Chapter 8 #2
She stormed over to him as he spluttered and tried to push back to his feet with trembling arms, fingers digging into the grass for purchase.
He didn’t make it in time, and then she was there fisting her hand in his hair and yanking him up to his knees with her very impressive strength.
She used the hold to yank his head back, forcing his stunned—and terrified—gaze to hers.
“I forgot the other part. Kneel.” She snarled at him ferociously. “Kneel, whore.”
“Damn straight,” I heard Zayn comment beside me.
This was growing dangerous.
And the inflicting of such pain… as despicable as Keuric Glastor was… there were other ways to deal with this sort of thing.
“Evira!” I called.
She swung her head toward me and glared.
Rather viciously.
She was too far gone. She wouldn’t stop now without being forced to. And I wouldn’t do that.
I grimaced, but gave a nod, indicating that I wouldn’t interfere.
With a sigh, I swept my shadows around the immediate area to block the visual of this brutal beatdown from anyone nearby—especially the faculty.
“Good call,” Zayn said, when I was done erecting the encircling wall. “Let her get it all out. I know you don’t like the brutality or other people hurting ever, but she’s fucking earned this, Win.”
“It’s not about earning it, not about earning violence,” I told him, just as we watched Evira haul Keuric into a rockery and utterly decimate it.
He was bloodied, bones clearly broken, and spluttering to draw in a steady breath.
Even crawling in a futile attempt to evade more of her assault was too much for him.
I looked away and continued on to Zayn, “It’s that she clearly needs this. And it’s not my call or yours to intervene and take that from her.”
I saw him understanding me. “Yeah.” Then he called out to Evira, “Just make sure you stop shy of killing him, baby! Win’s not allowed to death-tether yet or do any kind of resurrecting shit, so we can’t bring him back from the dead and that will lead to a whole lot of—”
“Really?” I cut in.
“Well, she needs to know the deal, doesn’t she?”
“That’s not what I—forget it.”
“That’s what you’re trying to do, isn’t it? Since you arrived here? Since that night in the restaurant bathroom stall between us?”
I tensed. “What?”
“Trying to forget me. Trying to forget what was between us.”
“Are you actually speaking these words? And even doing it while looking lovelorn?”
“Look, I know that I—”
“And now Evira?”
“That’s no slight toward you. It just… happened.”
I studied him closely.
“I swear it, Win. I wouldn’t do that to hurt you. Evira has nothing to do with—”
“I believe you.”
“You do?”
“About that, yes. About her. You and her actually makes a great deal of sense. And it’s good for her.” I grunted as I admitted. “And for you.”
“So we’re—”
“Good? Are you really asking me that? After everything?”
“Win, listen, I—”
“You cast me aside. Repeatedly. Even that last time we spent together. Then when I got here, you made a show of putting your hands all over your lovers in front of me and demonstrating just how open for business you are.”
“I did that last part because you didn’t even acknowledge me when you got here!”
“You… are you a child?”
“I’m a year older than you. But… yeah… you know I’m not perfect.”
“Well, I guess that absolves you of everything then, doesn’t it?”
He shoved his hand through his hair. “That’s not what I’m saying or—argh!” He tugged at the pink strands, starting to pace.
“Yes. Please go right on ahead, Z. Fly into a rage. That will most definitely help this discussion along.”
“I’m not flying into a rage,” he said, sucking in a couple of harsh breaths. “But while we’re on that track, your sarcasm isn’t exactly gonna help either.”
I stared at him. “Nothing will.”
Our gazes clashed and I saw his upset there.
Normally that would undo me.
But I couldn’t allow it anymore.
“It’s clear that it’s not just toxic, which is bad enough, but it’s twisting me up, turning me into something… someone… I don’t want to be.”
Those words of mine to my dad ran through my head.
I absolutely didn’t want to be that person, to become somebody else because of this madness with Zayn.
“He isn’t willing to give anything, only to take. And it’s hurting you.”
My dad had been right about that.
And once you saw the reality of a situation independent of the excuses you made for it, you couldn’t unsee it.
I stepped away from him. “Make sure she really doesn’t kill him, or we will have to call my dad here. And, believe me, you don’t want that right now.”
It wasn’t just that. As if I’d allow somebody to be killed on my watch.
I also knew that Evira didn’t have it in her to take this thing that far.
But I wanted Zayn to be alert and to be in the frame of mind now to hang back and not inject chaos into the situation, a situation that belonged to Evira and that she needed to handle solo for her own peace of mind.
He grimaced. “He’s still pissed at me about that fleshlight thing?”
I didn’t dignify that with an answer, gesturing at my shadows instead. “They’ll hold for another ten minutes. Before they dissipate, teleport the bastard to his dorm so he can heal and nobody sees him in a state.”
“Win,” he urged, reaching out to me.
I jerked back further. “I need to get to class.”
With that, I disappeared in a swirl of my shadows.
I smiled down at my phone as I sat at a single-person desk at the back of my Grimoire Creation class waiting for it to commence.
Fortunately, I’d been afforded twenty minutes before the scheduled time of this class wherein I’d been able to come down from the intensity of what had happened by the lake.
That coming down had been assisted by Evira sending me a text to assure me that all was well, that Keuric was healing in his dorm room and still breathing, and that Zayn hadn’t worsened the situation with any sort of rage outburst either.
And she was okay.
Not just okay, but she felt better having done that.
Plus, the threat that Keuric had posed to her—and to Zayn with Keuric discovering his erotic connection to her—had been dealt with.
An ice dragon being utterly dominated and brought to his knees by another was no small thing to their species.
It would’ve definitely… recalibrated things between them.
I grimaced and swallowed all of that down again, focusing instead on the other messages that had come in since the moment I’d walked into this class.
Vax: Beautiful or little death. Which do you prefer?
Winter: I’ll take either.
Vax: Little death, then?
Winter: Why ask if you already knew?
Vax: I wanted to see if you would convey your preference.
Winter: Testing me again, hmm?
Vax: Do you agree that you need it?
Winter: Perhaps. I prefer little death.
Vax: Very good boy.
Winter: Although, who doesn’t enjoy being called beautiful? Little death is just more personal.
Vax: You mean, special?
Winter: Yes. And you?
Vax: Your shortening of my name satisfies me. Sweetheart is rather endearing also. Like so much else about you.
Winter: You’re making me blush.
Vax: Then prepare yourself as I would like to invite you to my suite again and I wish to devour your lovely cock.
Jeez.
Vax: Lost for words?
Winter: Visualizing it.
Vax: Me on my knees for you?
Winter: You don’t have to kneel. We can work with another position. I understand the High Lord Heir pride. It’s okay.
Vax: Apparently said pride holds little weight when up against the depth of my desire for you.
Wow. That was unprecedented. Before I could fully process what it meant in context, he sent another text.
Vax: Prior to me devouring your beautiful cock, I would very much like to take you out. Perhaps for a meal? Even a drink? Non-alcoholic, of course, to suit your preferences.
Oh.
My first reaction was to enthusiastically offer up some places, to go all in.
He wanted to draw closer to me, independent of sex. And he was trying to make it clear that this wouldn’t be a replay of the Zayn situation.
But after recent reflections and that conversation with my dad, I’d realized that the dynamic with Zayn and me had existed not just because of Zayn, but because of me as well. I’d also allowed it.
So I couldn’t… I wouldn’t… approach things the same way this time.
I sucked in a breath and typed back.
Winter: Love the idea, but I can’t tonight.
Things had already been progressing incredibly fast as it was.
A step back needed to be taken to… to be emotionally safe.
Vax: Of course.
Winter: In a few days?
Vax: Certainly.
I sighed with relief.
That had gone better than I’d imagined.
I was about to stow my phone away for class, when it buzzed again with another message notification.
Vax: You did it.
I frowned.
Winter: What’s that?
Vax: Made your preference known. Instituted a boundary. Ensured something transpired on your terms for once.
Winter: And that’s just… okay for you? With you?
Vax: It is. I’m proud of you. Keep it up, little death. And enjoy your class also.
Winter: I will. On both counts. Thank you. Enjoy your sparring.
He didn’t have class right now, so he was indulging—his word—in some hand-to-hand combat, which was apparently a hobby of his, as well as a way to remain sharp and battle-ready.
Although he hadn’t spoken to it directly, with what I knew of his species and what we’d discussed concerning the Basilisk people during the party, I suspected his need to always be battle-ready was a result of the persecution and threat they’d suffered through.
The reason behind it was upsetting, but I figured it at least gave him a sense of control.
Not just in the bigger picture sense, but in the fact that he’d been thrown into a foreign environment here at Loxley Academy.
While it was also my first year here, I knew a few people already. He didn’t.