.

I made sure he got his bearings and didn’t actually fall out of the air, then watched as he flew back with rapid speed.

“Holy. Mother. Fuck,” he exclaimed and I grinned from ear-to-ear at the stunned and majorly impressed look all over his face.

That’s right, Dark Prince.

You’ve finally met your match.

“That was hot as all fuck,”Orpheus exclaimed as we both touched down back on the roof and folded our wings, them dematerializing in the next moment.

Before I could even respond, he was there, shoving me against one of the turrets, and then his mouth was crashing down on mine.

The rush from the battle combined with the need that had built over the last few days of not being physical with any of my men, and the seductiveness of Orpheus all on his own, took me over and I was responding aggressively the moment his lips touched mine.

I pulled at his stark white and black hair, then drove deeper and dug my nails into his scalp, earning a delightful hiss from him and a rough roll of his hips.

“What you do to me, little angel… hell,” he groaned, pulling back to reach for his belt with one hand, while the other snaked up and under my denim skirt.

Anticipation thrummed hot in my veins.

I was literally panting with the need he’d awakened in me.

He leaned in again and slicked his tongue over my throat, making me throw my head back at the delectable, spine-tingling sensations he was eliciting. “Shit, Orpheus.Yes.”

He had his belt undone in the next moment and his pants open. The fingers of his other hand reached the apex of my thighs, about to brush over my panties.

He went to pull his cock out.

And then a rush of foreign magic pulsed through the area.

I gasped and Orpheus stilled as Professor Edgar Marlowe suddenly materialized from a green cloud of teleportation.

Orpheus removed his hand from underneath my skirt and sweetly patted it down, fixing it. “Motherfuck, Professor,” he grunted as he kissed my cheek, then turned around and did up his pants. “Your timing is atrocious.”

Professor Marlowe pinched the bridge of his nose. “Believe me, it’s not something I’m happy about bearing witness to.”

Before the uncomfortableness could wash over us fully, Orpheus stepped forward and asked, “What had you teleporting in without any warning?”

“I’ve been searching for you everywhere. I had to employ a tracking spell in the end, likely meaning you have an illusion up somewhere near. To hide what, I don’t want to know.”

“You don’t?” I asked, wondering why he wouldn’t push to find out.

I was getting a bad feeling, a very bad feeling. What was going on?

“Other things matter more currently.”

“What things?” Orpheus asked, looking at me, before focusing on Professor Marlowe.

“The dean needs to see you immediately.”

My gut twisted. Did they know? Had the Academy found out about what we were planning regarding Saryan Hart and the acolytes?

Fortunately, Orpheus kept his cool and his stoic self was out in full force as he asked calmly, “Concerning?”

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