21

You know those lame kind of nightmares where you’re standing in front of a crowd, completely butt naked while they howl with laughter at your embarrassment? It’s a stupid nightmare, but it still jolts you awake panic-stricken and crying.

Now, take that dream and replace the crowd with Kaz. Only he isn’t howling with laughter but rather shrinking me with his gaze, which makes me think that standing naked in front of a crowd is better than what he has in store for me.

Dinah stands quietly on my left, her bottom lip slightly pouty as she attempts to appear traumatized. The hair at her temple is still smouldering after my fire ball singed them. It’s not that noticeable, she can easily cover it up with a headband or something. Truth be told, if I wasn’t such a optimistic and naturally good person, I would’ve hoped that all her hair got burned off.

I hate bullies no matter what size, age, and appearance they take.

“What was that, huh?” Kaz begins his lecture, shifting his gaze between Dinah and me, although I feel like he’s focusing on me more. “What is the third rule of Alcove?”

I keep my mouth shut. How should I know what the rules of this place are?

As expected, Dinah doesn’t hesitate to answer the question, “Any harmful spells or hexes directed at faculty members or fellow Acolytes will result in the caster’s immediate expulsion, Professor.” She sends me a side glance that can only mean one thing: your ass is getting expelled.

Anger boils within me, and I feel my palm tingling as a spell begins to pool in it. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to aim at her and show her what a real ‘attack’ looks like. Instead, I grit my teeth and clench my hand, dousing the spell before it can grow.

“Correct, Miss Delvaux,” Kaz continues, leaning forward and splaying his hands on his desk. “And once you’re expelled, not only are you banned from Alcove for eternity, but no other magical academy will ever accept you as a student. Count your blessings, Miss Delvaux. I’m letting you off with a warning – you have your father to thank for that. Now go before I change my mind.”

Dinah nods rapidly and turns around, rushing out of the classroom without so much as sparing me a glance. But that doesn’t mean I don’t feel her malice as she passes me. I have just become her prime target. Not only did I ‘steal’ Gilbert from her, but now she has this to pin on me whenever I step out of line. She’ll make sure the entire academy knows me as the girl who brutally attacked her out of nowhere.

But that is the least of my worries now as I stand facing Kaz alone, not ready at all to become the object of his wrath.

I shiver under his gaze, again wondering if he’s ever melted his shades before with the burning intensity of his glare. I swear he can stare a person to a slow, painful death.

“You are quickly becoming a thorn in my side, you know that?” His jaw clenches as he straightens up. “Have you any idea what strings I had to pull to have the Dean of Admission accept your letter of recommendation? If there is anything I despise more than being undermined by those below me, it’s to be in someone’s debt.”

“I wasn’t my fault,” I defend myself, keeping my tone low and even. “You didn’t hear what she said about me, about my…never mind.”

In that moment, I completely forgot to address him as my superior, and he definitely noticed.

“Remember who you are talking to, Miss Myrwell. You are to address me as –”

“Oh, for the love of Magnus, can we for one minute stop pretending and just talk like normal people?!” The surge of emotions that tore through me had me forgetting the role we both were playing. “We both know I’ll be gone by the end of the month. I’m not an Acolyte and you’re not my professor. But what I am is falsely blamed and I will not stand for it. Dinah badmouthed me and made me lose focus. I didn’t attack her. But to be honest, if I would do it on purpose, I wouldn’t have missed.”

I’m not going to lie; I feel a lot better after that outburst. It’s about time that I stand up for myself. Deep down, I know that I’m just as talented and powerful as every other Acolyte in Alcove, I’m just not allowed to show it in the way I want. I could’ve easily cast that fire spell without the ingredients, without an incantation even. And despite the term ‘wild’ magic, I’ve never lost control of mine once.

In fact, I do believe the method Alcove teaches its students to wield magic is what made me lose control in the first place – Dinah only added fuel to it. My magic shouldn’t be limited to recipe-like spell casting. It’s meant to flow through me freely and express itself through my emotions. What happened earlier was me growing frustrated with Dinah and showing it with my magic.

Kaz’s silence, however, worries me. And since I’ve gotten my frustration out of my system, I suddenly realized that not only did I interrupt him, but I also basically yelled at him. Combined with ‘attacking’ Dinah, this probably doesn’t look good on my record.

The next thing I know, Kaz’s hand shot out like a striking viper, and latches onto my tie. With a harsh pull, I’m yanked forward, catching myself just in time by splaying my hands on his desk.

My heart had missed several beats, but now pounds heavily in my ears. Looking up, I find that our faces are a mere breath away from each other. So close, that if I stuck out my tongue, I could flick it over his upper lip…

“Right now, Miss Myrwell, I am the only thing keeping you at this academy.” Kaz’s voice is dark and even, his breath fanning over my lips as he speaks. “But I promise you, that can change with a mere snap of my fingers. Consider this your last warning: play your part and address me with respect.”

His grip on my tie tightens, my breath hitching when it threatens to cut off my air supply. But out of nowhere, while sharing his air and drowning in his scent, I’m hit with a vision I’ve become all too familiar with.

*Breathing is nothing but a fleeting afterthought as I stare down at the man between my legs, his face hidden from view as he drags his lips up my inner thigh. As it happens each time we find each other, he hooks my leg over his shoulder, a long-fingered hand pressing down on my abdomen to keep me still*.

*“Syl,” he speaks my name in a whisper, the sound of it alone making me flood with more desire*.

*I can’t see his face, but I know if I did, I’ll see the lust swim in his eyes as it does in mine*.

*“Please,” I whimper, raking my fingers through his messy locks, trying to tilt his head just enough so I can see his face, his eyes. But my grip is too withering with want, and I end up begging him instead, “Please, I need you.*”

The memory of my recuring dream ends as abruptly as the hold on my tie disappears. I jerk backwards without Kaz holding me in place, inhaling sharply for air to fill my lungs. Looking up, I half expect him to continue his lecture…but find him gaping at me, horrified, instead.

For a fleeting moment, all I can do is hold his gaze and wait for him to respond first. But for some reason, he looks at confused as I feel. Did he…experience that too? My vision?

As soon as that thought crosses my mind, I shake it off. Nope, impossible. It’s a dream, and two people can’t share the same dream. Unless he can read minds…

I suddenly feel sick. Please don’t let him be able to read minds.

Fortunately, Kaz composes himself almost as quick as he let me go. Straightening up and smoothing out his blazer, he avoids looking at me as he speaks, “Watch yourself, Myrwell. And you’re to serve detention for a week. I believe stacking bookshelves in the library after dinner is a suitable punishment.”

Swallowing dryly, I nod, forcing out a verbal response, “Yes, sir.”

“And I expect to see results in your research of the blight after class.”

Our extracurriculars. Of course.

Again, I say, “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Only then, does he look me in the eyes. “You are dismissed.”

I hold his gaze perhaps a bit defiantly. However, something stirs in my stomach as images of the dream circle my memory. Something about him triggered them, and now that familiar feeling he instilled upon our first meeting, is back.

So, it’s with a hint of subtle coyness that I finally say, “Yes, *sir*.”