CHAPTER 12 #2
“You can’t hide forever, you coward!” he roared after me. “You’re mine, do you hear me? Mine.”
Professor Holt shouted something at him, but the words were lost to me.
I was already gone, slipping from the classroom and out into the hall, escaping the havoc I’d just wreaked like a guilty thief.
The second I was out of sight, I released the shadows and ran.
I didn’t know where I was going, only that I needed to get far, far away.
From the chaos. From Blaze. From myself.
But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t escape who I was. I’d kept it bottled up. I’d ignored it. I’d done everything I could think of to deny its existence. But it was still there. Still waiting in the darkness. Still anticipating the moment when I’d slip up, when I accidentally set it free.
And I had. I’d really screwed up this time.
How could I face anyone after that epic disaster?
It was two years ago all over again, and I couldn’t breathe.
Couldn’t cope as the awful memories started to crowd back in, painfully reminding me of why I’d chosen not to send in my application to Heartstone in the first place.
Somehow, I managed to stumble into one of the bathrooms without anyone seeing me.
My chest was on fire, the memories plunging me into a downward spiral of panic and despair.
I fell against the sink counter, gripping it for dear life as I shook like a leaf.
Drowning, unable to find relief with even a single shed tear, I lifted my heavy head and stared into the mirror.
The pale girl in it stared back, her equally pale eyes wide with desperation and guilt, so much guilt.
“Oh, Jewel,” I choked out, watching my face crumple in abject misery. “I never should have come here. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for f-failing you, for everything.”
Strangled gasps left me as I struggled for air, the pain in my chest less than I deserved.
I didn’t know how much time passed, but the pain eventually faded enough for me to breathe again.
The guilt remained, though. It never went away, forever haunting me lest I forget the grave sins I’d committed.
I’d just dampened a paper towel to clean the cut on my cheek when the bathroom door burst open, smacking the wall with a bang.
I whirled, my spine snapping straight when Thorne stormed inside, heading straight for me.
In an instant, he had me pinned against the counter, a sharp zap lighting up my insides as his arms brushed against mine.
He trapped me between them, his hands coming down to grip the counter on either side of me.
The rest of his body didn’t touch mine, but his face. Ancestors save me, his face was inches away, so close to mine that all I could see—all I could smell—was him.
“Do you have a death wish?” he bit out, his hot breath hitting my face and stirring my hair.
I struggled to swallow, leaning back on the counter as much as possible. The bare inch of space between our faces felt charged, electric. I could practically hear it crackling.
“Answer me!” he snapped, making me flinch.
Yes.
“No,” I replied, my voice too quiet. Too subdued.
His eyes noticeably darkened, hardened. He didn’t believe me. Still, he said, “Then why the hell did you run from that fight?”
I blinked. Seriously? He was angry that I’d run, not that my magic had injured people?
Too drained to dredge up my own anger and disgust, I reached up to push him back.
His chest was rock hard, the muscles firm and unrelenting.
Not in the mood to marvel at his strength—or the fact that I was touching him—I pushed harder, shoved.
He might as well be made of stone for all the good it did.
“Let me go,” I demanded, my voice a little stronger than before.
But not enough. Not nearly enough.
One of his hands let go of the counter. Before I could take advantage of the escape route, he flashed that hand up and caught my chin.
I jerked back in shock and broke his hold, then scrambled to make my escape.
He stopped me in an instant, wrapping that hand around my neck instead, my throat.
As his fingers squeezed, hard enough to cut off my air, I froze, my eyes flying wide.
Was this it, then? Had I finally made him snap?
Fear pumped through me as I stared into the depths of those fierce blue eyes, knowing that he could end my life in a split second.
But there was a feeling of relief too, one I couldn’t seem to quell every time this man held my life in his hands.
It would be easy, so easy for him to take it.
I couldn’t deny that a part of me still wanted him to.
“Do it,” I whispered aloud, even though I hadn’t meant to.
His gaze dropped to my traitorous lips, darkening even more. “Don’t tempt me,” he rumbled back, the words warming my mouth.
His fingers spasmed on my throat, further digging into the vulnerable flesh before sliding up to my jaw.
Firming his grip again, he forcibly turned my head to the side and picked up the discarded paper towel from the counter.
As he raised it to my face, I stopped breathing, preparing for the pain.
But unlike the unyielding hold he still had on my jaw, the swipe across my injured cheek was soft. Gentle.
“The cut is too deep,” he said after a moment. “It’ll scar if you don’t take Sano.”
My skin hummed, warming beneath his touch.
It was suddenly all I could feel, making the pain disappear.
Flustered, I tried to pull away again. This time, he let me, finally dropping his arms and straightening.
I looked everywhere but at him, more confused than ever when I noticeably felt colder at the absence of his touch.
He could have strangled me. Hell, he’d been tempted to. So why did I suddenly feel . . . disappointed?
Great. I really did have a death wish.
Before I could sort out my messy feelings, he tossed the bloodied paper towel in the trash and headed for the door, muttering, “Let’s go.”
I stiffened all over. “What? No. I’m not going out there yet. I just . . . I need a few more minutes to clean up.”
He stopped dead in his tracks, then slowly turned around again.
I met his gaze and immediately regretted it, realizing that I’d once again pissed him off.
Ever so slowly, he came toward me, each movement controlled, coiled—like a prowling predator who’d trapped his prey.
He came and came, filling my world with only him once more.
Only when he was inches away, when his closeness forced me to tip my head way back in order to maintain eye contact, did he finally stop and quietly grit out, “Do you think you’re special, Snowflake?
Do you think I care that you’re embarrassed to be seen with an injury your own magic inflicted?
Well, guess again. You’re not the damsel in distress here, and I’m most definitely not your knight in shining armour.
I only care about winning, something I can’t do if you run and hide every time you’re afraid.
So I’ll say it one more time before I drag you out of here. Let’s. Go.”
As his threat washed over me, any lingering warmth I might have felt from his touch vanished.
A cold, albeit quiet fury took its place, so potent that it took everything in me not to spit in his face.
Instead, I wiped my expression clean of all emotion, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing how upset his words made me.
He stared at me for another beat, then turned for the door again. Curling my trembling hands into fists, I followed after him, my fury growing with each step.
I hate you, I threw at his back as he exited the bathroom, the only words in my head for the next several minutes.
Every time we went down another hallway.
I hate you. Every time we climbed another set of stairs.
I hate you. Every time we passed by an ogling student. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.
By the time we reached our destination, my mood was so dark that I could have strangled him.
Realizing that he’d taken me to the infirmary didn’t make me feel any better.
He only wanted to erase the cut on my face before it scarred, because a scar represented failure, and failure was not an option for his little student.
But when we entered the wing, I noticed with a sinking heart that I wasn’t the only injured one who needed Sano. Several first years were milling about, all of them from my Amplifying class. Fresh guilt battered me when I saw how many had been cut by my magic.
“There she is!”
The sound of someone charging toward us had my gaze flicking down the aisle.
At the sight of Blaze, my heart dropped into my stomach.
He was coming right at me like a bull, murder burning in his eyes.
Before I could do anything, before I could so much as blink, a wall of pure muscle slid in front of me, blocking my view of him.
“Out of my way, Prefect,” Blaze growled, too incensed to taper his sharp tone.
I peeked around my unexpected shield as Blaze ground to a halt less than a foot away, the veins protruding from his neck.
Thorne was a few inches taller, but Blaze was built like the Hulk.
Not that size really mattered in our world when it came to strength.
Some of the most powerful witches in history were my size or smaller.
Still, Blaze looked ready to punch Thorne if he didn’t move soon.
“Back off, McGrath,” Thorne ordered, his quiet tone laced with authority. “You’re not touching her while I’m here.”
“Then leave,” Blaze snarled back. “She attacked me. Her blood is mine.”
“And you attacked her first. I’d call that evening the score,” Thorne replied with bite.
Blaze’s eyes narrowed, his mouth twisting into a leer. “Oh, I see. You’re protecting the stray now. What changed? Did she start sucking your dick or something?”