Page 20

AVERY

W e took the spiral staircase down to the Norm Dorm which opened out into the Common Area. But Saint didn’t stop there—he stalked into the bedroom we shared and I, reluctantly, followed him.

I could hear Megan and Griffin right behind us, clattering down the stairs.

“I’m going to break the spell now!” she was shouting, even as I closed the door behind myself and Saint. He had asked for privacy and this was as private as we could get while still on campus.

When he turned to me, his eyes were blazing and his fists were clenched but he was still in control. Barely, I thought, but it was still Saint and not his Drake staring at me.

“Avery,” he said, speaking in the low, ragged voice of the damned. “Avery, I need to hold you— please!”

I looked at him uncertainly, not sure how to respond. I hadn’t really known what to expect. I knew his Drake was obsessed with me but I was sure that Saint himself hated me after what we’d done the night before. Was he acting this way because of Megan’s spell? Would he hate himself later for it?

“Saint,” I said, putting out a hand to keep him from approaching. “Look, I know you probably feel compelled to do…all kinds of things right now. But it’s just because of a spell that Megan worked. She?—”

“Spell’s broken!” Megan called through the door, interrupting me. “I destroyed the implements I used completely this time. It’s definitely done.”

“I can confirm that,” Griffin’s deep voice added. “All the implements have been destroyed and the magic is dissipated.” He paused for a moment and I heard whispering on the other side of the door. Then I heard him say, “Avery, are you all right? Megan wants me to come in and check on you.”

“No, no—stay out there—I’m fine!” I said hastily. I appreciated that my friends wanted to protect me from Saint’s cursed Drake, but since I seemed to be the only one who could calm him down, I thought I was probably safer alone with him than if other people were there, riling him up.

“Well…all right.” Griffin still sounded doubtful and then I heard Megan say something and he answered, “We must trust that Avery knows what he’s doing, sweetheart. If he tells us to stay out, we must believe him.”

There was more whispering for a moment—and I could imagine the two of them arguing under their breath just outside the door. Then there was the clicking sound of feet climbing back up the spiral staircase and I knew that Saint and I—and his Drake—were now all alone in the Norm Dorm.

“See?” I said, looking at Saint and trying to speak soothingly. “The spell is broken now. So I’m sure you don’t need to?—”

“It doesn’t have anything to do with any fucking spell!” Saint snarled. His face was tense with effort and I realized he was still wrestling internally with the cursed beast that inhabited him. “Please, Avery—I just need to hold you!”

It was a cry of desperation and I realized that whatever had been bothering him probably wasn’t connected to the now defunct Good Manners spell at all.

“All right,” I said, stepping towards him. “It’s all right—what do you need? Just tell me what?—”

But at that point, it seemed that Saint couldn’t hold back any longer.

Reaching for me, he yanked off my school blazer and tossed it on the floor.

“Hey!” I began to protest but Saint wasn’t listening.

He grabbed the collar of my white dress shirt and ripped it open. Buttons flew everywhere, pinging off the floor and furniture, and then he was yanking the shirt off me as well, leaving me bare-chested and shivering before him.

“Saint!” I began again, taking a step back from him, but he was already undressing himself as quickly and roughly as he had undressed me. When he was bare-chested too—and he had a much broader and more muscular chest than I did—he pushed me back onto my bed.

“Saint!” I exclaimed as I landed. I rolled to my side and held up a hand to stop him. “Wait! What are you doing?”

“Holding you!” His voice was deep and urgent and there was just a tinge of the double echo in it that meant his Drake was very near the surface.

He wrapped long, muscular arms around me and pulled me close to him, so that we were chest-to-chest—so close I could almost feel his heart beating against mine.

Then he rolled me under him, pinning me to the mattress.

His fingers entwined with mine and he brought my hands over my head, making me feel utterly helpless.

By now I was genuinely frightened. What was he doing? What was he going to do? Was I about to have my first sexual experience with another guy right here and now? If so, I couldn’t imagine it was going to be very gentle—there was too much urgency in his actions for that—too much raw need .

I wanted to be with someone I cared for and I did care for Saint, I admitted to myself—cared for him a lot more than was probably wise.

But I didn’t want it to be like this—rough and hard and too much to handle all at once.

He was much too strong for me to fight him off, though, and I was afraid if I tried to get away from him, his Drake would come out. What was I going to do?

“Saint!” I said, my voice tight with fear and apprehension. “Saint, please—please don’t! I don’t want it like this—not like this .”

“I’m just holding you, mi Corazon.” His voice was still low and urgent but at least it was his again.

His hands roamed over my arms and body and his chest was still pressed to mine, but I thought I could feel some of the tension leaving the long, hard form on top of mine.

“Never going to hurt you—just holding you,” he said again and rubbed his face in my hair, inhaling deeply, as though he was trying to breathe me in.

Slowly it occurred to me that, though we both had our shirts off, we were still dressed below the waist. I could feel his hardness rubbing and pressing against my own—(because despite how scared I was, Mr. Happy down there was apparently very into this whole encounter)—but there were layers of fabric between us.

It’s all right, I told myself, trying to get my heart to slow down. Everything is going to be all right—he’s not going to hurt you—not going to force you.

At least, I hoped not.

Saint was still all over me—literally. He was rubbing against me, running his hands over my bare skin and through my hair, sniffing the side of my neck as though he couldn’t get enough of me—as though he couldn’t get close enough.

And then he said,

“Avery, this isn’t enough—I need more— my Drake needs more. We need to be closer to you.”

“You…you do?” I gasped as I felt him fumbling with the fastening of my uniform trousers.

“I need to surround you…need to be in you,” he told me.

My heart picked up speed again as he pulled open my trousers leaving only my underwear in the way.

“Saint, we can’t do this!” I protested in a low voice as he palmed me. “We can’t—I’m not…not ready! And not like this—please!”

“But I need you!” he growled in my ear. “Dios, Avery, been needing you all day!”

Then I felt his mouth on the side of my neck—not just his mouth though, his teeth . Oh Goddess of Light and Shadows! I stifled a gasp.

“Saint,” I begged, trying to scrunch down my neck and push him away with just my head, since he still had my hands pinned above the pillow. “Saint, please!”

“Submit,” he growled in my ear and it was his Drake’s voice again. They kept going back and forth—it was as though Saint would get control for a minute and then his Drake would take it back again.

I stiffened against him—his bare skin against mine was furnace-hot—a sure sign the cursed entity inside him was close to coming out. Oh Goddess, if he did…

“Wha…what did you say?” My voice trembled.

“Submit!” his Drake ordered again, his mouth moving against the side of my neck. “You are the l’lorna. You must submit and be claimed!”

My first impulse was to struggle, but what good would it do? I was helpless, pinned beneath him, with my arms over my head and no way out. Taking a deep breath, I turned my head to the side, baring my neck for him.

I didn’t know what else to do.

I felt sharp teeth sink into the vulnerable side of my throat and he sucked hard, as though tasting me before taking a bite. For a long moment I waited as Saint held my pulse like a piece of candy between his teeth, waiting to see if he would rip my throat out.

At first, it seemed he really would. The teeth bit down harder and harder, actually breaking the skin. I winced at the pain but didn’t dare to move.

Oh please, I thought. Oh please, oh please, oh please…

“Saint!” I begged hoarsely. “Saint, please …”

Slowly, the teeth relaxed.

“What do you want me to do?” Saint’s voice—it was his voice again, not his Drake’s, and his skin was cooler as he covered my body with his own larger one.

“You don’t want to submit to me—don’t want me inside you.

But my Drake demands that I make you ours!

He saw the way the other Drakes were treating you today—the way they all wanted you. ”

“That wasn’t my fault!” I protested. “That was a stupid spell Megan put on the Drakes to make them all act nicer. Only she got it wrong and it turned into some kind of love spell. I didn’t want any of that weird attention from the other Drakes—I swear, Saint!”

“None of that matters.” He pulled back for a moment and looked into my eyes, searching them with his own.

“You cannot reason with my Drake, Avery—he only knows how much he wants you and now it seems to him that every other Drake at Nocturne wants you too.” He squeezed his eyelids shut for a moment, as though struggling with the thing inside him.

When he looked at me again, I could once more see flames dancing in his eyes.

“Avery,” he said hoarsely. “I must satisfy him in some way—he is insanely jealous!”