by Sadie Moss
Cam’s parents were scientists and died when he was sixteen, so I don’t know anything about his status in the magical community. But from what I know about Asher and Dmitri’s families, they’re both big deals. And I think I know now why Alyssa and her crew are so determined to be bitchy to me: without even meaning to, I’ve scored the three hottest and most eligible men on campus.
Even if I wasn’t romantically interested in the guys, any girl who wanted to get close to them would probably have to go through me.
The fury at someone like me getting in good with these three men has to be eating away at Alyssa and her friends. It makes a lot of sense now why they dislike me.
Do I still think it’s bullshit? Fuck, yes. But at least it takes on some kind of twisted logic.
I sit down with Cam on one side, Asher on the other, and Dmitri on the end of the aisle glaring at anyone who thinks to sit and join us.
“I see his antisocial meter is at an all-time high,” I whisper to Cam.
“It was a tough winter break.” He grimaces, his blue eyes flashing with sympathy as he cuts a glance at his friend.
Fuck. That sucks.
Dean Hardwick gets up and gives a speech similar to the one he gave at the beginning of the fall semester. It’s the usual spiel about how important the academy is to our young minds, how much he hopes we enjoyed the break, all the opportunities that will be afforded to us this semester, and so on.
So, you know, the boring stuff.
I’m just glad he doesn’t mention anything about what happened with Raul. The guys and I were kind of hailed as heroes in the weeks following that incident and were credited with not just saving lives but also with keeping the school from being shut down. Which is nice, I suppose, but it’s not like I went out of my way to do it for the praise. I did it because I’m a decent human being, and I like to think most other people would’ve done the same thing in my shoes.
I’m not the kind of person who likes a lot of attention. Never have been. So I’m glad it looks like Hardwick wants to move on, same as the rest of us, and forget that whole terrifying ordeal ever happened.
After about thirty minutes, the dean wraps up his speech, and Cam gives a heavy sigh. “Welp, that’s it. Break’s officially over.”
“Thank God,” Dmitri mutters.
“Hey, at least the holiday didn’t have one thing,” Asher points out.
“What’s that?”
“Homework.”
Oh, fuck me.
The guys and I make the most of our final day off after the assembly by doing… well, absolutely nothing.
Cam and I go for a run in the woods, bundled up against the cold wind, and then we all chill out in our dorm room, swapping stories of our time off and making predictions about what the semester will hold. Dmitri listens but doesn’t add much. I don’t push him—not just because I don’t want to get my head bitten off, but because I know what it’s like to have shitty family members, and I don’t want to make him get into it if he doesn’t want to.
It feels a little weird not to sneak over to Roman’s room in the evening like I have the past three nights, but I decide against it. It seems too risky with all the students back in the dorm. Plus, despite the fact that all four of these men have now straight-up told me they’d be willing to share me in a five-way relationship… I have no idea how to navigate that.
I mean, what’s the protocol here? Do I just say hey, I’m gonna go have hot, dirty sex with my other boyfriend, be back in a bit? Do I invite them to come with me? What?
So, like the true coward I’m proud to be, I don’t do anything.
Besides, I missed the guys a lot, and as mind-blowing as sex with Roman is, I’m perfectly content curled up on the couch between Asher and Cam watching stupid comedies. Cam has his arm slung casually around my shoulder, and Asher’s hand rests gently on my knee. I know if I call it out, or even think about it too long, I’ll get all awkward and flustered about it… so I don’t.
I just let myself enjoy it instead.
We’re up bright and early the next day, and after breakfast, we all walk over to Wellwood Hall together before we part ways. The main school building is massive and imposing, and it sort of looks like the architect changed his vision half a dozen times while designing it. There’s not really a cohesive style, and parts of the structure soar at least six or seven stories high while others are only three or four stories. Then there are the turrets and towers that rise up in places, their gray stone facades piercing the blue sky.
I have some classes with the guys, but since they’re a year ahead of me, I also have a lot of stuff on my own. When I walk into my first class, my gaze darts around, and I feel a sudden pang in my chest as I realize… I’m looking for Raul.
We always sat together in the first-year-only classes. It was our thing. We supported each other that way, even if we weren’t always super loud and vocal about it.
My heart squeezes. Just another reason why you can’t let yourself get attached to anyone. You never know how or when the universe is going to yank them away from you.
I sit down at the front, if only because Alyssa and the others tend to sit in the back and I’d like to do my part to avoid the drama.
Roman enters the large classroom, and my stomach flips. I haven’t seen him since the night the guys got back, and I know that was only a day and a half ago, but it already feels too long.
I’m turning into a damn sap. Fucking hell.
“Welcome back, everyone.”
He thunks his books down on the desk as he surveys us. Warm morning sunlight streaming through the windows glints off his ebony hair, and he’s got that hint of shadow on his jawline that I love. I remember how that scruff tormented the tender skin of my breasts and thighs, and I have to squeeze my legs together to suppress the ache that rises up.
His gaze lands on me, and even though his lips don’t move, I could swear his eyes are smiling at me. I flush slightly, biting my cheek to hide my own smile as I glance away.
Roman’s a tough teacher, and he doesn’t make an exception for me… although sometimes I fear he pays a bit more attention to me than to the others. It’s probably to make up for how he panicked a little and was far tougher on me than on anyone else at the beginning of last semester, but still. The last thing I need is Alyssa or one of her friends figuring out I’m sleeping with a professor.
We do our morning meditation, something that’s a staple of this class because it helps us relax and tune into our emotions, then move onto the rest of class. I watch Roman’s hands as he starts the day’s lecture, writing glowing runes on the large board behind him to illustrate his point. I don’t know where my darkly handsome professor got his training from, but sometimes it feels like he knows everything about everything to do with magic, and it all just seems to come so… easily to him.
So far, all I can do is my sonic boom, which isn’t always helpful since it tends to send people—me included—crashing into walls, and my spider climb. Alyssa was kind enough to nickname me “Cockroach” for that little trick.
But Roman makes it seem so easy and effortless—beautiful, almost. And he’s so passionate, his voice rising and falling as he discusses the importance of a true connection between the head and the heart.
That’s about when I realize I’m not actually paying attention to the lecture the way I should be.
Shit. I grab a pen and my notebook and start scribbling down notes. Here I am, getting all starry-eyed over Roman the exact way I promised myself I wouldn’t. What the hell, Elliot? Get your head in the game!
I need to focus up and buckle down. The course load here is difficult—lots of research papers and studying for classes like Magical Theory and History of Magic, and exhausting hands-on work in classes like Physical Training, Practical Magic, and Combat. I need to keep my head down and give it everything I’ve got if I want to learn how to control my magic and pass with good grades. Then I can graduate and go back to my normal life with Mad
Yup. Stolen.
That was the choice I was given by the Circuit representative before I came here, and I’m still a little bitter about it. But Unpredictable magic is apparently so worrisome that if you don’t agree to go to a specialized school for it, the Circuit—the local law enforcement for magic users—will take your magic away for good.
Awesome, right?
I almost decided to let them take it from me. My magic sparked so late in life that I’d gotten used to living without it and existing somewhat separate from the magical community, so a part of me had thought maybe it was best to continue that way. But Maddy’s magic sparked right before mine did, and being cut off from the community meant I might get cut off from her.
I couldn’t let that happen.
So, here I am.
My gaze flicks up to Roman again as he continues lecturing. As much as I try not to, I can’t help but remember how it felt to have him on top of me. Inside me. His scent surrounding me, the dominating presence of his body making me feel small and sexy as his gaze raked over me…
Goddamn it, Elliot! What did I just fucking say?
Mentally chastising myself, I clench my pencil a little harder and focus on copying down what he’s written on the board. Sheesh. I do not have time to be daydreaming about my professor.
I’m not trying to pin you down, he said.
The possibilities of that…
Cam and Asher already made it clear they’re happy to share me if that’s what I want. Dmitri—God only knows what goes on in his head, although I suspect he cares more about me than he wants to admit, given how protective of me he is when danger so much as thinks about knocking. If Roman truly is okay with sharing me…
It could be incredible.
But can I afford to let my feelings for Roman, for all the guys, deepen? Can I really open myself up to that? Nearly everyone I’ve ever cared about in my life has left. Dad abandoned us, and God only knows what he’s up to now. Mom died. Friends fell away after Mom passed and I had to take care of my sister, none of them wanting to commit too much of their time and energy to helping us. Maddy’s been the only constant in my life.
Can I really trust any of these guys to stick around, and to mean it?
Roman gives me a slightly worried look as class ends, and I know he’s noticed that I’m sort of withdrawn, stuck in my thoughts. I want to tell him I’m fine, but that would be a lie, and he’s always been able to see right through me no matter how hard I try to run from him.
It’s annoying and touching, how perceptive he can be.
My next class is Combat, with Professor Tamlin.
Roman’s ex-girlfriend.
Professor Tamlin is a great person, honestly. I really like her. She’s also sophisticated, put together, effortlessly beautiful, and literally everything I’m not. I still don’t understand why Roman isn’t dating her—how he could’ve broken up with her. His answer the other night about why things ended between them was vague, and the tone of his voice when he talked about her made it clear he still cares for her.
I try not to let that knowledge sit like a rock in my stomach as I change into workout clothes before slipping into the large classroom on the fourth floor. The desks are all arranged around the perimeter of the massive room to give us space to work in the middle.
“All right, everyone,” Tamlin says, clapping her hands once. “This semester, we’ll be working on incorporating more magic into your fighting. The second- and third-years can begin sparring right away, but for the first-years, I’ll work with you a bit more on some magical techniques to make sure you’re ready before you try them out in combat. Control will obviously be very important, since you’ll need to be able to pull your magical punches as well as your fists. You’ll only begin sparring magically when you feel ready. Understood?”
There’s a general murmur of assent from the students. There are about twenty people in this section of Combat class, and almost half of us are first-years. Cam shoots me an excited grin as he and the other guys head over to one side of the classroom to get geared up for their sparring session, and even Dmitri looks a little more cheerful at the prospect of a fight. I shoot them a thumbs up before turning my attention back to Tamlin.
“Today you’re going to work on making objects move using your magic.” She sweeps an arm out, showing us a large basket she’s set up on our side of the room. “Now, I know some of you might be thinking ‘but Professor Tamlin, I don’t have telekinetic power.’ And I know that.” She grins. “What you’re going to do is learn how to use your magic to achieve the same goal as all of your classmates. It’ll help develop your control over your power and hopefully make you see it in a whole new way, but it can take a while to get the hang of it. So we’d better get started.”
She hands us each a tennis ball and directs us to get it into the basket across the room.
Um… what?
Brows pinched, I stare down at the fuzzy yellow ball in my hand. How the hell am I supposed to get this into the basket with a fucking sonic boom? Without injuring everyone in the room, preferably.
I try, I really do, focusing with all of my might, but I just can’t make it work. Megan actually has telekinetic powers, the cheater, and she does a little happy dance as her ball floats docilely into the basket. It takes all my willpower not to glare at her. Alyssa manages to get hers in too after a few minutes of effort, literally stretching her arm across the length of the room to drop the ball in. Her body transformation power then allows her to slowly retract her arm, and she and her groupies celebrate loudly.
We work on the task all through the two-hour class, and one by one, nearly all of my classmates find a way to use their magic to move their tennis balls. With every new cheer of success, my panic and frustration rise.
Fuck. These people around me have lived their whole lives steeped in magic. I haven’t, which means I’m playing a constant game of catch-up.
My irritation is growing like some kind of itch I can’t scratch. Maybe Roman’s just been too distracting. Maybe I wouldn’t be so behind if I could’ve practiced my magic over the break instead of having it locked up inside me. Maybe—
Before I can stop myself, I snatch up the tennis ball and hurl it across the room.
It ends up in the basket, which doesn’t surprise me since I’ve always had a good arm and good eye-hand coordination, but… I have the feeling a non-magical solution was kind of the opposite of what Professor Tamlin wanted.
Alyssa sees it and snickers, whispering into Cristina’s ear. Kendal gives me a sheepish sort of better luck next time shrug, then quickly looks away.
Cheeks burning, I cross to the basket to fetch my tennis ball.
God, today sucks.
As everyone else files out of class and I’m gathering my things, Professor Tamlin walks over, her athletic pants and top perfectly flattering and color-coordinated as always.
“Elliot.” She folds her arms. “I couldn’t help but notice you were a bit frustrated today.”
I shrug. “How I’m supposed to use a sonic boom to get a ball across a room is beyond me, Professor.”
She gives me a small smile. “Well, your sonic boom generates kinetic energy. When you hit someone with it, you send them flying. So it’s a matter of figuring out how to tweak it, to make that force smaller and more concentrated, so that, perhaps, it flies out from your hand at just the right strength to drive the ball forward and into the basket.”
My face scrunches up. “That sounds impossible.”
“It will take a while, but I can assure you, it’s entirely possible.” Her smile doesn’t waver. “Why don’t you and I work one-on-one for a few weeks? Roman mentioned you’ve been feeling a little behind. Maybe some tutoring sessions would help.”
My head jerks at the mention of Roman’s name, and I have to work hard to keep my expression neutral. Roman’s been talking to her?
Duh, of course he has. They’re both professors here. They probably talk about students’ progress all the time.
Still, I can’t help the unreasonable coil of jealousy that twists in my gut. Does he still have real feelings for her? Does he regret breaking up with her?
“I get the feeling I don’t have a choice in this,” I say with a groan.
“Of course you have a choice.” Professor Tamlin looks appalled that I would see it any other way. “But I do worry that if you don’t get some extra tutoring, you’re going to fall behind, and I don’t want to have to hold you back in class.”
“Can’t you just give me an A for effort?” I flash her a hopeful grin.
“Trust me, I wish I could. But I have a responsibility to ensure everyone who graduates from my class can accomplish certain tasks and meet particular goals.”
Ugh. Failing definitely isn’t an option. But tutoring sessions with Roman’s ex? The absolute last person I want to look like an idiot in front of? And what if she gives Roman progress reports?
Sounds like one of the lower circles of Hell to me.
“I’ll email you some times I’m available, and we can set up a few sessions,” Professor Tamlin says. “You’re powerful and very naturally gifted, Elliot. I’m sure it won’t take long for you to catch up.”
Great.
Chapter 4
The next couple weeks seem to fly by in a flash as the whole school gets back into the swing of things.
Classes are fine. I can’t complain. They’re still difficult for me though, and I find myself getting frustrated probably more than I should. The written stuff is totally fine. My History of Magic class, for example—I’m doing pretty well in that. But the practical stuff…
I hate to admit it, but Professor Tamlin was right. I need some extra help, or I’m going to fall behind. And I can’t have that. I won’t fail out of this damn school and be forced to give up my magic; I won’t lose my powers or my sister.
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