Witch Born - LJ Swallow Page 0,24
to watch the spectacle, and in this moment I’m more determined than ever to win.
“Look at them watching us. What are you going to do, Dorian?"
Before I can catch up to what’s happening, my back hits the nearby academy wall as he lifts a hand and throws me backwards. I gasp out for breath at the force as he strides over.
“I’m saving my magic, but I’m prepared to use some on you.” He arches a brow. “Yes. I have power here.”
How?
I train my gaze to his and take the sexual energy humming between us and wind it tight, pulling him towards me. This guy wants to prove to the academy that he’s stronger than me and put me in my place.
But that will never happen.
“I have power over you, Eloise.”
“Same, Dorian,” I whisper and slide my hand into the back of his hair.
Dorian’s mouth curls in smug satisfaction. “Can’t keep your hands off me?”
Does he really think this is him controlling the situation? I grip and yank his head back so hard he bites his lip against crying out. “You’re going to pay for what you did to my family, you bastard.”
Dorian slaps my hand away, seductiveness evaporating. “You’re testing my patience, Eloise.”
He moves closer and presses himself against me, his heart thumping rapidly against my chest as he squashes me. “We’re too alike, which can turn out well, or really, really badly for you.”
My head spins away from the world, but not due to the magic he’s using. My dark magic abilities meet his Blackwood witch energy head on, as our bodies and minds crave dominance over the other’s. The arousing anger created will always place us squarely between enemies and lovers.
Which will we be?
The afternoon sun is shadowed by a large figure who looms into view. Rory, the mid guard, seizes Dorian by both shoulders and drags him away from me.
He wrests himself from the man’s grasp and scowls at him. “Get your hands off me.”
“Get yours off her,” he snaps back.
“Me? Did you see what this witch did? She assaulted me.” He taps his head. “She’s dangerous.”
A second man appears at his side, hands casually in his suit pockets as he regards us. Marcus. “Less than a day and you're causing trouble, Eloise,” he says with a tsk. He turns to Dorian. “How interesting that emotions run high between you two. I’ve never seen you lose control.”
A red-faced Dorian glares at him, then pulls in a deep breath and glances at the gathered students. “What the fuck are you looking at?” he shouts.
“You’re fighting and losing, so of course they’re staring,” says Marcus.
“The fuck I am,” snaps Dorian.
He nods at me. “I’m curious how you both managed to manifest a little magic. That wasn’t smart.”
Dorian’s mouth draws into a thin line. “Fucking awesome. Now look at what shit you’ve dropped us in.”
I open my mouth to protest but don’t have any idea what to say or do.
Marcus jerks his head at the mid. “Let them go.”
The mid rubs his scaly cheek. “No punishment?” I cringe as his forked tongue darts out to moisten his lips. I don't want to imagine the punishment a mid could dole out.
“No. I suggest you both keep a low profile tonight.” He waves at us with a hand. “Any more behaviour of this nature and somebody will be forced to step in and reprimand you. Not all staff are as understanding as I am.”
Dorian straightens his shirt and glowers at me before turning on his heel and approaching the other students. He barges through the middle of them, head held high. Some watch him go; others stare at me.
“Your influence on the academy and students is fascinating, Eloise,” says Marcus before he follows Dorian’s route through the crowd.
I turn my back on those still gathered around me. Keep my head down and wait for release? Sure. Great start, Eloise.
Chapter Fourteen
The safest place right now is my cell-like room. I sit on my unmade bed, trembling and exhausted after my confrontation with Dorian. For a moment back there, I feared I’d bitten off more than I can chew as my emotions overtook logic. This lack of control is exactly what landed me in this place; I need to get a grip.
Oriana appears ten minutes after I close and lock the door, and as I hear the key in the door, I groan. She strides in all smiles and sympathy, suddenly the friend I wanted, but for what reason?
“You look a mess, Eloise,” she