Page 22 of Satanic Shadow
The pain I felt when I lied was brutal, but it eased off as soon as Dane vanished.
And now he thinks I want to sleep with him. It was an in-the-moment rush of desire from being pinned beneath him. Nothing more. Nothing less. Dane isn’t ugly, and he’s muscle upon muscle all over. He smells good. His eyes are mesmerizing. And he’s tall. Really tall.
Who wouldn’t want to fuck him while he’s on top of them?
Regardless, he probably thinks I have a crush on him, or that I’m pleased to be partnered with him.
I’m not.
And now I can’t face him.
I saw Dane walking to the canteen this morning for breakfast, and before he could notice me, I barreled into an empty classroom and waited a full hour before going back to my dorm.
How the hell am I going to look him in the eye and touch him for hours for task two? He can barely stand the smell of me, so how will he touch me without a spark of rage that results in me being pinned to something by the wrists or throat?
We’re screwed.
But I refuse to fail.
I pull out my phone and open our messages.
Me: Don’t make this awkward. It must’ve been a glitch in the magic because the last thing I want is to sleep with you. But we need to do task two, and if you mess it up, I’ll knee you in the balls again. Harder. Got it?
Me: I look forward to your one-worded response in two working days.
“What are you smiling at?”
I click my screen off and put away my phone. Flattening my smile, I say, “Nothing.”
During cult studies, I focus on the book in my lap instead of the floating head talking to us about rituals and prophets and ways to be accepted.
Teachers are supposed to be in their mortal forms, just like the students, but I guess some just don’t follow the rules and get away with it. If this were weeks ago, I’d have thrown my book at the head and run from the class screaming, but I guess I’m adjusting.
Usually, Mrs. Dalton takes this class, but she’s not here. Neither is her son.
It’s been four days, and either Dane is still struggling to work his phone, or he’s ignoring me. Either is fine. But that doesn’t explain why he’s been absent from classes. Poor Orsen seems like a lost puppy without his leader.
He isn’t following the rules. We’re supposed to be together for security reasons, so instead of me hunting for him, I’ve kept close to my friends.
Perks of being the son of the headmistress. He thinks he can break rules and not get any form of punishment. I’m dreading the next meeting about it all and having a public shaming.
Although, what I thought would be a week of dealing with Dane’s insufferable self has turned into me being a nervous wreck for a totally different reason.
A deep need to know where he is.
It’s almost consuming me. I’ve been constantly fighting the urge to sneak out of my dorm after hours to hunt for him.
I haven’t.
However, I did have a nightmare last night. Heat. Screams. Fire. A lot of it. Then someone had lifted me from the flames andcarried me to safety as two people I assumed to be my parents had wailed in agony while they burned.
I’d tried to get to them and failed.
And before I’d woken from the dream, green eyes had stared back at me, and there had been so much panic in them, anguish, desperation as the deep voice muttered my name.
Seraphine.
I’d let out a scream and sat up in my bed, covered in sweat. The silhouettes on the walls had just stared back at me.
