22. Aflora
“Ugh, Zeph is in a mood,”Ella groaned as we finished our fourth lap around the courtyard. He’d started today’s class with cardio fitness, claiming it would help fire us up for whatever defensive spells he had in store.
But I agreed with Ella. Zeph was just doing this to be cruel. “It’s too hot for this.”
“I know,” she panted, grabbing her water bottle off the ground and downing half of it in one go. “I swear the moon is really a sun in this place, because fuck, it’s burning up out here.”
All the exploding burning thwomps nearby didn’t help.
Zeph blew hard on his whistle, calling everyone in and pairing us off like he did for each class. Kols joined me in his sweats and sleeveless shirt, looking refreshed despite our heavy warm-up. “He’s being a dick,” he muttered.
“I know.” I just didn’t know why. We hadn’t seen each other since my independent study day that he’d ended early. That was five days ago. Usually, I saw him at least once during our break days, but he’d either left the Academy or avoided me the entire time. I suspected it might be the latter since he wouldn’t even look at me today.
He stood with his arms folded in the center of the courtyard, his legs braced, as he explained today’s exercise in an emotionless tone.
“Playing with familiars,” Shade mused when Zeph was done, his arm brushing mine as he moved to stand beside me. “This part should be new to you, yes?” He didn’t wait for me to reply, instead adding, “I wonder what’s going to show up to protect you. Maybe a pretty flower?”
“Attack me and find out,” I taunted.
As I’d practiced the conjuring spell last night during my preparations for today’s class, I already knew what would arrive to defend me. And I’d love to watch it claw Shade’s eyes out after the dream he’d inflicted upon me last night. I could still feel the scrape of his teeth taunting the flesh between my thighs. And I hated how just the image of it had me clenching my limbs, my arousal mounting all over again.
For as much as I loathed him, Shade knew how to use his tongue.
At least in the mental visions he continued to force upon me.
I asked him last night if it was all just for show, a fantasy he created to live through since his reality didn’t measure up. He’d taken that as a challenge to drive me mad, and he’d thoroughly succeeded.
“Mmm, you do know. Now I’m intrigued,” he said, referring to my taunt.
“You’re paired with Stiggis,” Kols reminded him. “So fuck off.”
“Sadly, Stiggis isn’t in class today. Some sort of family emergency involving Cordelia. Tragic, I’m sure. Anyway, I came over to play with my little rose instead,” Shade replied.
“She’s my partner, Shade. Find someone else to irritate.”
“Hmm, maybe I should just join you both,” Shade suggested, a grin in his voice. “Unless you’re afraid it might be too much for her to handle, what with the sensations and all that.” I flinched at his suggestive tone and the way his icy blue eyes glimmered with knowledge.
“I—”
“Stop fucking around,” Zeph interjected, cutting me off. “Shade, work with Kols. I’ll handle Aflora’s lesson for today.” He grabbed me by the elbow, leading me away before either male could reply.
I twisted out of his grip when we came to a stop in the corner of the courtyard and lifted a brow. “Is everything all right?”
“We’re not here to chat,” he snapped. “Take out your wand and perform the spell so I can see how much I need to correct before the next exercise.”
Right, someone’s in jerk mode. An ivy plant must have crawled up his butt this morning and latched on.
Not wanting to pry or make things even more uncomfortable between us, I pulled out my wand and muttered the incantation. A gorgeous bird with black and white feathers swooped down from the sky to land beside me, its yellow-and-black beak parting to release a sound of welcome.
I smiled at the beautiful creature. “Good morning to you, too, my darling Clove.” I bent to run a finger along her soft feathers, having named her last night. She blinked big obsidian eyes at me, then leaned into my touch, her only confirmation of comfort.
“A falcon,” Zeph mused, eyeing my familiar. “I would have expected a snail or something else slow and easy to kill, not a bird of prey.”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “I’m not easy to kill.”
He snorted. “Yeah. You are.” He had his wand out in a flash, the same spell murmured beneath his breath to call his own animal protector to life.
I jumped as a slithering snake appeared, its tail long and as thick as my wrist. But it was the heads that grabbed my focus. There were three of them, all split at the proverbial snake neck—if a snake even had such a thing.
My falcon shifted, noticing my unease, the feathers along the wings beginning to flutter with power as the wings flexed outward. “Your familiar is a snake?” I asked, taking an unsteady step backward.
“Obviously.”
The black and green scales began to move as the snake slithered toward me, three sets of beady red eyes seeming to glare at my existence. “I don’t think it likes me,” I whispered, sliding back another few inches.
“It’s my familiar, not yours,” he replied, folding his arms. “He senses how I feel and acts accordingly.”
Which meant his three-headed creation would be in a similar mood to his master.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I said, eyeing the murderous glare coming from his familiar. Zeph might maintain a bored exterior, but inside, he appeared to be furious over something.
And that fury was definitely being reflected in his pet snake as it slithered toward me.
My falcon bristled again, letting out a warning caw of a sound that scattered goose bumps down my arms.
“Zeph,” I whispered.
“Headmaster Zephyrus,” he returned, his tone dripping ice. His snake hissed in response, the three heads echoing the sentiment and causing Clove to screech angrily.
I jumped backward, the two animals lunging for one another at the same time and squabbling across the ground.
“Stop!” I demanded, trying to pull the slithering monster off my falcon. It had all three sets of mouths latched onto different points, its tail wrapping around the body to squeeze as Clove’s talons dug into the scaly rope and tried to use its beak to pierce the slimy beast.
It all happened so fast, the animals quick and sharp and deadly.
They rolled across the courtyard, horrible sounds wrenching from my falcon’s throat as Zeph’s hideous creation threatened to destroy her. “Make them stop!” I begged him, tears pouring from my eyes. But he merely watched the show with a disinterested expression, his green irises as dead as his soul.
No wonder he created something so vile.
It represented him so completely.
To be able to stand there and watch his pet destroy my beautiful falcon without a care in the world.
Her cries slowly died, a piece of my heart seeming to break off and wither away with her.
I fell to my knees, the weight of devastation crushing me beneath a wave of desolation. The textbook didn’t talk about this, only commented on the resolute loyalty of our familiars and how they will protect us to their dying breath.
Clove’s obsidian eyes met mine with a final blink, her grief at having failed me so palpable that I cried out in anguish. “Please,” I whispered, reaching for her and unable to do a damn thing because I didn’t know how to help her. How to stop this. How to kill that sickly three-headed thing destroying my beloved creation.
“You’re pitiful,” Zeph said, his voice cold and remorseless. “Just like your familiar.” His snake gave a victorious twist, and Clove’s body went limp, her eyes falling closed.
I covered my mouth to hold back a sob, the sight before me destroying my will to breathe.
What was the point in inspiring life just to have it taken away so coldly?
The monster refocused on me, those lethal eyes glowing with malicious intent.
“What will you do now?” Zeph asked. “Run away? Build a fortress of flowers to hide behind?”
I didn’t reply, my grief suffocating my ability to move. How could you? I wanted to ask him. Why did you do this to me? What lesson are you trying to teach me?
The snake slithered off my dead familiar, pinpoints of evil watching me with obvious intent.
I just held its gaze, waiting for the inevitable. Even if I knew a spell that could hurt the creature, I wouldn’t use it. “I don’t take lives. I create them,” I whispered to it, defeated and broken. “So do what you must.”
“That’s why you won’t survive in this world,” Zeph replied, his voice dark with some unspoken emotion. “There’s no one here who will protect you. Only yourself. And without the will to survive, you’ll merely perish.”
I swallowed thickly, his words battering my already destroyed heart. “Better to perish than to become a monster.” I met his gaze and found death staring back at me from his dark green depths. “A monster like you,” I added, finally seeing him for the first time.
Whatever demons he harbored, I wanted nothing to do with them.
If he wanted to break me with this exercise, he’d succeeded, but not in the way he probably intended.
“Killing and hurting others isn’t the only way to survive,” I told him, pushing to my feet and ignoring his bristling pet. If that thing wanted to attack me, so be it. I wouldn’t fight back, at least not in the way Zeph anticipated. Instead, I’d go about it my way—by undoing his spell. Maybe I’d tame a new pet in the process. Or maybe I’d die trying.
At this point, what did it matter?
I turned on my heel, leaving him behind.
He called my name. I ignored him.
He shouted after me. I stopped listening.
Several students watched me leave the courtyard. I didn’t acknowledge any of them.
I’m done, I thought. I just want to go home.