Page 86 of Bitten By the Fae

Oroffensivelyin this case.

Steeling my spine, I held out my hand and murmured the conjuring spell we learned yesterday. Ice picks formed around us almost immediately, all aimed at Zeph. His lips actually twitched as he batted them away with a quick defense spell. “Good. Again.”

I repeated the incantation.

He destroyed it a second later.

“Once more.”

Narrowing my eyes, I decided to throw him off guard and called up a different spell that I’d read about in my books last night. It was from the next chapter and involved fire. A dangerous move considering my history with the element, but my cerulean flames remained in check as a parade of black embers encircled Zeph.

His eyebrows shot up just enough to confirm I had surprised him. In the next breath, he uttered words that dispelled my creation. “Cute,” he muttered. “At least I know you can read.”

The jibe made me roll my eyes at him. “I’m not an ignoramus.”

He considered me for a long moment. “No. You’re not.”

“Careful, Zeph. That was almost a compliment.” I always called himHeadmasterorZephyrusaround others, but I’d taken to using his nickname when in private. He never corrected me, so I took that as his way of allowing it.

“Well, you seem to be taking well to Malefic Magic, so let’s try some more defensive moves. Maybe it’ll help you not get your ass kicked next week.”

“Praise tied to an insult,” I mused. “There’s the Zeph I’ve come to adore.”

He glared at me. “Stop talking and start focusing.”

“I am focused.”

“Then knock me down.”

I sighed. “Sure.” We both knew I couldn’t. Not only did he have, like, twelve inches of height on me, but he was also solid muscle and an expert defender. Hitting him was akin to punching a wall. Making him budge even an inch proved impossible every time we did this exercise.

But I’d try anyway because he demanded it.

Using a technique he taught last week in Warrior Magic class, I tried to circle around to his back to knock out his knees.

He moved with me, his arms folded, his expression bored.

Gritting my teeth, I tried the leg sweep he used on me a few minutes ago.

And nothing.

Not even a flinch.

It actually hurt me more than it probably hurt him.

So I ran around behind him and jumped on his back, my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

“Hanging out,” I said, my forearms locking around his throat. “When you get tired of holding me up here, you’ll fall.”

“You weigh practically nothing,” he gritted out, his head twisting in a futile effort to see me. “Get down.”

“No.”

“This isn’t useful at all.” He sounded livid, which only made me cling to him more. Pissing him off had become a favorite pastime of mine. He was a dick to me, so I paid him back in kind. “Seriously, let go.”

I placed my chin on his shoulder and sighed. “I think I’ll just stay here until you fall down.”