Page 29 of Oleander
Ander pulls his magic back, and the lilac-colored vines that decorate his jawline slowly fade away.
Professor Chastain walks over with a slow clap. “Brilliant work lads. Both of ye.Absolutely marvelous.Oleander, ye pushed past yer fear, and I’m proud of ye. It’s not easy when yer past is shrouded with trauma. Skyler, you’re a natural leader. I’m impressed with yer courage, determination, and patience. We’ll call it a day there. Well done. I’ll inform the headmaster of yer progress.” Professor Chastain grabs his briefcase and disappears around the corner, leaving the two of us alone.
“He’s right. You were amazing, Ander. Embrace your power; don’t be afraid of it. I understand how you’re feeling, and Professor Chastain isn’t the only one who’s proud of you for pushing past the fear. Just know that.”
“Thank you,” he murmurs with a small smile on his lips, that rosy blush returning.
“Practice on me,” I blurt out of nowhere.
Shit. Not subtle at all.
“I mean, I want to help you practice with your poison. My magic will protect me. There’s no risk. Let me help you learn to control it.”
Indecision flickers in his lavender eyes. “I don’t know, Skyler.”
“You can’t hurt me, O. I’m your best option, and you know it.”
Logic wins out in the end, and he finally gives in, accepting my help.
“Okay. . .” He’s hesitant but agreeable, and I can work with that. “I’ve never met anyone so pure-hearted, Skyler Fairfield. You might be one of a kind.”
A stab of guilt twists my insides, souring my stomach and the mood. Regardless of how much I care about him, how attracted to him I am, and how much I want to help him gain control, ultimately, I’m using him for his portal rune.
And that’s shitty.
My stomach gurgles from nerves, but Ander mistakes it for hunger growls. “Are you hungry? I have time to whip up something before my next class if you’re interested?”
“I’m always interested,” I tease, “in food and in you.”
After a midday lunch filled with amazing Fae food, including tiny, plum-filled pies, I’m stuffed and nearly late for my Elemental History class.
“Have a seat, have a seat!” a scary-looking woman with dark hair and green eyes commands, silencing the room full of bustling freshmen. I grab a seat in the back, wanting to disappear unnoticed into the crowd. But of course, she knows there’s a half-human Fae in her class, and she won’t allow anonymity.
“Skyler Fairfield, no hiding. Front and center, now please.” She taps her pointing stick on the desk right in front, and I swallow thickly.
Fuck.
“Now,” she repeats louder, and I hop up, scurrying down the stadium-style steps to the front row and sitting exactly where she tells me.
“Very good. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on anything, now would we?”
I shake my head.
Damn, she’s scary.
“My name is Miss Estrella, and I expect you to pay attention, take notes, and participate. Understood?”
“Yes, Miss Estrella,” I respond evenly.
My new history teacher smiles down at me, pleased by the response. “Good. Now!” She claps her hands together loudly, startling me before spinning around to write on the whiteboard. “Onto this week’s agenda.”
She begins scrawling a list of items we’ll cover this week, and I’m immediately fascinated by the new words.
The Rift.
The Underworld.
Blood Fae.
