9. Matilda
9
MATILDA
Pressing my palm against the cold stone wall of my room, I close my eyes and frown. Something drew me here, but I don’t know what. A jolt of electricity shoots through me, and I stumble back with a gasp.
“What the hell?” I mutter, shaking out my tingling hand.
There’s definitely someone—or something—powerful on the other side of that wall. My curiosity wars with caution as I debate investigating further. Deciding it’s probably not wise until I’ve finished what I started, I turn back to the blasted bag of illicit jewels. I need to hide this from plain sight in case someone decides to steal it. I will have to decide what to do with it at some point, but clearly Blackthorn doesn’t want it.
I turn from the wall, take aim, and fire.
“Fuck,” I mutter when pink sparks shower down around me, singeing the carpet. The concealment spell backfired spectacularly again, leaving a scorch mark on the wall and the bag of jewels still very much visible on the floor. “Come on, Tilly, you can do this.”
I shake out my hands, trying to focus on my wonky magick. The room Professor Blackthorn assigned me is lovely— all dark wood furniture and deep purple accents—but right now, I’m more concerned about hiding Janice’s contraband before anyone finds it.
Another attempt, another explosion of pink sparks. This time, the magickal backlash makes me stumble backwards until I hit the wall separating my room from the next. The stone feels weirdly warm against my back, almost alive with energy.
“Fucking hell,” I whisper, sliding down to sit on the floor. My magick crackles around me, wild and untamed. It feels different here. Professor Blackthorn’s words about my power being stunted by my family’s abuse echo in my mind. It’s not stronger and just as unpredictable, but it’s like it wants to escape from a prison it was shoved into and locked up tight.
I pull my knees up to my chest, watching the pink sparks dance across my skin. They don’t hurt, they never do, but they’re bloody useless for actual spell work. Back home, this kind of magickal discharge would have earned me a beating. Here... well, I’m not sure what’s normal here.
A soft thump from the other side of the wall makes me freeze. Whoever is in there is probably wondering what the hell is going on in here.
“Get it together,” I mutter, standing up and brushing off my skirt. I need to figure this out before someone comes investigating. The last thing I need is questions about why I’m trying to conceal a bag full of stolen jewels.
I take a deep breath and try one more time, channelling everything I have into the concealment spell. The pink sparks build, swirling around the bag, and for a moment, I think it’s actually going to work.
Then everything explodes in a shower of magickal fireworks.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I exclaim as I’m knocked back onto my arse. The bag remains stubbornly visible, now slightly smoking. But at least nothing’s on fire. Small mercies.
Dragging myself to my feet, I give up for now and shove the bag deep under the bed. Although it strikes me, that is the first place they would look. Maybe I’ll have to ask Draven to help me hide it. That thought sits like a lump of coal in the pit of my stomach. No. I’ll try again later when I’m not so exhausted from everything that’s happened today. From running away from home to having sex with a Prince of Hell in his car to being accepted into MistHallow. It’s a lot, and it’s all catching up with me.
After making sure the door is locked, I strip off and pad across the gorgeously soft carpet to the en-suite shower room. It’s small, but it’s mine. Back home, I had to share a bathroom with everyone else, and I was always last—always with no hot water.
Tentatively, I reach into the shower and turn it on, staring at the fancy tap that I guess you slide right or left, depending on how hot or cold you want it. I push it gently to the left and stick my hand under the torrent of water. It warms up quickly, and I step under, used to ten-second showers with freezing cold water.
But this time, it stays warm and, if anything, goes hotter.
I sigh with bliss as I stand there, letting the water fall over me like a scorching hot waterfall of utter perfection.
Tears prick my eyes as I have never felt this before. I’ve never been allowed to experience how absolutely wonderful it is to stand under a hot shower and zone out as it eases tired and aching muscles and clears your mind.
But old habits die hard, and suddenly, I’m jumping into action in case I get told off for using too much of the hot water supply or, worse, forcing someone else to have a cold shower because of my selfishness. I grab the fresh sponge and soap that were neatly laid out for me in the soap dish and clean up quickly. As my hands drift over my pussy, I shiver. Fucking Draven in his car after we’d just met was a bad judgement call on my behalf. But he seems into me, so maybe he doesn’t think I’m a slut or used him for a ride. Or maybe he does think I’m easy, and that’s why he’s sticking around a bit until he finds a proper girl here at MistHallow that he can take home to his mum. His mum, the Devil.
Fuck.
I can still feel her gaze penetrating my soul. It was icy and hot all at the same time, and it felt like a part of me had died inside, withered up under the scrutiny of pure evil.
I shudder and quickly rinse off, turning off the shower and stepping out before my thoughts spiral further. The towel I reach for is thick and fluffy, another luxury I’ve never known. As I dry off, I pause but then inhale deeply. It is the first time in my life I’m not afraid of what’s waiting for me on the other side of the bathroom door.
My rainbow-streaked blonde hair hangs wet down my back as I wrap the towel around myself. I open the door and do a quick scan, but I see that the bedroom is empty.
I’ve never had a pair of pyjamas, so I usually sleep naked. I hated it at home, but here, I don’t feel so vulnerable. But I definitely need to figure out where to get more clothes at some point.
I climb into bed and gasp. The mattress is softer than anything I’ve ever slept on, and the sheets smell fresh and clean. New day, new start tomorrow. Maybe my magick will actually do what it’s supposed to do for once.
But as I snuggle down into the warm, plush bedding, I can’t shake the feeling that nothing about tomorrow is going to be simple. Between Draven’s intensity, whatever that energy was coming through the wall earlier, and extreme nerves about attending classes tomorrow and coming face-to-face with the rest of the students as the new girl, I know I’ve definitely walked into something bigger than just seeking sanctuary at a magickal academy.
I close my eyes, trying to quiet my racing thoughts as Draven’s face fills my dreams.