Page 49 of Forbidden Magic
Trent leaps forward and throws a right hook at Flynn’s jaw. The desk slides a few feet in my direction, and I jump to my feet, retreating towards the wall. Trent throws another punch, his biceps straining. The Fae ducks out of reach, but the vampire circles him, fast as lightning. The commotion of their two swift, muscular bodies creates an empty circle around them as everyone tries to stay out of the fray.
Inching backwards, I collide with Cole’s chest. My breathing hitches, and I rush forward to correct my mistake, but his hand grips my hip. His steel grasp holds me out of harm’s way when Flynn all but collapses into my stool. A flash of blond hair and a trail of blood whirl into my vision, inches from my face.
Trent’s nostrils are huge, his chest rising and falling quickly, his muscles bunched. The sinister look on his face makes me gulp, and I pray never to be on the receiving end of his anger. His red eyes are all but spurting fire as he lands another kick in the middle of Flynn’s chest.
The cocky Fae falls to his ass, laughing, his mouth bloody and his palms raised in surrender.
Cole’s hand dips lower and settles against my thigh, right below the hem of my skirt. I want to move or shove him off, but my head is spinning.
Deveraux’s eyes are murderous. A force field shimmers in the air between the two brawlers, and when Trent goes for Flynn again, the vampire ends up on the floor too like he was just tased with a high voltage stun gun.
Deveraux taps her gold sequin heel against the floor. “Mr. Darkwood, report to the headmistress’ office. Physical violence is not tolerated in my class.”
“Whatever.” Trent spits at Flynn and storms out.
“You too Flynn. I warned you about the language,” she adds.
“Alright.” Flynn peels himself off the floor and winks at me before heading out.
Arms crossed over my chest, I skirt around the broken stool and away from Cole.
The class returns to Melanie’s spell, but my ears are buzzing. I can still feel each of Cole’s fingers pressing against my thigh, and I’m still not wearing underwear. All the righteous humiliation from before mixes with the weird, smothering heat that snaked around me as surely as his hand did. I’m fighting for breath, perched on my stool. A pulse lances between my legs, and I can’t find a comfortable position.
When Deveraux excuses us, I bolt out of the classroom. There’s a bathroom directly in the corner, and I disappear into the first stall, sitting atop the closed lid and forcing my sweaty hands to stay on my knees.
The water turns on. I peek through the crack next to the bolt to see Melanie washing her hands at the sink.
“Damn Trent had to be the hero again,” she sighs.
“He stood up for you.” I wrangle the underwear from my pocket past my flats, pulling it on like armor before joining her in front of the row of mirrors.
Droplets of water fly into the air as she shakes her hands, the paper dispenser empty. “All the good that does us.”
“Why do you sleep with Flynn? He’s an ass.” My judgment comes off even worse in the face of my body’s reaction to Cole’s proximity.
Melanie tilts her head to the side, her eyes drilling holes into mine like she’s hesitating between calling me out on my hypocrisy and answering my question. “He’s not so bad. Besides, all the boys in this school are beasts. I prefer one with its claws on display instead of the ones that masquerade as sheep. It keeps it real.”
My crotch starts to itch, an unfamiliar, painful burn that’s got nothing to do with arousal, and my heart sinks. I’m such a naive girl.
I tear the underwear off and dump it into the nearest trashcan, but it’s too late.
“Property of Cole Desirys” is etched into my skin, the words written over and over in small red calligraphy. My ass, sides, and upper thighs are literally branded with his name.
Melanie arches a brow at my tantrum, and I inch the fabric of my skirt down to show her my hipbone.
She bends over, her uncontrollable giggles scratching my ears before she wipes the tears from her eyes. “He got you good. You can get back at him on Thursday.”
“Flynn or Cole?” There’s no way to know which one is responsible for those marks. Flynn is the one who had my underwear the longest, but it’s Cole’s name that’s etched into my flesh.
Melanie waves dismissively. “Flynn probably put Cole up to it. He’s utterly obsessed with him. It’s not about you, don’t worry. You’re fresh meat, and those two love to sample the female menu and fight for first pick. They love to compete.”
The words are breezy, but her face is tense, and I wonder if she might feel more for Flynn than she lets on. Despite her laughter, she doesn’t look pleased by this stunt one bit, and I detect a hint of steel in her voice.
19
Best Laid Plans
“Iamnotgoing with you to a slumber party. Besides, I’m supposed to study tonight,” I say.
