Page 37 of Forbidden Magic
I yank my hand off the parchment.
“These four are actually the most challenging picks, because they are used in the most potent spells in existence. Mind control, matter transfiguration, elemental mastery, and advanced medicine.”
I gape and check his assessment. My teeth grit together. He’s right.
We go back and forth on which one is the best, but Flynn and Melanie beat us to the punch, the bloody thorn turning red on our list as Miss Deveraux approves their choice.
Cole and I exchange a glance, and he nods.
We need to secure the second-best choice, so I scribble the name on a piece of parchment and hop off my seat. I beat Jeremy to the teacher’s desk, whizzing around his burly frame. Okay, I might have pushed him. A little.
Miss Deveraux’ red-painted lips quirk up. “Demeter’s roots. Nice pick. Now, get started on that first spell.”
Jeremy groans behind me and turns on his heels, heading back to Lydia. I beat him to the punch, and the satisfied arch of Cole’s brow fills me with a misplaced sense of pride.
“Good job getting in front of the wolf.”
I grumble an acknowledgment. I can’t forget that we were at each other’s throats a minute ago. A dozen basic spells associated with our pick are listed on the paper Devereaux handed me, and I peruse the choices thoughtfully.
When I throw the first ingredients into my cauldron, Cole sighs. “You know, we’re supposed to be a team.”
I smack his hand away from my cauldron. “I’ll manage without you, thanks.”
His nostrils flare, and he glares at me like I’ve just slapped his face. I tense up at the violence in his eyes, thinking he might retaliate, but he just grabs a fist of his hair. The legs of his stool screech loudly as he slides away, putting a good foot of space between us.
Good. This way, I can concentrate.
We both work in silence, a fitting job since I chose that exact spell to practice. Five minutes before the class ends, Cole gather his things and walks off without saying goodbye. Good riddance.
“Julia. A word,” Deveraux calls as the students hustle out.
My spine straightens immediately.
“I’ll wait for you,” Lydia mouths silently before slipping out last. I play with the hem of my skirt nervously, waiting for the teacher to speak.
Her red sequinned sash brittle against her thigh. “Your father told me you’re interested in becoming a High Magus.”
“Err—yes.”
She sifts through the stack of papers in her hands. “You won’t succeed.”
“Excuse me?” The last thing I need is another small minded teacher that has it out for mortals. Deveraux is instrumental to my success here, and the weight of her next words might crush me, so I brace myself against the desk, my fingers turning white against the wood.
Her gaze flicks to my hand before she meets mine head on. “With your attitude, failure is unavoidable. High sorcery isn’t for hot-tempered witches. Fire might be your element, but instead of mastering it, you’re letting it govern your life. You got paired up with one of my best student, and you’re too busy bickering with him to realize how much he can teach you.”
My jaw slacks.
“I know he doesn’t come across as a straight-A type, but Cole is a natural. Stop fighting with him. Watch him. Learn. Or you’ll wash out like so many students who thought they were above teamwork.”
My chest pulses with a tinge of shame, but my first instinct is to defend myself. “He’s an ass.”
“He’s a young Fae prince. Of course, he’s an ass. High Magus use their enemies’ weaknesses to their advantage; they don’t whine about it.”
I nod, knowing anything that comes out of my mouth now will only earn me detention.
That damn prince got everyone under his charm, even Miss Deveraux.
I drag out of class. Mr. Oz is standing in the hallway.
