Page 12 of Satanic Shadow
Humming, she continues brushing for the next few minutes, and I continue writing notes for my next class. After vanishing the brush from her hand, she starts to braid Poppy’s hair to her scalp.
She doesn’t continue the subject, so I quickly finish my notes, close my book, and pick up my sandwich. We’re sitting in the food hall. We usually sit in the courtyard, but the weather is bad, so given our short skirts and the fact we have no protection against the rain, we hide in here.
Dane and his group of hooligans are a few tables over, and I can hear Orsen speaking about Mel and how nice her ass is.
In the last twelve hours, he’s sent her ten messages, a video of him showing her his bed, and asked her to her face if she wanted to go for a quick round before class.
He’s ruthless.
“Oh fuck!” Orsen yells, quickly getting to his feet and jumping as water pours from his pants, coming from over his waistband.
Smoke pours from his skin to heat himself up, and he glares up at Mel while she whistles, continuing to do her sister’s hair. He isn’t going to retaliate—he wants her too much to get mad at her. Instead, he chuckles, wipes himself with napkins, and winks at her.
This is a regular occurrence now. The pair are brutal. She’s either torturing him with her powers, or she’s complaining about his dick pics. I think she secretly likes it too. It’s not that Orsen isn’t hot; he is, but he’s a little out there for me. Boisterous, wild, loud. Plus, he’s dead set on having my friend—who just happens to be the total opposite of him. The only thing they have in common is that they seem to enjoy sex. Not the vanilla kind, but the kind that makes me want to put on a chastity belt and claim innocence for the rest of my life.
I can feel Dane’s eyes on me as I put my books into my leather satchel then fold my paperwork to add it to the bag. It’s weird that I can suddenly sense him everywhere. He could walk into the room, and with my back turned, I’d know he was there. It’s like the energy changes around me, but only I can feel it. When he left my room last night, the silhouettes in my walls wouldn’tstop dancing. The shadows shuddered across my floor, and my bed shook when I told them to get a grip.
I don’t look at him as I get to my feet. “I’ll see you both at class? I need to use the bathroom.”
Lie. I need to get away from him.
“Don’t be late. We’re practicing emotional kissing today.”
I groan. “Awesome.”
“Hopefully the professor partners you up!” Poppy yells as I walk away from the table. “And I hope, for your sake, he’s hot!”
Dane’s stare follows me out of the room, and I fight the urge to give him the middle finger like the mature adult I am. An adult who somehow has to study how to be a human for the next year.
I dodge students as I make my way to the bathroom. I lock the cubicle, sit on the pan and relieve myself, then drop my head into my hands. It’s been weeks, and I still haven’t woken up to my work alarm, in my bed, wrapped up in blankets with Toodles pawing at my face.
So many times I’ve talked myself into believing this is a dream—a long, terrible nightmare that I need to wake from.
I pull out my phone, dial “911,” and press it to my ear. But the line is dead. It’s the same when I call my work’s head office, and again when I try to call my old mobile number.
I stupidly click on Dane’s to see if it’s maybe the signal in the bathroom, and it rings.
I freeze and hang up.
Idiot. Absolute idiot.
I clean up, wet my face in the mirror, and ready myself for my next class. The one I’ve been dreading. Because there’s no chance I’ll get away without being partnered up for this one.
When I woke up this morning, I thought my week couldn’t possibly get any worse. Another day in hell, even if I’m one day closer to graduating and getting off this goddamn island.
However, the universe seems to be playing a joke on me. When I make it to my human relations class three minutes late, I try not to look at the two students on the bed in the middle of the room. Fully dressed but groping each other over their clothes.
The professor sits at her desk, arms crossed, appearing bored and more human than anyone else here. At least she doesn’t look like the mortal studies teacher, with a tail sweeping everything off her desk.
“What did I tell you? You need to kiss her with tongue, and stop acting like a statue. I scanned you—you are no virgin.”
He turns a deep shade of red all over, and his partner winces from the heat. He quickly cools down, apologizes to her, and does as he’s told.
“Great!” She stands from her desk chair, leaning over to get a better view. “Yes, good! I can sense the emotional connection strengthening. Trust and comfort are massively important when it comes to intimacy in humans. You cannot go out into their world and expect to be brutes like you are in your own. Humans are delicate and need to be treated as such.”
I groan inwardly and drop my gaze to my lap, to the book hidden in my bag. Reading helps pass time, but the only books here are educational, guides to torture, and spell books. I accidently took one back to my room and read it while I was bored, and now I know how to summon a demon.
The library here is full of strange stuff. The books aren’t even half of it. Safe to say none of them are to my liking, but I’m settled reading a story about crimes committed in the Fire Realm, and I’d rather read about dragon laws than watch two students slowly falling in love with each other. Or whatever it is the professor wants from them.
