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Sinful Biker

Page 57

by Terri Lane


  “Well I’m proud of you too, and Edna would be as well.” Aron knew that I still liked to remember Edna, even though it had been a long time since she passed. She touched me and affected me in ways that no one else ever would. She was special to me, and would always be in my mind somewhere. “I bet she’s looking down on you now, thinking how well you’ve done.”

  “I doubt it! I bet she’s spending time with her husband again, she missed him too much after he died…what are you doing?” I suddenly trailed off as I noticed that Aron was no longer standing next to me, but he was on the floor instead.

  On one knee.

  Holding out a small jewelry box.

  Oh. My. God.

  “Speaking of husbands…” he announced with that wonderfully wicked smile of his. “I think it’s time that you made me yours. You already know that I love you and that I’d do anything for you, and I hope I show you how happy you make me every single day. I want to make it official, I want to world to know that I’m yours.”

  I could barely breathe, this was all so unexpected. One minute we were just having a normal conversation, and now he was asking me to marry him? He was insane!

  Then again, his spontaneous nature was one of the things that I loved about him.

  “So, will you do me the most wonderful honor of being my wife?”

  “You’re insane,” I gasped with tear flooded eyes. “I don’t even know what to say.”

  “Well, I’m sort of hoping that one of the words you’ll say will be yes,” he chuckled, but there was a definite awkwardness there. “That would be ideal.”

  “Yes, you idiot! Of course, yes!”

  As he jumped up and he scooped me up into his arms, I felt my heart thunder in my chest. Dr. Turner was the man who could never be mine, who was always at arms-length, but now Aron was forever mine and all I wanted to do was weep.

  “I love you, so much,” I gasped, while crashing my lips into his for a second.

  “I love you too, even if you did call me an idiot after I proposed,” Aron smirked back. “And I’m glad to be yours forever because you honestly are the best person I’ve ever known.”

  A happy ever after for me, who would’ve ever thought it?

  THE END

  = Bonus Book 8 of 20 =

  Mated To Twin Dragon Princes

  Nessa walked down the long, blue, tiled hallway, her heels clicking as she went. She glanced out of the arched window beside her. It was a beautiful day outside—the perfectly manicured landscaping of the university’s lawns was breathtaking—obviously kept up using magic. There were perfectly sculpted box trees tucked in tiny rounded mounds beneath the windows of the buildings, and several large, ancient oak trees that shaded the lawns. The grass was verdant, neatly trimmed. Rose bushes were planted in the perfect places to add that little splash of lush crimson between the enormous stone buildings. It always made her feel like she was in a fairytale castle—the university seemed to be the stuff of myth, brought to life.

  For a moment, she stood, watching students walking quickly, trying to make it in time to their classes. They were dressed casually in jeans and tshirts, sneakers and flip flops. Oddly enough, they were the ones who seemed out of place. The people for whom this whole place was kept broke its atmosphere.

  She ran a hand over her hair and cursed herself for doing so. She’d spent quite a while curling it earlier, even if it had been done using magic. She wasn’t usually one to get ruffled. She felt confident, but nervous—today was her first lecture on the basics of magic. She was one of the university’s top students, and soon, she would qualify for a professorship. It was long waited-for and well-deserved. All of her hard work, all of her years of hitting the books and practicing her skill—at last, she would have the so coveted position.

  She tugged anxiously on the sleek, fitted pencil skirt of her suit. She wore a matching crimson blazer with a crisp, white oxford shirt. She wore a pair of black stiletto heels. Her hair was styled in blonde beachy waves that fell around her shoulders. She wore a light amount of makeup: liquid black eyeliner, mascara, a dusting of foundation and crimson lipstick. She had spent a long time getting dressed this morning. She had wanted to look professional, yet young and exciting. After all, she was only twenty-seven, and decades younger than her soon-to-be colleagues. Typically, it took ages for someone to qualify for a professorship. It took decades and decades of hard work and preparation. Nessa was a genius—it had all come early.

  At the tender age of four, she had performed her first successful transfiguration. By the age of ten, she was pulling off complex spell work, things that her mother claimed had taken years to perfect. Her parents had always been proud of her—showing her off to their friends and coworkers. She had been the perfect party entertainment—she would dazzle those gathered with her most recent spell, whether it be glass butterflies, conjured out of the air, or real cotton-candy clouds. She had never failed to impress. She had been both skilled and creative. As soon as she had reached the college, she had continued to wow.

  She paused outside of the door to the lecture hall. She could hear the students inside. They were all freshmen, just arrived at the university in order to begin their magical education. Nessa had arrived early—she had only been fifteen. It had been right after her parents had been killed in an accident. She remembered, for a moment, that first day there. She had sat, horribly nervous and terribly miserable, in her seat in the lecture hall. She had been dressed like any fifteen-year-old, in a t-shirt and sweatpants, trying to blend in with the older college-aged crowd. She looked and felt like a kid. She exhaled. She was a far cry from her fifteen-year-old self. She smiled, letting her confidence fill her.

  She opened the door to the lecture hall, and as she entered, the room went silent. Her students all looked at her with interest. She looked at each one of them, smiling at them warmly.

  “Good morning, I am Nessa Kant,” she said, walking up to the lectern at the front of the large, oak-paneled room. It was filled with desks from wall to wall, and it had a soft maroon carpet. Large, arched windows were set in the walls behind the students.

  She looked around at each of her students in turn. Somewhere around thirty young faces gazed back at her eagerly. Her eyes fell on the man sitting in the front row, to the very left. Nessa frowned. He was clearly a decade older than the others. He grinned at her. She smiled back and nodded. Perhaps he’s an older student? She thought. She had been prepared to teach people younger than she was. She hadn’t expected older learners. He might even be older than I am. She hoped that he wouldn’t give her any trouble. Some people in the faculty were offended by her younger age. They teased her about being the same age as her students. She’d laughed it off, saying that she was at least a decade older than most of the freshmen. This, clearly, changed things. She’d never hear the end of it if any of them found out.

  “Today, I thought we’d begin by discussing the foundations of magic,” she began, figuring that by jumping right in, she’d get right onto familiar territory. Cut the nerves in half with a sword blade. “Magic is rooted in the four elements. Does anyone know the four elements?” she glanced around. The older student raised his hand immediately.

  “Yes?” Nessa asked, glancing over at him. He smiled at her. Damn. He was gorgeous. He had the chiseled good looks that Nessa was particularly attracted to. She tried to ignore it. He was her student for goodness’ sakes! His bright blue eyes shone. Ugh.

  “Fire, water, air, earth,” he said. “Although I believe you are missing one.”

  “Oh?” Nessa’ smile fell.

  “The spirit,” he pointed out.

  “Spirit has long been debated,” Nessa replied. “It cannot be harnessed unless by a Necromancer. It is forbidden to manipulate spirit magic without proper training.”

  “So then, it is, arguably, the fifth element,” he said.

  “Arguably,” she admitted. “I cannot teach it in a beginning class, however.”

  “Have you ever work
ed with it?” He asked, arching an eyebrow. Oh, how irksome! She couldn’t admit to it without forfeiting her position!

  “It is forbidden,” she replied, shooting him a frosty look. He sat back in his seat, biting his pencil. She looked out among her other students, who were watching with interest.

  “Why is it forbidden?” A girl asked, raising her hand as she spoke.

  “There are laws which govern magic, as you well know,” Nessa replied, choosing not to address her impertinence. “Spirit magic has been forbidden since the rise of the Death’s Head Necromancer in 1882. He dabbled in magic which he could not contain. It overcame him slowly, eventually possessing him. It claimed many lives until he was finally bound to the spirit realm by Arcturus Spot in 1887. By royal decree, spirit magic was declared illegal that same year.

  “Spirit magic is very dangerous. It is not to be trifled with.” As she said it, she felt the urge to try it herself. Was she not a genius? Was she not one of the strongest practitioners that the university had seen in ages? She didn’t think that she was a Necromancer, but then, Spot hadn’t been, either, and he had manipulated spirit magic in order to bind the Necromancer. She smiled at all of her students as she focused on the elemental magics which could be controlled.

  “So, this class will focus on the four which are not criminal. I will begin with earth, as that is the one which is the easiest to manipulate.” She held up her hand over the terracotta pot of soil that she had brought into the classroom earlier that day. At a word, the soil began to lift from the pot. She could feel the surge of her power flowing over her skin, radiating from the center of her palm. There was a murmur from the class as it took the shape of a very realistic looking squirrel. Nessa smiled. It was one of her best tricks.

  At the end of the class, all of her students stood, filing out of the classroom. Nessa watched as they left. As the final students exited, someone cleared their throat next to her. She turned in surprise to face the older student. She looked at him questioningly. He smiled his heart-stoppingly beautiful grin.

  “Yes?” she asked, feeling her throat go dry.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Um, I’m not actually one of your students.” Now Nessa frowned.

  “Then you shouldn’t be here,” she snapped. She crossed her arms over her chest. She opened her mouth to threaten him with calling campus security. He held up his hand, as if he knew exactly what she was about to say.

  “I’m with the government,” he said. He looked to the side and then back at her. “I mean, I am the government.” He laughed a little and Nessa frowned. She didn’t enjoy being toyed with. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

  “So?” She raised her eyebrow and widened her eyes. Lots of people had heard about her. He smiled at her, completely unfazed and unthreatened.

  “We are looking for someone of your skill,” he said.

  “We who? Who are you?” She asked. “What do you want from me?” He smiled again. He held out his hand. She looked at it.

  “I am, formally, His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Imrahil I,” he said simply. Nessa’s eyes shot up to his face in shock. He was studying her face. “Your parents were Necromancers, who worked with my father. Naturally, you would be one as well, given the hereditary nature of the power.”

  “You’re joking,” she said, not sure which part of what he had said that she was referring to. Her mouth dropped open. She searched for something to say and was shocked to find her mind utterly blank.

  “No,” he replied. “You may call me Ra. Most people do.” He paused, as if waiting for her to say something. She could think of nothing—things rarely shocked her. She had been rude to a crown prince. She was a Necromancer. That was illegal. Was being rude to a prince illegal as well? Rats. She reminded herself to close her mouth. Her teeth clicked sharply as they snapped together.

  “Why are you here?” Nessa asked, finally finding her voice.

  “We need your help,” he replied, running a hand absentmindedly over his hair. “I asked you about spirit magic for a purpose.”

  “Yes?” Nessa did not like where this was going.

  “Recently, my brother has been sensing a new power—a stronger power than the Necromancer in the past,” he studied Nessa as he spoke, gauging her reaction. She tried to keep her look impassive. “This Necromancer is trying to call up a demon. One who seeks to enter the land of the living and destroy it. It is an ancient power—one that is strong enough to do serious damage.”

  “I don’t see how I could help you,” Nessa replied doubtfully.

  “We need someone who is strong,” Ra said. “We have heard a lot about you. Well, Charlie has, and that’s saying a lot because he rarely leaves the palace.” He laughed nervously. Nessa frowned.

  “Why doesn’t he leave?” she asked. She had heard of the other prince, but not many had ever seen him. It was rumored that Ra’s twin brother was malformed—an aberration as a result of an indiscretion on the queen’s part.

  “I know what you may have heard,” Ra said slowly. “But none of that is true. Charlie is special. There’s nothing wrong with him. He’s a sensitive—a very powerful one. Going out among people is just really difficult for him. He can’t touch people without having some sort of vision. It’s just easier for him to remain among his books. He wears gloves… all of the time.”

  “Is that why you’re the crown prince?” Nessa bit her lip. That was probably taking too many liberties with a royal. But then, she had never been in the presence of a royal before. She did not know the social protocol. Ra waved it away.

  “Yes and no,” he said, unbothered by her question. “I was born three minutes before Charlie.”

  “Ah,” Nessa said. “I still don’t see—” He raised his hand to stop her.

  “Charlie has seen that you are the one to stop this.”

  “Oh.”

  “He says that you have the power to harness the spirit magic.”

  “Only me.” She could not believe what she was hearing. She had never attempted spirit magic in her life.

  “Only you.”

  “How accurate are Charlie’s visions?”

  “Very.” He said it with such certainty. “Your parents were particularly strong Necromancers.”

  “Why wouldn’t they tell me this?”

  “It’s illegal.” He shrugged.

  “And I won’t be arrested for working this spirit magic?”

  “Why would we do that to you?”

  “I’ve never dealt with royals before,” she replied. “I only know what I’ve read in books. In the past, royals have been known to be a bit… unreliable.”

  “That would be my great-great grandmother,” Ra replied. “She had a penchant for beheading people. We prefer to burn people.” He smiled easily at her. She could not tell whether he was joking or not.

  “I see,” she replied slowly, trying to figure out the best way to say no.

  “Please come and meet Charlie,” Ra said. He wasn’t begging. He definitely expected her to go. He wasn’t the type of person that was denied what he wanted. She could tell that he definitely expected her to go. She had to admit to herself, though—she was intrigued. She wanted to meet the mysterious hidden prince. She wanted to see him for herself. More than that, though, she wanted to dabble in spirit magic. She had for quite some time. She had wanted to try her own strength. She figured that she could do it. The allure of power that most people were not able to harness was tempting. Her confidence in her own abilities was high.

  “Alright,” she said, and he smiled. He had expected it. “But I want a promise from you that I will not be burned for breaking the law.” He nodded once.

  “You have my word as crown prince.”

  Nessa fought rolling her eyes. She had the feeling that she was going to hear that often.

  ***

  The palace was a large stone monstrosity. It was fortified dark granite on the outside, seemingly impenetrable. On the inside, however, it was elegantly decorated, with c
ream-colored walls and gold and crimson accents. Nessa looked around her. The lush crimson carpet beneath her feet was soft as butter. It hushed the clack of her stiletto heels. There were grand, mullioned windows that let the sun shine through, and golden silk curtains hung beside them, spilling onto the floors. The walls were hung with tapestries that depicted scenes with golden dragons.

  “Are these your ancestors?” she asked Ra.

  “Of course,” he replied. “All royals of this country are golden dragons. We were gifted the ability to shift in times when the country needs to be protected.”

  “Are both you and your brother shifters?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Do you have any other abilities?”

  “I get the distinct feeling that you are studying me, Professor,” he teased lightly. Nessa flushed red.

  “It is the Academic’s curse,” she replied, refusing to be ruffled. “We must study all whom we come in contact with. And, anyway, I’m not a full professor yet.”

  “No?” he looked at her.

  “No. This was to be my first semester as a student teacher,” she replied. “Another semester, and I would have been offered the professorship.”

  “You seem confident,” he remarked. She looked him in the eye.

  “I deserve it.”

  He seemed taken aback by her utter and blunt certainty for a second. He recovered quickly, however. He led her down the hallway to a dark mahogany door. He opened it and held it for her as she passed. There was a large flight of stairs behind it. They climbed it in silence.

  At the top of the stairs, there was another door. It was painted crimson, with sleek gloss paint. Ra opened this one, as well, letting Nessa pass him. She gasped when she saw what was behind it.

  She found herself in a circular tower room. It was filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, which were absolutely magnificent. In the center of the room, there was a model of the solar system, sculpted from bronze. It was moving of its own accord, in order to tell the watcher where certain alignments were occurring—like a clock, but for a clairvoyant. Beneath the bronze clock, there was a table, which was covered in open books. The table was surrounded by comfortable-looking plush armchairs. One of them was occupied by Ra’s double—the same chiseled features, sparkling blue eyes, and brown hair. He smiled at Nessa, and immediately, she could spot the subtle differences.

 

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