Page 58 of Forbidden Magic
“Are we just going to talk?” I steal a glance at the students. They’re all whispering between themselves, their eyes riveted on us.
“What else would you rather be doing?” He asks with a lopsided grin that adds insult to injury.
“Fighting. It’s a duel class.”
He shrugs, hands in his pockets.
If he thinks I won’t strike first, he’s dead wrong. The fire coils in a tight ball, and I hurl it at Cole’s face. He ducks. “You throw like a girl.”
“Fight me, you coward!”
A hand covers my eyes, and my mouth opens in surprise.
Fuck. The one in front of me was an illusion, and the real Cole is standing an inch behind me, his breath hot on my ear.
Too close.
Way too close.
“Ask nicely, and I’ll consider it.” The low baritone of his husky voice resonates like a gong in every fiber of my being. The magic in his words is thick and undeniable.
He motions to our audience, his chin resting against my shoulder. “Deep down, you’re just like them. Everyone wants to be us.”
The tip of his tongue ghosts over my ear. Adrenaline sparks across my nerves, and I spin around, but my brain short-circuits.
Cole twines our fingers, preventing my next fireball from forming, and my arms fall at my sides.
His gaze slides to my lips, and a sly smile blooms on his face, his dimple playing hide-and-seek with the sunlight. The golden rays highlight his marble-white skin, and my eyes widen in horror. Cole Desirys is leaning in to kiss me in front of the whole class.
And I’m going to let him.
My hands are numb, my gaze unfocused, and I can’t move.
He’s got me right where he wants me.
What did Mr. Oz say? Don’t be afraid to use any and all your skills. Why use violence when you can rule by temptation?
At the last second, right when our lips are about to brush, he wraps his hand in my hair, pulling my head back and down a few inches.
“Yield. For your own good.” His breath is fresh and spicy, drugging me like a high-priced, velvety scotch.
“No,” I croak.
His eyes narrow, and he uses his hypnotic voice again. “Then you’llkneelfor your prince.”
“Fuck you.”
White-hot energy spills from his fingers, and my knees soften from the compulsion.
I need to kneel in front of him more than I need to breathe, and my entire body shakes as I resist his command.
My soul is weeping because it yearns to submit. I’m merely a puppet, and all my strings have found their master. The feeling is abject, and bile burns my mouth.
My powers build inside me, and I set a big blast loose. The flames scatter over his shirt, the fabric catching fire.
Cole meets every ounce of it with his shadows, black and red meeting in the middle.
I squint, and Cole does the same.
