Page 25 of Too Many Beds

“Speak again on the subject, Mr. Larsen,” Professor Allarie said irritably, “and you’ll be paired with Mr. Whitlock for the rest of the trimester.”

Asher looked at Xem, irrationally pleased to find him already glaring back. His violet eyes shone with murderous intent and his knuckles hissed dangerously with sparks as he casually rolled his wrists where they rested on his desk. No one in theirright mind would risk Xem Whitlock being assigned as their permanent duelling partner, unless they planned on spending life bruised and beaten.

“Very good,” their professor said. She smirked, satisfied her threat had landed. “Now we’ll-”

“I would have thought mages were above animal cruelty,” Asher said loudly. “Clearly, we’re not asadvancedandprogressiveas this Academy likes to claim.”

The room descended into stunned murmurs, and those students closest to Asher suddenly found themselves other places to stand.

“Mr. Whitlock,” hissed Allarie, her lips drawn into a tight line. “It seems Mr. Larsen needs to learn a thing or two about when to hold his tongue.”

“It would be my pleasure to teach him, professor,” Xem responded with a cool cadence, rising gracefully from his chair and gliding over to stand before Asher. Ever the teacher’s pet with his advanced skill and smug diligence, he received a level of respectful reverence from the professors that was rarely shown to other students.

His uniform—the pretentious black Gannon coat, tan breeches, and shiny boots—was as immaculate as always: neatly buttoned, starched and polished, and a clear contrast to Asher’s inability to even keep his shirt tucked in or his suspenders untangled.

Asher squirmed under the intensity of Xem’s gaze. Being this close to the other mage was doing unexpected things to Asher: sending heat through his cheeks and down his neck, hitching his breath, and weakening his legs. He could also feel his cock thickening uncomfortably beneath his breeches. It seemed Xem could breathe life into it with his mere proximity, and Asher desperately hoped it would go unnoticed by the rest of the class.

“The rest of you, pair up,” the professor was saying, although her voice sounded muted like he was hearing it from underwater. In contrast, the small sigh that escaped Xem’s lips as he shifted his weight between his feet was a roar in Asher’s ears.

“I did not realise standing still would pose such difficulty for you,” Xem said dryly.

Asher gave a delighted smile. He didn’t care that the words were drenched in sarcasm, or that he was apparently wriggling so much the mage would bother commenting on it. Because Xem wastalking to him.

He had not been so blessed since the contemptuous dismissal that first day when he’d approached Xem in the Attic.

“And I didn’t realise you’d be so…” Asher trailed off, having enthusiastically begun the retort without an idea of where it was going. “I mean, you…”

Xem snorted. “So is talking in full sentences, it seems.”

That time, Asher flushed with humiliation and ducked his head. Apparently his body had decided what it should do when faced with dauntingly powerful men, and that was to shiver and harden.

“Asher,” Xem said.

Trying but failing to suppress the full body shudder that rippled over him at the sound of his name in Xem’s mouth—and the thought of whatelseof Asher’s he would enjoy having Xem take between his lips—Asher forced himself to lift his chin and meet the intense violet gaze staring back at him.

There was open amusement on the other mage’s face. “You know I’m going to beat you in this duel,” he said. Not as a bluff or a boast, but as an unequivocal statement as emotionless as conveying the time of day.

“Yes,” agreed Asher, equally as certain.

“Then why the fuck are you smiling?”

He was saved from having to reply by Professor Allarie giving them a clipped command to begin. Magic immediately blasted out from the hands of each student in the classroom, from jets of water to waves of fire, but Xem hadn’t moved an inch.

Neither had Asher.

“By all means, recruit,” Xem murmured. “Take the first shot. It’s the only one you’ll get.”

Asher heaved in a breath, raised both hands, and began the somatic movements required to perform elemental magic. Left palm facing down and tipping to an angle towards his right wrist as it rotated anti-clockwise, and then thumb out, tucked in, out again. He was proud of himself when he brought his hands together and his forefingers touched perfectly, fingertip to fingertip, because he’d never achieved such an adept casting before. A flawless icicle flew from his outstretched index finger, three inches long and with a point sharper than an arrow.

It hurtled towards Xem’s unprotected chest. Asher watched in horror, predicting the way it would split his uniform beneath the Academy’s crest, pierce his heart, and blossom blood. How Xem would fall to his knees, eyes wide and accusing, and how Asher wouldfeelin killing his soulmate.

He leapt forward and swept his right hand through the air to dispel the magic. But the hand movement hadn’t been correctly executed, and now there wasn’t time to stop the projectile as it…

…as it dissipated into steam a foot away from Xem.

The mage raised an incredulous eyebrow at him.

“I said you could take a shot,” he drawled. “Not that I’d let it land.” A frown formed on his flawless forehead. “Although why you chose something so dangerous if you truly believed I wouldn’t defend myself is an interesting question.”

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