Chapter 7 Evira
~Evira~
“Wow,” Zayn breathed, taking in my dorm room.
“I’ve got a couple of friends here who have these giant suites, but it’s still always a surprise when I step into one.
The size difference, a whole seating area, even the décor being fancier.
” His gaze flicked to mine. “So, what’s the deal with this? How’d you end up with it?”
“It’s not because I’m Crown Heir,” I basically snapped.
He held up his hands. “Message received. I never suggested that.”
“Why not? It’s what most people think. I’ve heard whisperings. Especially in the Cafeteria, which seems to be gossip central.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, it is. But intel can be found there.” He winked. “Keep that in mind.”
“This bigger space is because I’m… stupidly claustrophobic. Sometimes it can get really bad.”
“Why is that stupid? It’s a legit medical condition.”
“It is, but I guess… it’s like when people equate actual anxiety to mere shyness.”
“Ah, got it. Dumbass judgment from dumbass fuckers.”
I laughed. “Yeah.”
He walked to me. “Personally, I try to save the whole jumping-to-conclusions thing for when I’m hopped up on one of my rages.” He stopped just a foot from me. “So, how does it work with this miraculous cure to my frostbite from hell?”
“It’s actually a form of Cryogenic Frostfire.”
He jerked back a step, then hastily shoved up his sleeve to look at the site of the wound “That’s what this shit is?”
“You’ve heard of it?”
“More like been told scary bedtime stories about it.”
I winced. “I’m so sorry.”
He swung his head back toward me. “Why are you sorry?”
“My interference did this.”
“It was that shithead, Keuric. Your interference might have created a flare of it, obviously lowering the temperature significantly, but if you hadn’t intervened…
” He lowered his voice, even though I’d privacy-warded the space when we’d walked in here.
He even looked around all paranoid, before settling his attention back on me.
“I couldn’t hold my fire against him. Okay?
He was gonna hit me. Brutally. And taking it straight through the chest would’ve been far more damaging than this arm situation over a small surface area. ”
“Oh. I didn’t pick up on that at all.”
He lifted a shoulder. “I’m a good actor.”
I frowned. “The potency of your power in class… you’re strong enough to hold the likes of Keuric at bay.”
“Well, I was, perhaps, a little drunk. And when I’m upset—I’m talking the sad kind of upset, not rage—it can sometimes…
weaken my power.” He walked to my snowy-white furry couch and stroked it.
“Damn, this is so soft.” He threw himself down on it.
“Amazing. It’s beyond comfortable.” As his eyes darted all over the room, taking in the pictures on the wall and smiling, then some of my personal effects, I saw his gaze freeze on the bed.
I knew exactly what he’d spotted.
Oh, no.
He sprung back to his feet and darted over there.
I went to stop him, but he bounced out of my reach.
He was like an excitable puppy right now.
I guess he was on a high from our victory in class earlier. Our waterfall had turned out amazing, and both the professor and Carnis had been significantly impressed.
Or maybe this was how Zayn always got after he’d come down from one of his rages.
He bounded onto my bed and snatched up Nuvri.
“Who is this?” he teased, moving the right paw, and making a growling cub-like sound. “Who am I, Evira? Tell this hot babe of an Ifrit in your room.”
“Stop,” I cried, unable to hold back a laugh.
“Come on, what is it?” he pushed, grinning from ear to ear.
I rolled my eyes. “His name is Nuvri. In Draconic Tongue it means warmth beneath ice. It’s a long story, but basically, my best friend gave him to me for comfort.”
His expression softened. “That’s really cute.”
I snatched Nuvri from him. “Cute, yeah. Just don’t spread it around.”
“Ah, got it. The ice dragon princess can’t be seen as a softie.”
As I put Nuvri back in his place in the center of the pillows, I slapped Zayn’s shoulder. “Shut it.”
He laughed and rolled off the bed, then bounced back to his feet.
“Stay,” I told him, closing the distance between us. “Sit down right there on the foot of the bed. Let’s see to this healing.”
He sat down without a word of protest.
I wasn’t sure if it was his curiosity getting the best of him as to what this process entailed, or the fact that I was now right up in his space—I could hear his pulse picking up.
I settled down beside him and gestured for him to hold his right arm out.
As he shifted, I cradled it.
“This is going to be intense, okay? You really need to brace yourself for that.”
“Like, more pain to ease existing pain? That sort of thing?”
“Nope. Definitely not pain.”
His eyes widened. “Huh.”
“Yeah. So, if you want me to stop at any time, just make it known, and I will. Right away.”
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Well, are you ready for that? It’s gonna impact you too, right?”
“I’m not the one being healed.”
“I meant my reactions to it. You’ve already demonstrated how attuned you are to other beings, so if this is that intense, you’re gonna feel stuff too in that way.”
“I… I’ll be fine.”
“If you’re sure, because you’re barely more than a virgin where sexuality is concerned, right?”
“Can we not get into that?”
“You saying that is kind of like not wanting to talk about hard limits before engaging in some BDSM shit.”
“Are you serious? This isn’t anything like that.”
“Perhaps to a near-virgin it is. Intensity-wise anyway.”
“I’ll be fine, Zayn. I know what I’m getting into. You didn’t, that’s why I explained it—or tried to before you went off on a BDSM and near-virgin commentary.”
“Fine, icicle,” he said, as he flopped onto his back on the bed, still holding his arm out to me.
I shook my head at him, unable to stop a grin from breaking through.
Then I drew in a breath and leaned down, hovering my lips over his wound.
He went utterly still. “Oh, that’s how you’re gonna—”
His words caught in his throat as I licked along the harmed skin, calling forth my power.
I was only just through the first swipe when he started moaning out.
I kept going, focusing as I carefully slicked my tongue over the wound.
“Fuck… oh fuck!” he started crying out, bucking on the bed, pulling at the sheets with his free hand, and struggling to keep his arm that I was working on steady.
“Ungh… that feels… don’t stop! Fuck, baby, you can heal me any time! Ah! Ah!”
I blinked, struggling to keep going while he was reacting so strongly. Like, beyond what I’d even thought.
I saw his dick harden against his pants. He tugged at his shirt, fisting it.
Then he startled me as he brazenly grabbed his dick and started working it even with the fabric in the way.
I couldn’t take my eyes off it for several moments. I’d never seen a man… do that in this way before. So… out there. So in-your-face. I mean, no, not literally. Although, the idea of that right now actually seemed hot as fuck.
Stop. Get control.
I looked away and focused on the damaged skin, noting that it was healing very well now.
Almost completely done.
The marks were just a couple more licks away from fading entirely and he’d be good to go.
I licked up and down, trailing along the path of the remaining damage, covering every micro-inch carefully. Leaving any part untouched would result in him still suffering from pain flare-ups.
I swirled my tongue after the final lick, then raised my head and looked out at him again.
He was panting, his burning and hooded eyes fixed on mine.
Son of a bitch.
The intensity he was sending my way was out of this world.
I could barely breathe through it.
I knew as soon as I’d finished the healing, what he’d been feeling had worn off instantly.
The fact he was looking at me like this now when it was over… it wasn’t about that.
It was real.
I swallowed hard and only just managed to speak. “You’re healed. Good to go.”
I released his arm and he let it drop down on the bed beside him.
He didn’t move, just staring at me.
My gaze flicked to his tented pants. He’d ceased working his cock, his hand in a stilled state around it now.
“Mind using that Chill Blast, baby? Just a fucking little, though.”
“My… what for?”
He raised his now healed arm and pointed at his dick. “Some assistance cooling down would be great right about now. It can take a while if I hit a certain intensity level… an aggravating Ifrit thing. And I don’t want to be walking the corridors tenting my pants.”
“Isn’t that the norm for you?”
He grinned. “Ah, back to discussing my whorish ways, are we? And no, it’s not the norm.
For one, anything that goes down is inside my dorm room so I’m never walking the halls.
And I might be a bold, theatrical shithead, but there are actually certain things that I don’t put on display to the whole fucking world—or campus. Who and how I fuck being one of them.”
“Is that so?” I asked, standing up and toeing off my furry boots. With a snap of my fingers, I had them standing neatly by the door.
He followed my every move as I sat back down on the bed beside where he was still chilling on his back. I inched right up against him, then batted his hand off his dick.
“Let me see.”
“What?”
“Take it out. Let me see.”
He unbuckled his belt and popped his pants, and then I was taking in the sight of his bare dick, raging hard and desperately erect.
I reached out and ran my fingers up his shaft, and he sucked in a harsh breath.
“I can’t use that ability on you. Unless our power is perfectly balanced, you’ll be hurt. And I really don’t think being hurt here, of all places, is what you want.”
“Then what are you—”
I dipped my head and flicked my tongue at the underside of his crown.
He bucked and threw out his hand, snagging my arm. “Fuck, baby.”
I lifted my head. “Just so you know, I’m not exactly an expert when it comes to this.”
“You’re telling me you’ve never played with a cock before?”
“Yeah.”