Wicked Magic: Harper Shadow Academy (Book Three)

by Luna Pierce

  I peek through one eye when I notice Ruby shifting her body.

  She repositions, a sense of annoyance seeming to float off her.

  I close my eyes and go back to the exercise, breathing in, then out.

  A few minutes of this go by, and my body truly does feel more relaxed. Although my mind keeps wanting to meander.

  The face of each of my guys pops up into my head. A smiling Deghan, a serious Sydney, a cheerful Cam, and a broody Silas.

  The image of Silas sticks, not wanting to leave.

  I push it away, but it doesn’t budge.

  Breathe, Willow.

  His face changes, his jaw tightens, his fists ball up, and he raises them to his face, gripping his hair and holding his head in his hands. Something is wrong with him.

  I run through my mind to get closer to him, but he recoils.

  He shrinks down, crouching into a small version of himself, helpless and terrified. The Silas in my mind flinches, like he hears something that might harm him. He puts his head between his legs and rocks back and forth.

  Pure terror radiates from him.

  No matter how hard I try to get to him, I can’t. In this part of my mind, I’m only a spectator, unable to do a damn thing.

  It’s only a strange vision, but the thought of leaving him in here this way unsettles me to my core.

  I remind myself: this is only the Silas in my head, not my Silas in real life.

  I continue to painfully study him with each of his trembling motions until suddenly, his head snaps up, his eyes staring directly into mine.

  His normal gorgeous purple and gray, but only this time, they’re blood-red and strained. A single tear rolls down his cheek, and he opens his mouth slightly to whisper a choked, “Help me.”

  My whole world shatters.

  Chapter Twenty

  “Willow,” a frantic voice bellows

  My body shakes—it’s being shaken, something is rattling me.

  “Open your eyes,” the person urges.

  I try to, but they’re glued shut. The vision of Silas is burned into my line of sight.

  I have to help him. I have to save him from whatever is hurting him.

  “Get someone, get help!”

  A tremble weaves through my body. Pain, not my own, but someone else’s, consumes me. It’s Silas, it has to be him.

  How do I get him out of this nightmare if I can’t even get out myself?

  Wind passes by my face; a familiar set of hands grip my cheeks. A gentle new voice. “Willow, come back to me.”

  Automatically, my lids open. Emotion overwhelms me, and tears cascade down. I continue to quiver uncontrollably.

  My Silas scoops me into his arms, rushing toward the door. “Infito grantum hodem.”

  I don’t dare break away from looking at his face, in fear that he’ll turn into the other Silas. The frightened one.

  “I’ve got you,” he mutters into my hair.

  “Silas, you…”

  “I’m right here.” The black t-shirt below his leather jacket shifts under my weight, revealing a wisp of his ink-stained collarbone.

  A moment later, we’re in my bedroom.

  Silas sits on the small bed with me still tucked into his arms. “What happened?” He moves the hair out of my face to get a better look at me.

  “You. I saw you. It was terrible…”

  He smirks. “Tell me what you really think.”

  “No,” I shake my head. “That’s not what I meant. Silas, you were fucking petrified. I couldn’t get to you no matter how hard I tried. You were… crying. Something was hurting you. I could feel it, too.” I reach out and cup his flawless face. “You asked me to help you and I couldn’t save you.”

  He holds me tighter. “I’m here now. Right here with you. The real me. Your Silas. I’m fine, okay?”

  “It was so real.”

  “But it wasn’t. This is.” He trails his fingers along my cheekbone. “Us. You and me.” His gaze lingers on my lips. “This.” He presses them to mine, bringing me back to reality with his touch.

  There’s no way this could be fake.

  They’re the same ones I’ve grown acquainted with. Firm and luscious, moving tenderly against mine.

  I kiss him back, letting our mouths take me away from my brutal thoughts.

  Now, it’s just me and him.

  His grip becomes tighter. His body shifts, letting mine fall gently onto the bed. Silas hovers over me, not breaking our fevered connection in the slightest.

  “We’re real,” he breathes into me.

  Desire takes over in a desperate attempt to confirm what he’s saying is true.

  “Prove it,” I mutter.

  Silas grinds his body along mine, reminding me of our intimate times in the past.

  I shove my hands under his jacket to try to remove it but end up flinching from the soreness of my still injured hand.

  At this, he backs away. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Please don’t stop.”

  He studies me for a moment and then strips himself of his jacket, tossing it onto the floor.

  I run my hands up his tattoo-covered arms and drag his face back down.

  He makes quick work of removing my shirt. He returns to my mouth and glides his left hand down my body, slipping it inside my leggings.

  Thank god for easy access.

  From on top of my panties, he applies pressure, rubbing small circles with his palm.

  I push myself onto him.

  With my bad hand, I grip his neck, kissing him deeper. I take the other and follow the same trail down his body and into his jeans. I hold him as the firmness grows, stroking him gradually.

  Finally, he floats his finger along the edge of my panties and shoves them to the side.

  I take in a breath.

  “This is real,” he whispers and traces that same digit along my wet parts, teasing my entry.

  I groan at the anticipation.

  He slips inside but remains steady with his hand against my clit. The combination drives me insane with want.

  I start climbing the mountain sooner than I hope but not daring to disallow myself the pleasure.

  “Don’t hold back,” his sexy voice directs.

  My eyes roll back, the bliss taking hold, the very same moment my door bursts open.

  I bite down the moan that threatens to escape me regardless of my new visitor. My body trembles, but this time from an earth-shattering orgasm.

  Silas continues to move, clearly not wanting to ruin what he started.

  “Oh god, oh god, I’m sorry.” Sydney’s voice fills my ears. “I should have knocked. I’m leaving. I’m sorry.”

  I exhale, the intense ride coming to a stop.

  Silas pulls his hand out, and I do the same.

  He repositions himself and sits on the bed.

  “Sydney,” I call out. I should be embarrassed but the only thing I am at present is satisfied.

  Syd stands with his back to us, almost exiting the room.

  “What’s up?” I glance down, realizing I’m topless.

  Like he can read my mind, Silas vamps to get my shirt and tosses it to me.

  “I, uh, I heard something happened. I was worried. I shouldn’t have intruded.” He doesn’t turn around.

  “She’s okay,” Silas answers for me. “Willow had an anxiety attack, but she’s good now.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Right?”

  I nod. It’s safe to say I’m definitely not feeling anything comparable to how I was earlier. Not after his hand did that thing to my body.

  I bite my lip. “I didn’t mean to scare you, Syd.” I go to stand, to walk over to him, and get him to face me, but he takes a step forward.

  “Okay.” He leaves my dorm.

  Silas tugs at my hand to sit down. “Are you actually all right?” His brow is creased, and makes me think that if he were human, he’d have a wicked wrinkle there.

  “For now, yeah.” I walk across the ro
om, making sure to turn the lock on the door this time. We don’t need any intruders for what’s about to happen next.

  Silas watches my every move on my way to him.

  I step between his knees, taking his face into my hands and tilting it up.

  “What are you doing?” he questions.

  I run my thumb along his bottom lip and lean forward, kissing him with everything I have. I dance my tongue into his mouth and cascade it with his. I break away for a split second to murmur, “Whatever I want.”

  I tug his onyx shirt, dragging it up and off him. I trail my hands down his chest and kneel on the floor. Without letting my first-time nerves take hold, I unbutton his pants and reach in to pull him out.

  He’s already growing hard, confirming that I’m doing something right here.

  I lower my head, hovering right above his length. I trail my tongue along the tip and grip him firmly. I tease him until it’s me that wants more. Not having any fucking clue what I’m doing, I open my mouth, sliding him in, a little at a time.

  He groans and rakes his hand through my hair. He guides me gently up and down at the pace he wishes.

  I glance up at him, our gazes locking on to each other.

  I swirl my tongue on the bottom of him and position my hand directly at the base of my mouth, moving the two together like they’re connected.

  He remains growing ever so slightly by the second.

  Silas grips my head and gives a firmer push, shoving himself deeper.

  Somehow, my body reignites, wanting another round of him.

  In an instant, he stands, snatches me off the floor, and tosses me onto the bed. He digs his fingers under my bottoms and has them off and thrown to the side in a flash. He starts at my ankle, lingering his tongue all the way up my body, taking pause at my hips.

  He leaves light kisses along my panty line, circling back to where his hand once was. “I need to taste you,” he growls.

  And he does exactly that.

  He blows cool air onto me and then takes his time, licking his way around my already soaked area. Silas grips my thighs and buries his face.

  I wiggle around, not even trying to hold still. I thought what he did earlier felt good? That was nothing compared to this.

  Minutes and minutes pass of him taunting me with his mouth until he decides to come up for air. He resumes his path up my body, pausing to pay attention to both of my breasts. He sucks and nibbles gently on each nipple.

  Once he’s close enough to my face, I grab hold of him and bring him to me, tasting myself with his kiss.

  I shift my body, frantic to have him inside me. An idea strikes, and I pull away, flipping over onto my stomach. I long to feel him in a different way than I have in the past. I back up into him, sliding him into place.

  He enters me and presses his body along mine, gripping my face to turn it to be able to kiss him.

  Our tongues tango, and our bodies melt into each other.

  He was already big, but somehow, he fills me more from this angle.

  We find a rhythm that suits us both, a steady in and out that is so fucking right.

  He lowers himself onto me more, smooshing my weight flat against the bed with him on top of me.

  Having him touch so many areas of my body at once is a whole new level of pleasure.

  “Is this okay?” he speaks quietly into my ear. His fingers weave their way around mine, holding on tightly.

  I press myself against him in response. “Mmhm.” With each delicious thrust, I manage to get closer.

  I ache for him.

  “Together?” Silas whispers.

  “Together,” I let out breathily.

  Instead of picking up his pace, he slows it down, giving me long, deep strokes.

  The new change of pace does exactly what he wants.

  With our hands still locked together and our mouths tied, like he knows what he’s doing, he shoves himself in one last time, sending us both over the edge.

  He throbs inside me as I pulsate around him.

  His body fully collapses onto the bed, only he doesn’t let me go; instead, he drags me with him, turning our bodies to the side with him still inside me.

  I don’t ever want him to leave.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Once the high from our fun dissipates, the vision of him hunkering down onto the floor clouds my mind.

  I may be back in the real world, with my Silas, but something was terribly wrong with what I saw. And if I’ve learned anything in the last few months, nothing is ever by coincidence.

  It had to have been some weird magical omen or premonition… a warning of sorts.

  “If you hurry,” Silas says while putting on his shoes, “you won’t be late for second period.”

  I grumble and bring the nearby pillow over my face. “I don’t wanna.”

  He settles his weight onto the bed and uncovers me.

  I sit up on both elbows. “Hey.”

  He cocks his head to the side. “Yes?”

  “Um, are you going to the formal tomorrow?” I scoot up onto my butt.

  He diverts his gaze. “Why?”

  “Well.” Because you haven’t asked me yet. “You haven’t really mentioned it, other than to confirm you didn’t drop off that dress.”

  He throws on his leather jacket. “It’s not my kind of thing.”

  “Oh.” I try not to let the hurt show through. Maybe I don’t have as many dates as I think I do. I should have never assumed he would want to go with me anyway. Perhaps it wasn’t him who brought me the gown after all.

  He kisses my forehead. “I figured you would go with Sydney, anyway.” Silas stands and tosses me my clothes on his way to the door.

  Sydney? He’s never shown interest in going either.

  I’m sure Deghan and Cameron are going together, so that leaves me totally date-less. I’m not going to barge in on Remi’s plan to go with Kyra, and Lillian and Ethan are a couple.

  I’ll go alone if no one wants to ask me.

  How stupid that an event that I have no concern with going to, I’m going to end up attending by myself.

  Maybe I’ll bail last minute and stay in my room and read and eat junk food. That sounds more appealing than spending a few hours getting ready and making a fool of myself in that dramatic dress.

  “Earth to Willow,” Silas says from his spot near the door.

  “Yeah, that’s fine. Whatever.” I grab my clothes and head to my en suite. I should at least rinse off prior to heading to class. I don’t bother saying anything else to Silas, so I close the door to the bathroom and lock him out.

  When the rest of the school day is over, I skip going to the dining hall with the girls and go straight to the library. Studying is what I need to distract myself from the sad and terrified Silas who keeps popping into my head.

  “Willow,” Abigail calls from the headmaster’s doorway. “Do you have a moment?”

  I break from my path and head her way. “Sorry about earlier.”

  “No, no need. Silas informed me that you had a panic attack.” She meets my gaze. “I wanted to apologize. It wasn’t my intention to trigger you in any way.”

  “You didn’t.” I dig at my thumb with my index finger, a nervous habit I need to break.

  “Please let me know in the future if I push things too far. I care about your well-being.” Her energy is genuine and compassionate. She really is sorry for what happened earlier.

  Although, I have no doubt that it wasn’t her fault. Something else is in play here, I simply haven’t figured it out yet.

  “I will. I didn’t sleep well last night. That probably had something to do with it.” A lie, but hopefully one that will pacify her to stop thinking it was her doing that caused the episode.

  “That’ll do it. Witches are pretty finicky about eating and sleeping. We need all of both that we can get.” She lets out a nervous laugh. “Anyway, you’re free to go, just don’t hesitate if you need anything.”

  �
��Thanks, Abigail.” I offer a weak smile and leave the office. A few moments later, I arrive in the room in the library that has become a second home to me.

  Books are stacked around, some toppled over haphazardly.

  One, in particular, sits open where I left it from the last time I was here.

  I go immediately to it, tossing my bag on a nearby chair. I snatch it up and sink into my usual seat.

  I scan the page and realize I’ve already gone over this material. I flip to the next, and a picture of a pentagram comes into focus. For a millisecond, the five-pointed star glows a fire red but then fades onto the black ink on the page. Must be my eyes playing tricks on me.

  I glance down to the origin section and read that the pentagram has been used symbolically by many, including those in ancient Greece and Babylonia, dating back thousands of years ago.

  Various cultures have different meanings for the symbol, but in Wiccan practice, the points signify earth, sky, fire, water, and Spirit.

  It is said to also symbolize the five senses of sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch.

  The pentagram’s purpose is a little vague, but across most customs, it’s used to either call forth, or ward off evil.

  Seems simple enough.

  Apparently, in Satanism, the design is usually with two of the points facing upward, often with a double circle around the star.

  Satanic witches often summon evil spirits across realms using the marking.

  Like demons.

  A random chill trickles its way down my spine.

  I go to the next page and find another symbol. This one is of a snake that is in the shape of a circle, eating its own tail. This design is sometimes known to be associated with reincarnation and immortality.

  Next to this one is another that reminds me of an infinity sign but with two crosses coming out of the top of it. A quick scan of the text tells me it’s a Leviathan Cross. This one is said to be Satan’s Cross. It has ties to sulfur, which is a flammable element that helped alchemists rid unwanted substances. The guy that this thing is named by, Leviathan, is supposed one of the Princes from Hell.