Nightworld Academy - L.J. Swallow Page 0,84

pleasure at seeing the effect I have on this guy knocks away the little breath I have left, and I wrap my legs around him to grip his hips, digging my fingers into his shoulders as the movement against me sends me back to the stars.

For a moment Matt stills, then moves to brush my tangled hair from my face, staring down at me as if I might disappear if he blinks.

“I love you, Matt,” I whisper.

“I love you. I can’t word right now though,” he says breathlessly.

I laugh at his inability to speak and pull his mouth to mine.

We don't need words.

43

MATT

I drag the blanket over us and Amelia's body slackens against me, her short breaths heating my chest. My thudding heart is fuller than ever before, and I’m overwhelmed by the certainty she’s mine to love and protect forever.

The fire I lit before we went outside crackles nearby, and inside I can see the face of the serpent still living in the blaze from my magic. With a smile from my high, I raise a hand, whispering the spell. The creature materialises from the fire, a long body joining the head, and with a flick of the tail, separates from the flames. He slowly swoops around and above us as I manipulate the movement with my fingers.

I will control him.

My closest elemental affinity is fire and as I watch the creature, I’m aware the cause of my destruction could be the thing I could manipulate to save me. Amelia turns her head and I wait for her to chastise me. Instead, she reaches out a hand. Flames flicker on her fingertips and the serpent turns to look at her instead. I stare as the creature loops around the room once more before moving towards Amelia.

I flinch, ready to interrupt. “Lia.”

“No. Look,” she says.

The serpent settles on the edge of her fingertips, body melding with the flames as it perches. I prop myself an elbow and look between her and the creature. “I told you, Lia, you have to allow yourself to shine. You're not the average witch you think.”

She blows at the serpent, who spirals up before dissipating, leaving a tiny plume of smoke. “When I was a little girl, I conjured something like him.”

I prop myself on an elbow and stare. “A fire serpent?”

“No. Ice .” She smiles, eyes faraway with the memory. “The serpent was tiny—maybe two inches long. Genevieve saw and told me never to conjure one again. For years, I thought Genevieve was jealous because she couldn't create one, but recently I figure out why.”

“Because they’re dangerous,” I say and glance at the dying fire.

“I can’t see how an ice serpent could destroy as much as a fire one.”

“Elemental creatures who manifest as familiars are dangerous, Lia.”

“Mine was a conjuring trick, not a familiar. Like carving shapes in ice.” She yawns. “Irrelevant, anyway. I only conjured him once. Well, maybe a few times, but I stopped because the spell used too much energy.” Stroking Amelia’s hair from her face, I frown. Doesn’t she understand how unusual this makes her? “Probably for the best. Mine would be totally out of control.”

I don’t know what to say and lean down to kiss her nose instead.

“Maybe mine will reappear to say hello to yours.” Lia laughs and pushes me down before rolling onto me, the distractingly gorgeous curves beneath my hands again as her hair tickles my face.

“We might need them,” I say jokingly.

“True. Who knows what’s waiting for us?”

“Together, we’ll survive this,” I say and push hair from her face. “Together, we’ll be unstoppable.”

“That’s my Matt,” she says with a chuckle. “Self-assured and determined.”

I smile back, but I’m serious. The Blackwoods want us, which means we’re stronger than many realise.

Unstoppable.

44

AMELIA

The sunshine and peace fill my day with a happiness I've not experienced in months. I'm relaxed and with the guy I love and away from a world that was eating us up.

Matt doesn't feel the same.

He's as loving and attentive, but something bothers him. At first, I worried when he took walks away from the cottage to spend time alone, scared something might happen to him. We can't stay together 24/7, and Matt has months of trauma to process. He denies this, as if admitting to mental scars is a weakness.

We’ve only lived here a week and he’s already struggling.

I sit on the blanket we left outside since Matt's romantic night and eat toast. That's the other issue—we're running out of food and I can't picture