20. Zair
Zair
The Best News I Never Actually Got
Ireally touched Thea today. Not just a brush of healing magic, not just an accident.
This was different. Undeniable, deliberate.
And I can’t stop thinking about it as I walk to my dorm.
She’s always been careful, painfully careful, not to touch me.
She’s respected the invisible barrier I’ve kept between myself and every other witch at this school.
Every day, we’ve been close enough to touch, and not once has she tried.
And it bothered me.
I know she can curse me. I’ve seen her working on her Advanced Curses homework. If she’s learning that, she could ruin my life with a single touch. It’s irrational. Maybe I’m a masochist because I still want her to touch me.
Today she finally did. Not just once, but over and over.
And I feel like a damn virgin over here with my shorts in a knot.
I should’ve offered something easier for the first time.
I hadn’t fully considered that hand-to-hand combat is basically violent sex.
I tried to go easy on her. She didn’t let me.
When I pinned her, I wanted to do it again.
Then she turned it around, and I liked that even more.
She has strength, heat, and softness in all the right places.
What’s wrong with me? I don’t like witches. I sure as hell don’t sleep with them.
I knew I was attracted to her. I’m not blind; she’s beautiful. Or at least I thought that was the extent of it. But seeing her pin me, breath ragged, cheeks flushed, those green eyes lit with fire, all those neat little rules I had crumbled.
I strip down and do a quick check. No marks.
I hadn’t even thought to do it until I was already naked.
I climb into the shower, trying to focus on anything except how she felt pressed against me.
I fail. The water’s hot but not hot enough.
I stand there too long. She’s still there, on my skin, in my head, lodged under my ribs like a splinter.
I try to rub her out of my system. My legs nearly buckle as I finish. Her name spilling out of my throat, raw and unplanned. Yeah, I know. I’m in deep.
I’m not even dry before my heart’s racing again, just thinking about seeing her at breakfast. Thirty whole minutes since I last saw her.
I throw on jeans and a button-up, pretending routine will somehow make me composed. I go to the cafeteria on autopilot, grabbing a coffee and protein bar. I don’t even glance around for Dylan or Benson. I ditch them. Again.
My focus is on Thea’s booth, but before I can get there, Anita and another witch slide in across from her. Even from across the room, the tension between them sparks in the air.
I look around, unsure what to do next when I spot Mavrik at a booth nearby. His dark hair falls over his eyes and his usual slouch says ‘don’t bother me,’ but his gaze is fixed on Thea and Anita with the same quiet intensity I feel.
Before I can think better of it, I cross the room, sliding into the seat across from him. He meets my eyes, a look of surprise on his face.
“You’re watching them too,” I whisper.
Mavrik’s dark eyes drift to the pair across the room. “It’s hard not to,” he mutters, his tone as flat as ever. “Anita doesn’t sit with people for fun.”
I nod, glancing over at Thea again. She’s scratching at her wrist, her movement small but telling. Anita’s body language has shifted, her words inaudible from this distance but clearly biting. Thea sits rigidly, her face carefully neutral.
“They’re talking about us,” Mavrik says offhand.
My attention snaps to him. “What makes you say that?”
He doesn’t look at me, his gaze still locked on them. “The shadows.”
I stare at him, trying to process. “You’re… listening to them?”
His lips quirk into the faintest smirk. I glance back at Thea and Anita as she leans in closer, her smile razor-thin and predatory.
This is an invasion of her privacy.
“What are they saying?” I ask, leaning forward.
Mavrik hesitates, his fingers tapping softly against the table. “Anita’s baiting her.”
“About what?”
“She’s trying to push her toward you.” He glances at me briefly, his dark eyes searching. “Anita said for her to just walk over and kiss you. But I think she expects you to reject Thea publicly and embarrass her.”
My jaw tightens. “Why would she—”
Before I can finish, Anita stands and crosses the cafeteria, the dark haired witch trailing behind. There’s something familiar about the witch I can’t place. Anita’s gaze lands on us, her lips curving into a sly smile that makes me lose my appetite.
“Well, well, look what we have here,” she says, her voice smooth as she slithers into the space between us. “The golden boy and a shadow lurking behind him. How perfectly fitting. Almost like a story, isn’t it?”
I raise an eyebrow but keep my expression neutral. Mavrik shifts in his seat, irritation obvious in his dark eyes as he looks between the two witches.
“You know,” she continues, her tone dipping low, as if we’re in on some secret she’s about to reveal.
“Thea’s an interesting one, don’t you think?
Always caught between light and dark, never quite fitting in.
She’s drawn to the impossible. The unreachable.
You must see that too, Zair, don’t you? The way she looks at you like you’re her lifeline. It’s sweet, really.”
I want to snap back, to tell her she’s wrong, but I know that would add fuel to the fire. The way she speaks, so effortlessly manipulative, like she’s testing the waters to see just how much she can push.
“Then again, Thea always liked pretty things,” she continues. “But I’m sure that’s not why she’s drawn to you.”
I can feel the tension building, a tight knot in my chest. My silence seems to amuse her, though, because she turns to Mavrik with that same cruel smile.
“And you,” she says, voice laced with mock sweetness. “I can’t quite figure you out. What does she see? A mystery to solve? Or just another shadow to hide in when the light gets too bright? What do you think, Mavis?”
Mavis, Mavrik. I look between them and it becomes apparent that they’re siblings.
“Shadows have a way of swallowing people whole.” There’s something so cold in Mavis’s voice. “Probably better to keep them away from anyone you care about.”
Mavrik’s jaw tightens. Anita leans in slightly, her eyes locking onto his with a vulturine focus. “Be careful, I’d hate to see Thea disappear into yours.”
The air around us grows frigid as a chill creeps down my spine. Neither of us says anything in response. There’s nothing for us to say. She’s landed a perfect shot aimed at our fears. She straightens, smoothing out her blouse with practiced ease, as though wiping away all the anxiety she’s created.
“Just some friendly advice,” she says, a glint of satisfaction dancing in her eyes. “After all, we all want what’s best for Thea, don’t we?”
Without waiting for a response, they both leave. The faint scent of perfume lingers in the air. I roll up my sleeves and do a quick mark check even though she didn’t touch me. I look up and see Mavrik watching me.
“Paranoid?” he asks, then takes off his jacket and checks his arms.
“Do I even want to know what she said to you?” Thea asks, sitting down next to Mavrik.
“That you only like Zair because you’re power-hungry,” Mavrik tells her, and I snap my attention to him, disbelief flooding my system.
“Mavrik doesn’t have a filter,” Thea says with a smile, as if it’s no big deal. “Never ask him a question unless you want the answer with a hundred percent honesty.”
“Well, then yes, that’s pretty much what Anita said,” I agree, forcing myself to sound nonchalant. “And that Mavrik’s shadows are going to consume you.”
“Well, don’t worry, neither of you are my type,” she says with a casual shrug. The words hit harder than I expect.
“What is your type?” Mavrik asks, clearly intrigued. I focus on my coffee, taking a big swig before it gets cold.
“Banshees,” Thea replies. “Nothing says ‘I love you’ like a scream that can shatter glass.”
The words hit me mid-swallow. A sharp, startled breath catches in my throat, half disbelief, half choke, and the next thing I know, the coffee shoots up the back of my throat and out my nose, spraying across the table in a mess of heat and humiliation.
I freeze, stunned by the burning sting in my sinuses and the warmth blooming across my face.
My eyes water, but the pain is nothing compared to the sucker punch of her words.
I’m left sitting there, red-faced and spluttering, wondering why she had to joke about that of all things.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen that actually happen,” Mavrik says, his voice dry, but there’s an amused glint in his eyes. He raises an eyebrow before adding, “If Anita’s right and Thea only likes you for your looks… well, you just destroyed your one advantage. That was ugly.”
Thea laughs, her shoulders shaking with it, and I groan, trying to wipe up the coffee mess as I recover.
“I think it’s worse that I know you’re completely serious,” I say, staring at them in disbelief.
“Probably,” Thea quips. “But you did look utterly ridiculous. Nice change.”
I wipe the table with a napkin, my hands shaking a little from the surprise and the strange jolt of something else.
Thea’s gaze is steady, unaffected by the awkwardness she’s just caused.
Does she know what she’s just joked about?
Or is she just being… Thea? Of all the creatures to pick for a joke, why that one?
“I hate you,” I say with a smile, forcing myself to breathe through the moment. “Shall we go to class, or do you plan to continue tormenting me?”
“Definitely tormenting you.” Thea smiles back. “But yes, let’s get to class.”
Mavrik and I grab our trash, and we all file out.
“So sister?” I ask.
“Yes,” Mavrik grumbles. “Obviously we aren’t close.”
“Well, at least we know what Mavrik would look like with a stick up his ass,” Thea jokes, and we both can’t help the laughter that follows.
I leave Mavrik and Thea by the math building before walking toward my ethics class, the sting of coffee up my nose still lingers as a reminder of how easily she can catch me off guard. I push it aside, telling myself it was just a joke. But deep down, I wish it wasn’t.