Evermore Academy (Evermore Academy #3) - Audrey Grey Page 0,62
have Rhaegar and his poor man junk to thank for that.
But the minute the bell rings for lunch, my spirits drop, which sucks because lunch used to be my favorite part of the day. Sometimes I dutifully sit with Hellebore because I don’t feel like causing a scene. After that toxic drama the first day, Freesia is never there. In fact, I’m starting to wonder how she’s passing her classes at all.
After lunch comes hell.
Sometimes the Evermore don’t bother me and I get to sit alone.
Sometimes I spend the entire forty-five minutes of class fending off magical assaults.
Sometimes Inara and her minions literally stop class to yell insults at me.
But the worst is seeing Valerian. The dull ache in my chest throbs until I break out in a cold sweat, the pain unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Today, he still hasn’t shown up to our Offensive Elemental Magic class. I slide lower in my chair as the Six enter the auditorium, late, of course. They don’t even bother lowering their voices as they talk and laugh, interrupting the professor mid-speech.
“Oh, look who it is.” Bane slides into the chair to my left and Lyra to my right. Inara fills the spot behind me, followed by Rhaegar, Reina, and Basil. The poor faun refuses to meet my eyes.
Lyra laughs. “Why the scared face?”
I roll my eyes. Ignore ignore ignore. Don’t engage.
“Maybe this will help,” Bane says.
I know what he’s about to do. I try to look away, but I’m not quick enough. In the blink of an eye, his features have transformed into Valerian’s. Right down to the dark band of blue around his ice-blue eyes, half dimple, and sensual lips.
For a painful second, I stare into the face of my mate, the usual kick-in-the-gut feeling making me want to double over. But while my mind reacts, my body and soul recognize it’s not Valerian, and I quickly recover.
“Stop, Bane,” Inara snarls.
“What? I only wanted to make her smile.” Bane’s face shifts back. “Happy now?”
“Shut up.” I know Inara leans forward because the air behind me suddenly cools. “Why haven’t you left yet, Trailer Trash?”
“Maybe I like it here better than my trailer,” I say without turning around.
“I can remedy that.”
Sharp tendrils of ice drag over my skin. I grind my teeth against the promise of pain. My magic stirs to life, the feel akin to having a giant slumbering beast awaken beneath my rib cage. A beast that loathes being caged.
Since so much of my strategy against Hellebore in the Nocturus relies on surprise, I tamp down the invisible walls Eclipsa taught me to use. Pressure radiates outward as my magic realizes it’s trapped. I squirm, gritting my jaw as it throws a massive temper tantrum.
Spears of cold invade my body and lodge bone deep. A massive brain freeze bear-hugs my skull. Pain consumes my heart as the cold burrows deep. The pounding muscle begins to slow, the blood in my veins literally hardening under my skin.
Ruby yelps and darts from my fanny pack, miniature dagger clutched in her little fingers. I grab her before she can get herself hurt, but my fingers can hardly curl to hold her.
A few more seconds and I’ll freeze solid.
The cold thaws, leaving a stinging burn in my flesh and a horrible ache in my marrow. Fighting through the discomfort, I twist in my seat until I lock eyes with Inara. As much as she wants to kill me, she can’t. Not until Hellebore decides I no longer amuse him.
My lips are numb, but I manage to curl them into a grin. “Is that all you’ve got?”
Holy crapsicles, the hatred that swirls inside her eyes is terrifying. As is the low animalistic growl coming from her throat. Her fangs descend, and she lobs a frustrated glance behind her at Hellebore, practically pleading with him to let her do more.
Hellebore is sitting in the back row, long legs kicked back on the seat in front of him, arms resting behind his head. His eyes are storm-blue slits of boredom.
A fox shifter sits dutifully next to him, taking his notes and basically doing whatever he needs. The poor girl is glamoured out of her gourd, her long red ears tipped white and flattened against her auburn hair.
Hellebore finally acknowledges Inara’s demand for attention with a disinterested flick of an eyebrow. That bored stare slides to me, and he dons a wicked grin.