Page 42 of Wicked Chains
"Harry saw everything," Harry confirms with a leer. "Harry thinks the charity case gets around."
Something inside me snaps. I call up my magic, feeling a rush surge through me from the ground, up through my legs and feet, and into my hands. The grass at Thorne's feet turns brown and tinder-dry, then bursts into flames. She shrieks, stumbling backward into Harry, who catches her with a grunt.
"What the fuck!" Thorne yells, kicking an ember on her shoe.
I stare at what I've done, a mix of satisfaction and horror washing through me. I didn't mean to do that. I didn't even know I could do that. Well, that’s not completely true. I actually did mean to do it, I just didn’t know it would work.
Harry helps Thorne put out the little sparks clinging to her socks.
"You crazy bitch," Thorne hisses, her pretty face twisted with rage. "You're going to pay for this. Wait until Headmistress Wickersly hears that you attacked me with magic outside of class."
My stomach drops. Helena Wickersly would love nothing more than an excuse to make my life even more miserable.
"You started it," I say, but my voice lacks conviction. We both know it doesn't matter. In this place, power and privilege always win. Also, setting someone on fire is probably considered worse than bitchy words, honestly.
Thorne smooths her hair, her composure returning now that she has the upper hand again. "I'm a Hawthorne. My father is one of the academy's biggest benefactors. You're nothing but a whore who?—"
"Is there a problem here?"
The cultured, clipped voice cuts through the air, sliding between me and Thorne. Lucien walks up beside us, appearing so suddenly that Harry actually jumps.
Thorne's expression shifts instantly, a sweet smile replacing her sneer. "Lucien! No problem at all. Just chatting with Rose here about Family Day preparations."
"Indeed." Lucien's crimson eyes flick from Thorne to Harry to me. "It sounded less like chatting and more like harassment, Miss Hawthorne."
"She attacked me," Thorne says venomously, pointing at the scorched earth around her feet. "Used magic against me for no reason."
"No reason?" Lucien repeats, one eyebrow arching elegantly. "I find that difficult to believe. Miss Smith may be many things, but she is rarely unprovoked."
Harry shifts uncomfortably. "Harry thinks we should go."
"You know what, Harry? I think that's an excellent idea." Lucien's voice remains perfectly pleasant, but there's a dangerous edge to it now. "Before I feel compelled to inform Headmistress Wickersly about certain extracurricular activities taking place in the woods after curfew. I believe there was quite the gathering last weekend. Alcohol, substances of questionable legality, a lengthy and noisy little orgy… "
The color drains from Thorne's face. "You wouldn't."
"I assure you, Miss Hawthorne, I would. I imagine your father would be quite interested to hear about your rather salacious social life."
Harry's eyes widen. "Harry didn't know about that."
"Shut up, Harry," Thorne snaps.
"So," Lucien continues smoothly, "I suggest you both return and forget this little incident ever happened. Unless you'd prefer to escalate matters?"
Thorne's eyes narrow to slits. "Fine. But you should be careful, Lucien. People are noticing how much special attention you give to our little Rose here. It would be a shame if Helena found out about your inappropriate relationship with a student.”
"Is that a threat, Miss Hawthorne?" Lucien asks, his voice dropping several degrees.
"Just an observation." Thorne tosses her hair over her shoulder. "Come on, Harry. I need fresh air. It stinks here."
As they walk away, Thorne throws one last sneering glance over her shoulder. "Watch your back, Charity."
I stand there, arms crossed tightly over my chest. I’m relieved that Helena won't be informed about my magical outburst, but I’m annoyed that Lucien stepped in, and worried about Thorne's parting threat.
"I didn't need your help," I say once Thorne and Harry are out of earshot.
"Clearly," Lucien replies dryly, glancing at the charred grass. "You had the situation completely under control."
"I could have handled it." I kick at the ground, trying to scuff away the evidence.
