hand, keeping him in place. “No. He’s not worth it.”
“Enough!” Solomon finally decides to butt in. “I don’t care who you are or how you got a spot in my institution, but I won’t tolerate that kind of foul language in my presence. Get out of my sight before I forget I’m not supposed to use magic to torture people.”
Calvin’s eyes narrow to slits while he locks his jaw tight. But he doesn’t open his mouth again before he strides away. The rush of adrenaline slowly recedes, leaving me completely depleted.
Saxon turns to me, capturing my face between his hands. “That blast … Holy shit, Rora. It was awesome!” He crushes his lips to mine, taking my breath away in an instant. I want to melt into his arms, but we only have time for a quick peck before Solomon ends the fun with an annoyed throat-clearing.
Saxon and I break apart, and glance at the short man who is looking the opposite of amused.
“Get in my office.” He points at the open door.
Like scolded children, we get back on our feet and march into the room with our heads hanging low. We both messed up royally. Neither of us should have attacked Calvin. But I have no regrets. His insinuation that if he doesn’t marry me, he’ll marry Miranda has left me reeling. I wish Solomon had let me fry the bastard.
Over my dead body he’ll marry my sister.
Saxon and I remain standing in front of Solomon’s desk, waiting for him to sit behind it and doll out his punishment. But the familiar walks to the right, and pushes the heavy burgundy curtain open, revealing a small alcove where he has set up a mix of lab and infirmary. There’s an examination table, shelves with books, glass pots, and boxes, and a number of other objects I can’t identify.
“What are you waiting for, fool? Get in there.” He gestures at Saxon.
He minces into the alcove clutching at his midsection. I follow him, getting hit by a mix of strong scents. Herbs, rubbing alcohol, mildew, and … What the hell? Wine. What kind of shenanigans has Solomon been doing here?
Saxon sits at the edge of the table, wincing as he does, which makes me mad at the headmaster again.
“What was Calvin doing here?” I ask.
“What do you think?” he replies without making eye contact. “You hexed him with a powerful sleeping spell.”
“I had to get rid of him in a hurry. But he should have slept for at least ten hours.”
“I found him passed out in his car.”
The familiar continues moving around the small room, grabbing vials and bottles from the overcrowded shelves, and setting them on the table next to Saxon.
“You brought him back?” My voice rises to a shrill.
He levels me with a glare. “Of course I did. Everything that happens on Bloodstone grounds is my responsibility. I don’t care about your issues with the man. You can’t go around attacking people.”
“If you can call that vermin people,” Saxon chimes in. “If he doesn’t stay away from Rora, he’s going to die.”
“Oh shut up. You’re not going to kill anyone.” He stops in front of Saxon, eyeballing the big hole on his chest. “Jesus, how did you get hurt like that?”
“I faced a pissed-off dragon.”
He shakes his head. “How come every time there’s a problem in the community, you and your dumbass friends are involved? We haven’t seen a dragon shift into their beastly form in decades.”
“Hey! This time wasn’t our fault. Manu was set up for murder. Jacques is trying to weaken King Raphael by making him lose his allies. My father used to do the same thing when he wanted to conquer an enemy village.”
“I know. Your daddy was a piece of shit.”
There’s no visible reaction on Saxon’s expression, but when our eyes meet, I see the deep-rooted pain in his. I wish there was something I could do to erase that.
“Let’s see what we’re dealing with here,” Solomon continues.
He rips Saxon’s blood-caked T-shirt in the middle, revealing a sight more gruesome than I expected. The hole seems to be closing, but there’s still plenty of torn muscle to make me nauseated.
“How can you still be breathing?” I say.
“The right question to ask is: how hasn’t he gone into hibernation yet?” Solomon mutters.
“He drank from me.”
Solomon switches his attention to me, displaying wrinkles on his forehead. “Feeding wouldn’t necessarily help, but perhaps since you are his mate, that made a difference. Still, Saxon is not out of