CHAPTER 13 #3
He kept coming, and it took all of my strength not to run, to hide.
“Answer me.”
The sharp command loosened my tongue, and I burst out, “Yes.”
His hands formed tight fists, his gaze unrelenting. “The other students are afraid of you, including the professors. It’s why they act the way they do toward you. They fear what you could do to them.”
I stopped breathing as he halted inches away, forcing my neck to crane back. He lowered his head until our faces were a hair’s breadth apart, the closest he’d been to me in weeks. His heat wafted over me, along with his wild scent, making my heart thunder erratically.
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret, Snowflake,” he rumbled in an octave so low that it vibrated his chest. “Fear is what keeps you alive in a place like this. Fear is what gives you control. But if you allow that fear to control you, you’re dead.
Yes, I’m afraid of you, but not in the way you think.
I fear you like a mortal fears a venomous snake.
I’d be stupid not to. But I don’t let that fear control me, unlike you. ”
“I . . . I don’t—”
“Don’t lie to yourself, Snowflake,” he snapped, cutting me off. “You’re afraid of me and my magic, which is smart. It’s called self-preservation. But you’re also afraid of yourself and your own magic. You’re afraid of that most of all, so much so that you’ve allowed fear to paralyze you.”
I stared at him unblinking, shocked that he’d figured me out so completely.
He might as well have just shined a spotlight on the deepest, darkest parts of me.
I couldn’t run anymore, couldn’t hide. He knew me.
Knew me. So well that there was no point in denying his words.
He’d only see them for the lie they were.
When it was clear that he’d found the root of my hesitation, something in his expression shifted. For the first time in weeks, cold cruelty didn’t stare back at me. It had softened into something new, an emotion I never expected him to direct toward me.
Empathy.
“Train with me, Snowflake,” he quietly said without any of the usual bite. “Turn your fear into a weapon. Use it to aid you, not control you. I won’t ask again.”
More like demanded, but at least he was demanding politely.
Still, I couldn’t give him what he wanted, no matter how much I wished to. Not with magic like mine.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, watching with a sinking heart as that coldness returned.
“Then we’re done here,” he said, each word like chips of ice. “I can’t help someone who won’t help themselves. This is your last warning, Snowflake. Leave, or you will die.”
He straightened and brushed past, obviously done with me. But as he stormed away, the blood in my veins froze, horror gripping me when I replayed his last words.
“Leave, or you will die.”
Leave or die.
Leave. Or. Die.
“It was you,” I breathed, turning around. Thorne slowed, then stopped dead when I said more loudly, “It was you.”
My accusation slapped through the air, and he pivoted to face me once more. One look at his expression, and I knew that I was right.
“How could you?” I said, my voice shaking as a slew of emotions rose up. I didn’t bother hiding them, wanting, needing him to see just how betrayed I felt. “I was terrified by that bloody message on my mirror. It made me lose sleep for weeks!”
He stared at me, taking in my anger, my hurt. “Winter—”
“No!” I snapped, balling my trembling hands into fists. “You don’t get to finally say my name just because you were caught. What you did was beyond spiteful. You have no idea how . . . how scared I’ve been.”
As soon as I admitted the words, I wished I could take them back. It was just one more truth, one more weakness he could use against me.
“I admit, I left the message to scare you into leaving,” he said, and somehow hearing the confession out loud was ten times worse.
“I didn’t want to mentor you or be near you.
I still don’t, and I still don’t think you’ll make it out of here alive.
But I stopped Blaze’s attack in your Conjuring class and again in the infirmary.
I could have stood by and let him kill you, but I didn’t. ”
Shock sliced through me once more. He had been the one to block that fireball from incinerating me? Him and not Professor Seacrest? The admission was clearly meant to appease me, to smooth my prickly feathers, but screw that.
Marching toward him, beyond done trying to keep things civil between us, I spat, “Do you want an award, Head Prefect? You only stopped those attacks to save face, to protect your precious reputation. You yourself admitted that winning is all you care about, that my failure will reflect poorly on your leadership skills. You’re doing all of this for you, not for me.
You’re stuck with me, and you hate it. You hate me. Admit it!”
“I do hate you!” he roared, freezing me in my tracks.
“And I hate you!” I roared back, hating that my eyes had begun to burn.
Anger, so much anger sparked in his eyes, but it was far better than stone-cold nothingness.
The heat pouring off him was palpable, mixing with mine.
And for one sadistic, unhinged moment, I didn’t feel completely alone anymore.
We were equally mad, equally hurt, equally hateful.
It didn’t make any sense, but knowing that he felt the same as me made all of this a little more bearable.
We stared at each other for a long beat, the tension between us supercharged. Then, without a word, he whirled and stormed off again.
It was the last straw.
A furious cry erupted from me, and so did my magic. As I felt it start to leave me, I raised my hand. Not toward Thorne, but toward the treeline several yards off. Like a whip, the dark magic sliced through the air, striking its target with deadly accuracy.
I froze. So did Thorne.
We both looked to the trees at the same time, just as a stout pine groaned and cracked, toppling over to hit the ground with a resounding boom.
I stared. Stared and stared.
Silence descended over the clearing again, until Thorne slowly turned to me and said, “Feel better?”
I blinked. Blinked again. Then murmured, “Yes.”
“Good,” he said, the slightest hint of satisfaction in his voice as he turned to leave again. “Then we’ll meet back here tomorrow.”