by Eva Chase
The moment the idea came to me, my patience fled me. I yanked the skirt of her dress up to her waist and trailed my fingers over her panties. Thankfully, Rory was just as eager. Her hips bucked to meet me, her breath stuttering. The dampness between her legs sent a bolt of desire straight through my groin. My cock strained against my slacks.
As I tugged her panties down, Rory snapped open the top of my fly. If I’d had any doubts about how much she wanted this too, the firm stroke of her hand over my cock would have chased them away. I groaned with the sear of pleasure and claimed her mouth again, catching her cry as my thumb flicked over her clit.
With a heft of my arms and a murmur of magic, I lifted her flush against me. Rory clutched my shoulder and my side, her thighs squeezing against me, but she relaxed when she realized how fully I was supporting her. Her head bowed next to mine as I settled her into just the right position, my hands on the small of her back and her hip, the spell I’d cast steadying her upper body. As I plunged into her, a hot gasp of her breath spilled over my neck.
God, the slick heat of her knocked every other thought from my head. I kissed her jaw, the crook of her shoulder, as we rocked against each other. Every thrust, every giddy sound she made in response, sent pleasure pulsing through my veins. I kept just enough wherewithal to work a few words from my throat.
“I’ve got you. And you’ll always have me.”
Rory turned to seek out my mouth with her lips. I adjusted her angle against me just slightly, and the kiss broke with a moan. My favorite sound. Her fingers curled against the back of my neck, and I thrust into her faster, pulling her tighter against me. It only took a few seconds more before her head tipped back with the shudder of her orgasm.
The clench of her channel around my cock pulled me over the edge with her. I spilled myself inside her with a release that left me groaning and sated. Rory wrapped her legs around me, hugging me to her as if she never intended to let me go either.
As we clung there together in that blissful embrace, a chill that had nothing to do with the weather seeped through my chest.
I’d promised her I’d never let myself be torn from her again. I’d rather die than let that happen. But I couldn’t completely avoid my parents for the next dozen or so years while my mother was still baron and I was only her heir.
As long as she ruled over me and the rest of fearmancer society, how the hell could I be sure of keeping any promise at all?
Chapter Twenty-Five
Rory
Having Connar back should have taken a huge weight off me. But even with the memory of his embrace fresh in my mind, when I woke up the next morning, my stomach knotted.
Too many other things had happened yesterday. I’d tried to push back against the barons’ plans for the Naries and maybe shown too much of my hand. My mother had shown more of her hand than ever before: a willingness to brutally punish me for perceived slights less than two weeks into restoring our relationship.
What would I face if I defied her expectations again? Could I even behave in a way that would make her happy?
While I showered and dressed, my mind crept back to that extended, amplified session in the Desensitization chamber—to the horrific images it had shown me, to my helplessness when I’d tried to resist them, and to the professors who’d come to my rescue.
Professor Viceport had seemed genuinely remorseful about our past interactions and eager to make up for them. If she was around this morning, maybe I should take her up on her offer to talk further. At the very least, she was one of the only people on campus who already knew how my mother had treated me, so I wouldn’t have to worry about how to broach that subject.
I wolfed down a quick breakfast and headed over to Killbrook Hall. The green was already bustling with students heading to the first classes of the day. The sight of the gold pins on several of their collars made my gut twist all over again.
There had to be something the other scions and I could do for them. It just might take time to work around the barons, and I wished we could have protected all of the Naries right now.
When I reached Viceport’s office, another student was just leaving, the professor stepping out behind him. My mentor saw me and paused, her hand still on the door. A shadow of emotion crossed her face. She pushed the door wider.
I hesitated. “If you have something else to get to, it’s okay. I know I’m showing up unannounced.”
“No, it’s not a problem. My other plans can wait.” She motioned me in. “You’ve been waiting much longer for me to really fulfill my role as mentor.”
Once I was inside the office, though, an awkward silence settled between us. I sat in my usual seat, and Viceport paced behind her desk a couple times before sinking into her own chair across from me. She ran her hand through her wispy hair.
“I’m assuming that anything we talk about today won’t be passed on to Baron Bloodstone,” she said, catching my eyes.
I offered a wry but pained smile. “I can’t even tell her about most of the things I’m doing or thinking about. I don’t think keeping one more conversation under wraps should be an issue.”
“All right.” She fell silent again and then dragged in a breath. “I should apologize again. I’ve been unfair to you from the start. I can’t really justify it. There are certain assumptions you learn to make within this community… but you weren’t really from this community. I let my prejudices get ahead of really seeing who you are.”
“Prejudices?” I repeated.
“I…” She trailed off before seeming to gird herself to the conversation. “Your mother and I don’t have the most pleasant history—let’s put it that way. We attended Blood U as students around the same time. I heard things, saw things… I don’t like or trust her, and it makes me nervous having her in place as one of our rulers.”
Her gaze came back to me, and her voice dropped. “You look so much like she did back then. You’re a Bloodstone. You arrived, and everyone was awed, and you appeared to be stirring up all sorts of conflicts. I let that color my opinion of you before I’d even given you a chance.”
“The more I’m getting to know my mother, the more it’s clear to me that there’s very little we agree about,” I had to say.
“Yes. That’s becoming clear to me too.” Viceport rubbed her mouth. “I should have seen it sooner. I kept waiting to catch on to the larger plan behind your activities here, but there really hasn’t been one, has there? You’ve honestly believed in the things you’ve said and done.”
A trace of disbelief still lingered in her tone. I guessed being honestly kind and upfront wasn’t a quality one witnessed very often among fearmancers, let alone the families of the barony.
“I don’t know who I’d be if I’d grown up here like I was supposed to,” I said. “But I was raised by joymancers—good ones, even if some of them have questionable motives too. I spent most of my life seeing magic as something meant to be tied to joy, to be used to help people… Those ideas didn’t just disappear the moment I stepped on campus. I’ve had to adjust some of my views with the things I’ve learned, but I still don’t like seeing anyone purposefully hurt.”
“And because of that, your mother tried to hurt you in the worst way she could.” Viceport shook her head. “I don’t know if I could have done anything to prevent what happened yesterday, but I wish I’d at least offered some real support before it did. You should have felt you could turn to me.”
I ran my fingers over the curved wood at the end of the chair arms and debated my next question. “Would you tell me what happened between you and my mother before? No one I’ve been able to talk openly with even knew her before she was taken prisoner… I haven’t had much frame of reference.”
“That’s fair. I suppose I owe you that much.” Viceport leaned back in her chair, her pale eyes going distant. Her mouth slanted tightly downward before she spoke again.
“It wasn’t really me that anything happened with. I’m a few years younger than yo
ur mother, so we weren’t often in the same circles. But my older sister was the same age as her, and they… did not get along. There were occasional spats in public. Then, in their last year, my sister did something that made your mother furious. I don’t even know what, only that everyone was buzzing about the Bloodstone scion taking offense.”
“Your sister didn’t tell you what it was?” I asked.
“No. We were close, and frankly I was a little annoyed at the time that she wouldn’t explain, but afterward… I realized she might have simply been doing what she could to prevent me from becoming a secondary target.” Viceport’s jaw worked. “Not long after that, there was an incident out at the Casting Grounds. They were arguing again, and it turned into a fight. One of the spells your mother cast crushed my sister’s heart.”
My skin chilled. It took me a moment to find the words. “I’m so sorry.”
Viceport raised her shoulders in a weak shrug. “The few witnesses who’d been present said my sister provoked her, attacked first, that your mother was only defending herself. She had a couple of magical wounds to lend proof to that idea. But the witnesses were all people eager to keep her favor, and my sister wasn’t the type to resort to violence. I’d seen how firmly and viciously your mother enforced her position when she felt anyone had even mildly challenged it.”
I could believe it. I’d experienced that cool callousness in the way Baron Bloodstone had sentenced me to that Desensitization session yesterday. I’d seen how the other older barons reacted to anyone who went against their authority.
“I guess it makes sense that you’d still be carrying some resentment against the Bloodstones, then,” I said.
“I’m not asking you to absolve me,” Viceport said. “I’m a teacher. I should be able to treat my students based on who they are, not their family name. But you asked, and maybe that will at least explain why I struggled.”
“It does.” I found, after everything I’d been through at the hands of the barons and, for a time, their scions, that it made her reaction to me much easier to swallow. “We can put that behind us now, I hope? I won’t hold it against you as long as you don’t hold my family against me anymore?”
For the first time since I’d come in, Viceport managed a small smile. “That sounds more than fair.”
Which meant that maybe we could get started on the helpful side of mentoring right now. I had other questions about my mother that I hadn’t been able to ask anyone before.
“I’m not sure if you would have noticed,” I said tentatively, “but back then, when my mother was here at the school, or afterward, even when she became baron… did she ever seem outright paranoid to you? Not just reacting to things people said or did that she didn’t like, but constantly worried that even her friends might be undermining her or trying to hurt her behind her back, checking for spells and that sort of thing?”
The professor’s brow knit. “Not that I can think of. If anything, she gave me the impression of being overconfident in her ability to handle anything that came at her. She’d have been more inclined to go about her business as if nothing could shake her, waiting until anyone attacked her in a way overt enough to be obvious. Then she’d have that much more excuse to crush them as thoroughly as possible.”
The anxieties I’d seen were probably new, then. How could my mother not be shaken by being imprisoned and drained of her power for nearly two decades? I’d bet she didn’t even fully trust her fellow barons. The trauma had left her permanently suspicious and on edge.
“Thank you,” I said. “That’s useful to know.”
Viceport studied me. “Is there anything else I can do for you right now, in terms of information or guidance or otherwise? I’m sure you understand I’m not in a position to challenge a baron, not without ceasing to be both your mentor and a professor here rather quickly, but I’ll do the best I can behind the scenes.”
The earnestness of the offer eased the last of my nerves. I took a moment to consider the challenges that had come up over the last several months. Tackling most of them would require challenging the barons in turn. But…
“I’ve been wanting to adapt to using casting words rather than literal ones for my spells,” I said. “I think I’m ready, but it doesn’t really come up in class since all the other senior students picked that up in their junior studies. It’d be especially handy if I ever happen to need to cast a spell I’d rather not be totally obvious to those around me.”
Viceport’s smile came back, a little wider this time. “I can certainly help you with that. To begin, I think it’s ideal to have quite a bit of space and no audience, as things can go somewhat wrong when you’re switching over from having the literal meaning to help shape the spell. I believe the Casting Grounds will be free for most of this afternoon. I could meet you there at two?”
I found myself smiling back. “That sounds perfect. Thank you.”
Nothing had really been resolved, but the weight I’d been carrying felt easier to bear as I walked back onto the green. I had more allies than I knew; I had a better idea what I was dealing with when it came to my mother.
I was heading back to the dorms, wondering if I could manage to get all of the guys together for a proper scion meeting now that all five of us were really present, when a broken sound split the air from somewhere above.
I whirled around with a hitch of my pulse. My gaze jerked to the upper reaches of Nightwood Tower.
A figure was leaning out of a window on one of the upper floors—no, not just leaning, climbing onto the ledge. Her legs wobbled and her hair drifted limp around her face. She let out the sound again: a rough sob.
I took in all that in the space of a few seconds. Before I could even process what she was doing, she flung herself from the window.
“No!” The cry lurched out of me automatically. I fumbled for some kind of spell to catch her, to cushion her fall—but she plummeted so fast. I’d only forced out one syllable when her body hit the ground back-first with a sickening crack of bones.
Blood gushed through her pale hair and into the grass. Everyone on the green around me had stopped to stare. My stomach turned, on the verge of expelling the meager breakfast I’d forced down. I clamped down on my nausea and forced myself to step forward, to try to see if I knew her. Had one of the other students compelled her out the window? What the hell—
My thoughts stilled in my head and my feet froze under me when a golden glint reached my eyes. She was wearing a leaf pin—she was one of the Nary students.
Had a spell from one of those terror sessions stuck with her unexpectedly? Had the buried distress overwhelmed her? There was no way to tell, but I had no doubt at all that her death had been caused by the new policy my mother was championing.
Less than two weeks, and it’d already caused one death. How many more were coming?
I turned, wrapping my arms around my belly, and locked gazes with Shelby, who must have just been coming out of Ashgrave Hall when the girl had jumped. Her eyes had gone wide and watery. I opened my mouth, wanting to say something to her—but what could I say?
It was my people who’d done this. My mother who’d encouraged them. And for all I knew, Shelby could be next. Wasn’t she lucky to have me as a friend?
She swayed on her feet and hurried back into the hall as the first professors emerged from the buildings to deal with the growing crowd. My heart wrenched.
I followed her, but only as far as the foyer. There, I stopped and leaned against the wall, resolve searing up through my chest alongside my guilt.
I might not be able to save all the Naries right now, but I would save the one who’d shown me the first kindness I’d received here, the one who wouldn’t still be here at all if it wasn’t for me. I didn’t deserve to be a scion if I couldn’t manage that. I just had to find the right angle…
Inspiration flashed through my mind. I snatched up my phone and tapped a quick text to Malcolm.
When do you have a chunk of free time for
a little field trip? I think I need a persuasion expert.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rory
“You know,” Malcolm said, looking around the ornate lobby of the concert hall, “if all you want is a little persuasion on a Nary, you could have handled that yourself. It doesn’t really take an expert.”
“Then it shouldn’t be any trouble at all for you,” I said, elbowing him. “I’d like this spell to stick as long as possible to make sure everything’s set up by the time he comes out of it. Unless helping me with this is too big a hassle?”
The Nightwood scion held up his hands, giving me his characteristic smirk. I didn’t mind it now that it came with a gleam of affection in his dark eyes. “Not at all. I was just making a statement of fact.” He stepped a little closer—close enough that he could brush a kiss to my temple and say under his breath, “I enjoy knowing that you need me, Glinda.”
I rolled my eyes, but his smooth tone sent a quiver of heat through me all the same. We hadn’t had a chance to repeat the other day’s orgasmic encounter yet, and when he talked like that, it was hard not to wonder how soon we could make it happen again.
Right now, though, I had a life to potentially save—or at least to set on a much better course.
We eased apart as footsteps rapped toward us. The director of one of the most renowned orchestras in the state strode from one of the side halls across the deep red carpeting to meet us. His trim black suit looked somber in the light from the crystal fixtures overhead.
He glanced us over, his expression turning puzzled, maybe because of our age. “I don’t fully understand what this is about,” he started, already shifting his weight back as if to turn away.
Malcolm slipped into his persuasive tone without missing a beat. “There’s a promising new musician you want to hear about. Better than any of the auditions you’ve seen for the new celloist.”
