43. Thea
Thea
Goblin Drama and Accidental Voyeurism
Ahush falls over combat class as Zair, Mavrik and I walk in. All the witches turn to look at me. Some look angry, some amused. One in particular looks like he wants to kill me. I mean, I might’ve suggested his sandwich was missing the meat yesterday.
I shoot him a big, unapologetic smile. Ethan’s glare intensifies, the magic escaping him in his fury.
We’re doing circuits today, so when I need my water, I have to run clear across the gym and, naturally, it’s the exact moment that Coach steps out of the gym. Ethan storms over, his footsteps heavy on the floor. He grabs my arm, his fingers digging into my skin with possessiveness.
“What the hell?” he growls. The steady hum of activity falters, and just like that, every pair of eyes is on us, eager to watch the fallout.
Zair and Mavrik are across the room. That’s fine. I can handle this. Then something unexpected happens; students begin to move. At first, it’s subtle, a shift in posture, a few glances exchanged, but then I feel their presence behind me, stepping forward like a quiet wave of support.
I glance back quickly, and am surprised when I see Bernard, Lunita, and Varkas standing behind me.
Bernard and I’ve always been friendly enough, and I sparred with Lunita last week.
She gave me some hydrating powder to add to my water.
But Varkas… I don’t think I’ve ever even exchanged two words with him.
Yet here they are, standing tall, offering silent support.
I square my shoulders. I’m not backing down. Not now. Not ever again. Ethan’s grip tightens for a moment, seeing the crowd forming behind me.
“What’s wrong, Ethan?” I ask sweetly, tilting my head, as though his anger is nothing more than a minor inconvenience. His face twists, eyes unfocused.
“How dare you sleep with a fucking goblin? You are mine,” he sneers, his voice loud enough for everyone to hear, his claim hanging in the air.
I shake his hand off and take a step back. “I’m quite certain that I’m mine,” I reply with certainty. “And it’s none of your business who I sleep with.”
“Yes, it is,” he presses. “We’re dating.”
“We are?” I ask, incredulous. “We broke up over the summer.” He freezes, like his brain has short-circuited. “We haven’t been together for months, but I can see how you’d have trouble telling the difference. I certainly can’t.”
“Is that why you’re saying I have a small dick?” His voice drops to a harsh whisper, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Because I’m not paying you enough attention?”
“Did I say you have a small dick, or did your own insecurities bring that forth?” I ask without bothering to lower my voice.
Ethan’s face goes crimson, his eyes narrowing as he shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the entire class, clearly regretting the spectacle he’s created.
“You said to tell me that Benson has a big dick,” he hisses.
“And if you were as confident in your manhood as you are in your lies,” I continue sweetly. “I wouldn’t have been left so unsatisfied.”
Without waiting for a reply, I walk right past him, giving a nod of thanks to the three who came to stand behind me and resume my circuit.
Gym was bad enough, but now it feels like I’m navigating a maze of rumors.
I might’ve overdone it with the goblin joke.
The laughter and whispers become a constant backdrop to my day, a soundtrack I can’t turn off.
It was funny the first few times, sure. It made Benson laugh, and it felt like a quick jab at Ethan.
But now? By the fiftieth time someone asks me if Benson is really that good in bed or if I’d mind sharing, I’m done with it.
The whole campus is treating me like I’m some kind of punchline, and the worst part is that they think it’s hilarious.
Zair actually growled at a witch in potions who wouldn’t stop pestering me.
Then gave me a look as if to say ‘you did do this to yourself.’ Yeah, I know.
Anita’s curse reactivated around lunchtime today.
An added bonus I hadn’t counted on. Every seventeen hours and twelve minutes and lasts for thirteen minutes.
It will take her a long time to figure out the pattern and make it to the curse breaker on time.
Especially since her next two will be when she’s asleep, making her think it’s over.
I smile at the thought. It’s probably the only thing that makes the day bearable.
That and her telling the goblin who teaches crafting that she’d walk over the flames of his forge.
By the time I reach the library, I’m ready for some silence.
The boys have soccer practice, so I will be alone for a few hours until Zair finishes up.
I might have to text him to bring me food here.
While I wait, I desperately search through the banshee books.
Trying to find any clue to the man I lost.
Panic prickles at the edges of my thoughts. What if I find Lazlo, and he wants nothing to do with me because everyone thinks I’m sleeping with a goblin?
No, Lazlo isn’t a bigot.
Hell, he’s the one who told me goblins had huge junk.
The ache of missing him is sharper in the quiet. And then, in that silence, the memory slips in so clear it almost feels like it happened yesterday…
***
“Is it weird that I’m horny?” His voice, dry and hoarse, breaking the silence between our cells.
I’d laughed. “You’re literally chained up in a dungeon being tortured, so… yeah, a little.”
“Lack of relief is its own kind of torture,” he’d muttered. “Being near you like this and not being able to touch you… it’s driving me insane.”
“I can’t believe you even have enough blood left for an erection.”
“Priorities,” he’d deadpanned. “Wanna have dungeon sex?”
“I think sex dungeons are supposed to be more fun,” I’d shot back. “What are you wearing?”
“Rags,” he’d replied with mock seduction. “Barely hanging on. Not that I blame them.”
“Oh, sexy. And what are you packing?”
“I’m no goblin. Huge, though,” he’d said smugly.
Surely I’d misheard that. “Goblin?”
“Goblins have huge dicks. It’s a thing.”
“Well, lucky me. Not that you can come over here and prove it.”
“Tragic,” he’d sighed. “Truly.”
I remember the way his laugh echoed off the stone so out of place and yet… perfect.
“I think we’re doing this wrong,” he’d murmured after a beat, voice dropping.
“Yeah,” I’d whispered. “But when we get out of here…”
“Agreed.”
***
I’m worried I’m forgetting him, moving on. But then something reminds me of him, his stupid jokes. That spark. I miss him so much it physically hurts. I love that freak.
My magic flares.
I exhale slowly, trying to steady myself.
Professor Tennant said meditation might help with my magic, so I decide to give it a try.
I close my eyes again, trying to focus. Inhale.
Exhale. Breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth.
But the moment I try to still my thoughts, they rebel, racing in every direction.
Memories of Lazlo, Ethan’s sneer, the relentless whispers about goblins.
Was Zair done with practice yet? He should be, right? He’s probably in the locker room, getting dressed, probably laughing at some inside joke with Benson.
The air shifts. It grows heavier. My heartbeat, still there, starts to feel — offbeat. Like it’s guiding me somewhere. I try to focus again, but the pull only grows stronger.
Weightlessness.
My breath catches in my throat as my body feels heavy in the chair, my mind is floating, detached, as though I’m no longer in control of where I am. The world around me blurs, the hum of the library growing distant. What the hell is happening?
I gasp, trying to anchor myself, but it’s too late. The edges of reality slip away.
And then, bam.
I blink rapidly, disoriented. I’m no longer in the library. The world around me is stark and wrong. My heart pounds as the unmistakable sound of a locker door creaking open echoes faintly in my ears. Damp air clings to me, carrying the sharp scents of soap and cologne.
No. No, no, no.
My stomach twists as the realization hits me like a cold slap.
I’m in the locker room, immobilized by my panic as my eyes adjust to the fluorescent glare. The space is almost empty, most of the guys must have left already, leaving behind a few scattered towels and the faint echoes of their departure. And then I see him.
Zair.
He’s standing, facing a locker in nothing but a towel — that he’s dropping to pull on his boxers.
That’s a nice ass. My heart skips a beat as I realize I’m staring.
I gasp, unable to stop myself.
He spins, his eyes narrowing as they land directly on me.
“What the?”
My form is translucent, a faint shimmer clinging to my outline. He shouldn’t be able to see me.
Zair steps toward me, his brow furrowing as though trying to make sense of what he’s seeing.
“Thea?” His voice is cautious, like he’s not sure if I’m real or a trick of his imagination. I try to speak, to explain, but my voice catches in my throat. My chest tightens as the weightless sensation intensifies, and my form begins to waver.
Zair reaches out a hand, his confusion giving way to alarm.
“What’s going on? Are you—” Before he can finish, my form dissolves, the locker room blurring into nothingness.
The familiar hush of the library crashes back around me.
My breath comes in short gulps as I clutch the arms of my chair, the cool wood grounding me.
What just happened?
My head spins as I press a hand to my chest, feeling my heartbeat thunder beneath my palm. Whatever that was, it wasn’t supposed to happen. I’d only wanted to meditate, to calm my mind. Instead, I’d — what? Projected myself into the boys’ locker room?
Astral projection?
My phone rings. Fuck.
I answer and brace myself.
“You okay?” His voice is all concern.
“I think so. Sorry.”
“You at the library?” he asks, as if nothing just happened.
I tell him I am, and he says goodbye. Seriously? He’s not going to call me out on it?
I scramble to a book on powers, flipping through its pages with shaking hands.
What kind of magic do I have? I’m still poring over the text when Zair strolls into our nook about thirty minutes later.
His grin is smug, the kind that immediately puts me on edge.
He must have decided to wait to torture me in person.
“Hey, Perv. You enjoy the show?” he asks, his voice teasing as heat rises to my cheeks at the memory of his naked ass.
“I really hate you,” I mutter.
“Did you know you can astral project?” he asks, almost too casually.
“No. I was meditating, and then got distracted wondering if you were done so I could ask you to bring me dinner, and next thing I know, I’m getting an eyeful of—”
“My sexy ass?” he offers, a smirk dancing on his lips. “Or did you get the full show?”
“Seriously, I hate you,” I deadpan, but my cheeks are traitorously warm. “Just your hairy ass.”
He laughs, not mocking, just — stupidly delighted.
Then I frown, realization dawning. “Wait. How could you see me? I thought if it was astral projection, you shouldn’t have been able to.”
His smile falters for half a second. “Guess you’re too powerful to ignore,” he says, way too fast, brushing it off.
“I don’t think—”
“How about I take you out for dinner? Make up for it?” he offers, grabbing my bag before I can protest.
I narrow my eyes. “I see you naked, and now you’re buying me dinner. Isn’t this a little backward?”
His laugh is easy, carefree. “Hey, I’m a gentleman like that.”
Despite myself, I follow him out. He drives us off-campus to a cozy restaurant, far from all the drama of the day and even with the lingering embarrassment, the evening is unexpectedly enjoyable.