by Sarina Dorie
I waited to see if he would want to apologize.
He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I grew vexed with you for wanting to be helpful. I understand my problems affect you. I will endeavor to remember that in the future when I am hesitant to share . . . my worries with you.” He raised an eyebrow. “Your turn, Miss Lawrence.”
“You want me to apologize?” I asked, incredulous.
“Indeed. I should think you have a multitude of mistakes worthy of apologizing over.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about my plan.” If I had, he would have told me how stupid it was, which I wouldn’t have believed, but he would have been correct. “I’m sorry I trusted Vega. Also, I shouldn’t have borrowed ingredients from your closet without telling you. I will communicate with you the next time I am inspired to do something brilliant.”
He shook his head at me. “I wish that were the case, but it’s highly unlikely.”
“Never say nev—”
He touched his mouth to mine. My lips parted, allowing him entrance. I shifted my weight, gouging a sliver of glass deeper into my heel. I gasped, and he moaned into my mouth.
He drew back, his eyes bright and sparkling. “You have a bit of glass in your foot, don’t you?”
“Probably.”
He circled an arm around my back and the other behind my legs, lifting me off my feet. “It’s time for minor surgery and miracles.”
That was good. My bladder wasn’t getting any less full. He set me on my bed.
He crouched next to my feet. “Inhale,” he said. “Now exhale.”
As I did so, he plucked a shard of glass out of my heel. I gasped at the pain of it. He jabbed his thumb against the injury, which didn’t exactly feel all sunshine and pleasure magic.
I waved a hand at the rainbow puddle. “Maybe we should use some of that rainbow juice to heal my cut.”
“You’ll be fine without it.” He moved on to my other foot.
I examined my heel. There wasn’t even a cut. “How did you do—”
“Inhale,” he said.
He didn’t wait for me to exhale. I didn’t have time to prepare myself for the pain before he yanked out another shard. I cried out.
“Come now.” He chuckled. “It wasn’t that bad.”
“Yes, it was. You know I’m a softy for pain.”
He kneaded his fingers into the ball of my foot, and the pain diffused away. He sat on the bed beside me and kissed my cheek. “You’re welcome.”
I didn’t thank him. I knew the rules of this world. I wasn’t going to owe him.
“Shall we move on to more pressing matters?” He nodded to my crotch.
I lay down on the rumpled bed covers, feeling self-conscious as I spread my legs. There was an element of this that reminded me of going to the doctor for a pelvic exam. He lay his palm flat against my belly and palpated my bladder.
That definitely didn’t help the urgency of wanting him to fix my magical disappearing vagina.
I shoved his hand away. “You’re a sadist.”
He grinned. “I do have a reputation for being excellent at torture, after-school detentions, and other related tasks.” He lifted his palm into the air, not touching my belly, but hovering inches above. His hands danced in the space around my body, his eyes distant. A subtle pressure, like the stroke of a finger, tickled inside me.
“Is this the remote-awareness technique?” I asked.
“Indeed. You can finally see a practical application of its uses.” He lapsed into silence. “My initial assessment was that your physiology was no longer there. Upon a more thorough examination, I have concluded all your organs are still present. Interestingly, they are warded so well, one would believe they were absent. I can see how this spell would be a practical application as a chastity belt, if not for the fact that you might want to relieve your bladder someday.”
His evaluation was clinical and pragmatic. It shouldn’t have surprised me. I’d known him long enough to have witnessed how he removed himself from emotions when it came to his profession.
“Shall I examine the full extent of what you’ve done to yourself?” His touch on my knee was gentle as he adjusted my legs.
His face was unnervingly calm, a mask that didn’t give any of his thoughts away. I tried not to think about what would happen if he couldn’t fix what I’d done to myself. A bubble of panic welled up in me again. He shifted my skirt higher and palpated the smooth expanse of skin that now served as my chastity belt.
I stared up at the ceiling. This wasn’t like when he touched me sensually or to show he cared. I didn’t like how cool and distant he was. I didn’t want the Merlin-class Celestor right now. I wanted someone to hold my hand and tell me I would be fine.
The silence stretched on.
My voice came out scratchy and rough. “This is a lot like playing doctor.”
“What do you mean?” He removed his wand from his pocket and drew runes in the air.
“When you were a kid, didn’t you ever play doctor with other kids?” I asked. “Someone would be the doctor and the other kids would be the patients and would have to take off their clothes so the doctor could examine them.”
“Let me guess, and you always volunteered to be the doctor?”
“No. I wasn’t supposed to play that game with the other kids. Mom was shocked when Missy told her the neighbor kids tried to get us to play it with them. We weren’t allowed to go over to their house when their parents weren’t home after that.”
“All things considered, that was probably for the best.” He tilted his head to the side, examining me like a specimen.
I resumed staring up at the ceiling.
He patted my knee. “Your condition is curable. Let me tell you your two options. I can dissolve this problem slowly, which may take several hours. The process itself will be painless, but you will have to manage the pain that will inevitably result while the discomfort of your bladder grows. The other option is that I can do this quickly with my magic.” He lowered his voice. “With the Red affinity. It might be pleasant or painful. Or both. I can’t say as of yet.”
I examined the crack in the plaster of the ceiling. “We might as well get this over with.” Just the idea of pain terrified me, but I knew it was for the best.
“Clarissa? Look at me.”
I tore my gaze away from the ceiling.
“I realize this isn’t the most . . . ideal situation. But. . . .” He wet his lips, his voice trailing off as he stared into my face.
I tried to blink away the tears threatening to overflow from my eyes.
His eyebrows drew together. “You are . . . afraid. Understandably so. What can I do to ease your anxiety?”
Well, for one, it would have helped not to tell me it was going to hurt. Not that he could undo that now. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat.
“I need you to kiss me and hug me.”
“Of course.”
He tucked his wand away and lay down on the bed, curling his knees up to fit. I draped my legs over his and nestled my face to rest in the hollow under his chin. He kissed my crown and draped an arm across my waist, snuggling close. This was the first time he’d been in this bed with me since Josie had bitten me.
“I wish I hadn’t lost my temper with you earlier,” he said quietly. “I don’t want you to think I’m a monster who makes you walk on broken glass and takes pleasure in your pain.”
“I don’t think that.”
“So you say, but I don’t know if you believe that.” He dipped his face down and planted kisses along my jaw. “I love you.”
Warmth radiated through my chest at his words. They affected me as tangibly as his kisses.
“That was what I needed.” I snuggled closer to him and placed a hand on his chest. “I love you too.”
His heart thrummed, nervous and agitated. His muscles were tense under my hand. It hadn’t crossed my mind that he might be u
neasy about curing me, not with the calm way he held himself, like a doctor removed from a patient.
I lifted my head to meet his lips. His kiss was like a respite after a long journey. I did feel better afterward.
He stroked me between my legs. His breath rushed against my cheek, warm and tickling. He spoke quietly, his deep voice as much a sensuous song as any a siren might chant. I closed my eyes, lost in the flavor of magic. I smelled ozone, sharp and mixed with the softer scent of petrichor right before a storm. His tongue brushed against my lower lip, tasting of starlight and honey. My senses grew confused.
I didn’t expect to feel aroused by his touch when I was so worried about the state of my vagina, but he managed to make me tingle in all the right places. Even if those places weren’t actually present.
He traced a finger along the smooth surface of skin that should have been wet with wanting for him. I shivered. He massaged my pubic mount, the yearning building within me.
“How do you do that? How can you arouse me when I don’t even have the anatomy to feel aroused?”
“You have the correct physiology for arousal. It’s just trapped under what I suspect is a chastity warding.”
He shifted and planted kisses against my closed eyelids. Something cold and hard pressed between my legs.
“Is that your wand or are you happy to see me?” I asked.
“It’s my wand.”
The wood warmed against my flesh as he drew it up to my belly and back down again.
Something rough dragged against the skin between my legs. It completely killed the sexy mood for me.
I opened my eyes. “Ow! Your wand has a splinter.”
“My wand is completely smooth and free of splinters. It has been tried and tested before.”
The warm tingle of magic would have been pleasant except for the sharp bite of another splinter against my skin.
I flinched. “There was another one. Can’t you do this without poking me with that thing? This isn’t the most ideal place to get a splinter.”
“It isn’t a splinter. It’s magic. I need my wand to focus my affinity. My magic is breaking the wards that were erected.”
“Heh. You said ‘erect.’”
He rolled his eyes. The wand zapped my skin again. I tried not to flinch, but I didn’t quite manage it.
He kissed my cheek. “Let’s see if I can distract you from any . . . splinters.”
I was about to argue that he’d already said there weren’t any splinters.
He swooped in, diving his face between my legs and pressing his mouth where my clitoris should have been. The suddenness of the pleasure stole my breath away, leaving me speechless. He stroked me with his tongue and sucked hard enough I throbbed under the layer of ward-induced skin that wasn’t my own.
My heartbeat thundered as pleasure rose inside me. He murmured an incantation against the smooth expanse of ward. His lips thrummed with electricity, the sensation tentative at first, but steadily increasing. There was a rhythm to the pulse, matching the words he chanted, fluctuating higher and lower. Muscles contracted and relaxed inside me, craving the release he promised. His wand pressed harder against me.
I wanted this. I could feel I was almost there. I moaned as pleasure rose inside me.
Something popped. I screamed, as much startled by the sound as I was by the blossom of pain. I kicked his hand. His wand went flying across the room and landed on the floor in a rainbow puddle. He was lucky that was all I’d kicked.
I turned away from him and moaned. Tears streamed down my cheeks. The promise of all those good feelings had ended so differently from what I had hoped for.
Someone tapped at the door.
“Clarissa?” Vega asked. She actually sounded concerned.
Thatch waved his hand at the door, and the knocking stopped.
He lifted himself up onto an elbow beside me. “You’re welcome.”
Gingerly, I felt between my legs. The layer of skin was gone from over my clitoris and labia, but the vaginal entrance didn’t feel right. It felt too small. In a rush of horror, it dawned on me.
“Oh God! I’m a virgin again. This is worse than being cursed.” I wrapped my arms around my middle and hugged myself. “I don’t want to have to break my hymen again.”
The knocking came again at the door, this time more urgent. “What is going on in there?” Vega demanded.
Thatch flicked his hand at the door. Vega silenced.
He enfolded me in his arms. “Look at it this way: you get to call unicorns to you again.”
After all the fuss and stalking from Bart the unicorn, I was not looking forward to that.
“You and your magic phallus,” I said.
“You were very brave,” he said.
I managed a weak smile.
He kissed my cheek and dabbed at my tears with the sleeve of his tweed jacket. “Are you ready to try again? Just a little bit more, and we’ll be done.”
“What? You’re joking, right?”
“No.”
I drew away from him. “You are not going to do that again.”
He gave me one of his sardonic smiles. “I’m going to have to break your hymen sooner or later. You were the one who wanted to get this over with, were you not?” He leaned in to kiss me.
I placed a hand on his chest. “I don’t want you to touch me anymore right now. I’m done for the day.”
The door burst open and crashed against the wall. Vega’s eyes burned red. A tornado of wind gusted around her, whipping the hem of her skirt and her hair.
I tugged my skirt back down to my knees to cover myself more modestly.
“Get your fucking hands off my roommate.” She snapped her fingers at him and flicked her hand in his direction.
Thatch sat up. He clutched at his chest, gasping.
She strode forward. “No one kicks me out of my own room. You might act all high and mighty as department head, but that gives you no right to barge in here, into the women’s dormitories, and to molest my roommate.”
“Vega, stop,” I said. “He wasn’t molesting me.”
Vega’s hands danced in the air.
“Merlin’s balls,” he muttered as he jerked away from me. His legs moved beneath him awkwardly and unnaturally. He walked like a puppet on strings.
From the way Vega chanted, her eyes trained on him, I suspected she was doing just that. He stumbled out of the room. The door slammed behind him.
Vega collapsed onto the bed beside me. I scooted away. On the other side of me lay a field of broken glass.
“You’re too stupid to figure out if someone is molesting you or not,” Vega said.
“No, I’m not. That was completely consensual.”
“It didn’t sound consensual when you screamed or when you said no and he kept trying to convince you to say yes.”
“That wasn’t sex. It was magic.” Except the two were so closely interwoven for me it was sometimes hard to tell the difference.
She crossed her arms. “He isn’t good for you.”
“I didn’t ask you.”
“He’s bored. He’s just using you to amuse himself like he did with Josie. I told her not to fall for him, but she didn’t listen to me. He gets high on being cruel.”
“No, he doesn’t.”
“I’ve worked with him for ten years. Don’t you think I would know him by now? Whereas you’ve worked with him for what? Two years? I suppose that makes you an expert.”
Two and a half years.
“So you’re saying he hurt me on purpose? That isn’t true. He wouldn’t do that.” Felix Thatch loved me.
“Hello? Are you a complete idiot?” She knocked on my head. “He is the most fucked-up person I’ve ever met. He’s drawn to you like a moth to a bonfire. Your innocence and sweet disposition—not to mention his issues with your fucking mother—are going to push every button in him. The landscape of his emotions is like a battlefield r
ight now, and you keep fueling his angsty emo suffering with your lousy sensitivity to pain. Don’t look at me like that. I’ve known about both your secrets for quite some time.”
My jaw dropped. How long had she known his affinity was pain? And she’d never made mention of it before, only implied she knew what his affinity was. That was just the kind of thing Vega would do, keep a secret all to herself until it benefited her to drop a big truth bomb as blackmail.
“Why are you telling me this now?” I asked warily.
“Because I’m trying to get through to you. He is unhealthy for you. Every instinct in him wants to hurt you, to crush you, and to use you. Think about how hard that is for him. You’re torturing him.” The expression on her face was disgusted more than concerned.
“So you’re telling me this because you don’t want me to hurt Thatch.” Somehow I doubted altruism was Vega’s motive here.
She leaned closer, managing to loom over me from where she sat. “No, I’m telling you this because I’m trying to protect you.”
I leaned away from her. “Yeah, I saw how you tried to ‘protect’ me before. I don’t need any more of your help.”
“Yes, you do! You’d be dead right now if it wasn’t for me!” She grabbed me by the front of my blouse and shook me. “Every time you engage your affinity with him, every time you let him touch you and you enjoy it, you fuel her fury, and she grows stronger. It isn’t just you she’s going to hurt. She’ll hurt the students too.”
She. We were at this wall again. I didn’t dare interrupt, lest Vega stop. I wanted to know as much as Vega was willing to reveal.
“She uses your energy together to damage the wards—” Vega choked. She released me and clawed at her throat. Her face turned red.
“Are you okay? Can you breathe?” I asked.
She gasped and nodded. Her nose was pink, and she sniffled. Her mascara ran, and she coughed again.
“She Who Must Not Be Named did that to you?” I asked.
She nodded.
“Why?” I asked.
“Just stay away from Thatch. You’ll live longer if you do.”
I hated it when people made me choose between my boyfriend and living, especially because my rebellious nature led me down the path of bad choices.
