Chapter 25
Twenty-Five
Rose
Without all the students and staff here, it’s blissfully quiet, dare I say, even peaceful.
Jasmine’s not around, no Thorne with her minions, no parade of terrified students rushing between classes.
Just empty halls, the occasional staff member who wasn’t lucky enough to leave, and me with my strange little found family.
So I’m going to enjoy it as long as it lasts.
Which, when the break is over and the trials start up again, might not be long.
I wake with Drake’s arm heavy across my waist. Actually heavy. Human-heavy. I turn to find him beside me, his chest rising and falling. Breathing. It’s impossible, but it’s happening.
“Morning,” he murmurs, eyes still closed, sensing that I’m awake.
I trail my fingers down his chest, marveling at how solid he feels. “You stayed all night.”
He opens his eyes, blue and bright, framed by thick black eyelashes. “Seems like it.”
“Not that I’m complaining, but I’m still amazed.”
Drake props himself up on one elbow, his brown hair falling across his forehead. He takes my hand, squeezing it. “It’s you. Your magic. It’s doing this.”
“So I’m your ball and chain?” I tease.
“More like my anchor.” He brings my hand to his lips. “Keeping me from drifting away.”
It’s more than that, though. He’s not just staying tethered to this world, he’s corporeal. He’s real, not a ghost anymore.
And I’m terrified that it won’t last.
We lie there for a few more minutes, just being together, like two normal people, before Drake sits up. “Come on. I want to take you somewhere today.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re crunching through fresh snow toward the small pond at the edge of the academy grounds. The morning is crisp and bright, and I take deep breaths, enjoying the feeling of the fresh air filling my lungs. Drake leads me by the hand, his fingers warm in mine.
“How have I never been out here before?” I ask, taking in the pristine scene. The pond sits in a small clearing, surrounded by tall, snow-tipped pines. The surface is smoothly frozen solid with a skim of snow.
Drake drops my hand to kneel by a fallen log, brushing away snow to reveal a hidden compartment.
He pulls out two pairs of ice skates. The skates are nothing like the modern ones I’ve seen.
They’re clearly antiques, with worn leather boots, the brown hide cracked with age but still supple.
Delicate scalloped edges trim the tops and tarnished brass hooks line the sides where thick laces crisscross.
The blades are narrower, with an elegant curl at the front tip.
“We used to skate on this pond every winter.”
I turn the boot over in my hands, noticing the initials “D.W.” on the leather. Drake Winstead.
“These have been here since I was a student.”
That was over a century ago. Another impossibility, and we haven’t even had breakfast yet. “How are they not completely rusted?”
“Magic.” He grins. “Small preservation charm. One of the first spells I ever cast successfully.”
He sits on the log to put on his skates, and I sit beside him, pulling the skates onto my feet. They fit perfectly, like they were made for me, and I feel a brief flare of jealousy thinking of Drake skating with another woman, even if she lived a hundred years ago. “I’ve never ice skated before.”
Drake looks up, surprised. “Never?”
“Moving around all the time doesn’t exactly lend itself to winter sports.” I tighten the laces.
“Then today’s your lucky day.” Drake stands, balancing effortlessly on the thin blades. He holds out his hands. “I’m a very good teacher.”
I wobble as I stand, grabbing his forearms. “If I break something, I’m blaming you.”
“Fair. But if you think I’d ever let anything happen to you, you’re softheaded.”
“Hey!” I protest at the playful insult.
He guides me onto the ice slowly, his hands steady on my waist. My feet immediately try to slide in opposite directions away from each other and the rest of my body, and I clutch at him frantically.
“Relax,” he says, his voice close to my ear. “Small steps. Keep your weight centered.”
I try to follow his instructions, focusing on staying upright. It’s frustrating and fantastic all at once. Drake skates backward, pulling me along, his movements graceful and sure.
“That’s it,” he encourages as I find something resembling balance. “You’re a natural.”
“Lies,” I laugh, but I think I might be starting to get the hang of it.
Drake releases one of my hands, skating beside me now. “Look at you go.”
We make a slow turn around the pond, Drake guiding me the whole way. By our third lap, I’m feeling almost confident. Until my skate catches on something and I pitch forward with a yelp.
Drake catches me, his arms wrapping around my waist. He spins us, laughing. “See?”
I’m breathless, not from the fall but from the closeness of him, the strong arms around me and the warmth of his body against mine. “My hero.”
His eyes lock on mine. We’ve always had a connection, right from the moment we met, but with him so present, so real, it feels different.
“Rose,” he says, and I watch his full lips as he speaks my name. Lips that have explored every inch of my body.
I close my eyes, then open them and reach up, brushing snow from his hair. “This is nice. Being here with you. Like this.”
“Like what?” His arms tighten around me.
“Like you’re not going to disappear any second.”
His smile turns sad. “I wish I could promise I won’t. We don’t know how long this will last, or even how it’s really happening.”
“I know.” I lean into him. “But we have now, right?”
“We do.” He presses his forehead to mine. “And I’m not going anywhere. Not today.”
We stay wrapped in each other’s arms, then Drake pulls back, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Want to try something fun?”
Before I can answer, he’s skating backward, pulling me with him, faster and faster until we’re flying across the ice. The world blurs, and I laugh. When we finally slow, my cheeks hurt from smiling. Drake looks at me with such tenderness I have to look away.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing. I just like seeing you happy.”
We skate until our fingers and toes are numb, until the sun is high in the sky, and I’m hungry and cold. Finally, Drake leads me back to the bank.
We return the skates to their hiding place, and Drake takes my hand as we trudge back toward the academy.
“Thank you,” I say. “For this.”
He squeezes my hand. “Thank you, Rose. I never thought it would be possible to do something like that ever again.”
The walk back is quiet but comfortable.
We’re halfway across the main quad when something cold and wet smacks the back of my head.
“What the—” I whirl around to find Soren leaning casually against a tree, another snowball already formed in his gloved hand.
“Look who’s back from their little romantic morning,” he calls, his grin wicked.
I narrow my eyes. “You were spying on us?”
“Please.” Soren tosses the snowball up and catches it. “Like I’d waste my morning watching you two make heart eyes at each other.” He pauses. “Though I did enjoy the part where you almost face-planted.”
I bend down, scooping up a handful of snow. “You are so dead.”
Drake chuckles beside me. “I’ll leave you two to your battle.” His eyes meet mine, and I understand. Even with the improved anchoring, he needs to conserve his energy.
“I’ll see you later?”
He nods, then leans in to press a kiss to my cheek. “Kick his ass,” he says before walking away.
I turn back to Soren, who’s watching with an amused expression.
“Just you and me now, little witch,” he says, tossing the snowball between his hands.
“Bring it, professor.”