Page 94 of Spark of Sorcery

Then I smack my hands either side of his face and blow my magic across his cheek, healing the broken blood vessels and removing the coalesced blood.

“Good as new,” I say, flopping back on the bed. “Want to return the favor? I feel like shit.”

“No, you were an asshole,” Beaufort says. “Only seems fair you should suffer.”

“It wasn’t my fault,” I whine. “It was the full moon.”

Beaufort scoffs, and heads for the door. “Thirty minutes. We have to be ready to go in thirty minutes.”

Thirty minutes? Does that give me long enough to race over to our little thrall’s tower, pin her down and–

“Don’t even think about it,” Beaufort calls from the landing.

I laugh. My bond brother knows me well. The full moon’s effects haven’t dissipated yet. They’re still shimmering in my blood.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Fox

I watch, hidden around a corner, as the selected shadow weavers pile into the waiting trucks. No chauffeur-driven vehicles or top-range motors this morning. It’s early and there are no crowds of admirers either. These students are being taken for ‘training’ – to face danger and death. There’s nothing glamorous about it.

The last door slams shut and the trucks rumble into life, then chug off in single file out across the moorland until they’re lost in the early morning mist.

Wrapping my cloak around me, I turn and walk away. Is it a relief that they are gone? Damn, yes, it is.

The jealousy has been churning around in my gut, eating me from the inside out, stirring me half mad. Now, with the Princes gone, it’s not something I have to consider,not something my stupid brain has to imagine intrusively. For the time being at least, I can have some peace.

I trudge down into my classroom and watch the clock next, its hands ticking away the seconds, minutes and hours achingly slowly.

And then it’s time.

Her scent catches my attention, long before I hear the first footsteps on the stairs or the first murmur of voices, and my gaze slides to the door.

She’s last to enter – right at the rear of the line of students, tucked behind her tall friend, gaze fixed to the ground, shoulders hunched, those green eyes lost in thought. I attempt to read her features. Is she sad that they are gone? Happy? Relieved? I can’t convince myself either way. She’s sleeping with them – that much I know, that much I am tormented by. But I have no idea if she actually likes the three of them.

I watch her all the way to her seat, not giving a damn how obvious it must be, too desperate for this opportunity to soak her in to care. These moments are too fleeting after all. I will savor them for all they are worth.

Finally, when she’s retrieved her pen and notepad from her bag and lifted her gaze to meet mine, I find the strength to drag my own gaze away and focus in on my class, all waiting expectantly.

“I see our numbers are depleted this morning.” The obnoxiously large shadow weaver whose name I can never recall, his friend and one half of the set of twins for starters. I saw each of them climb into those trucks this morning.

“Do you know where they’ve gone, Professor?” one of the commoners asks me.

My gaze flicks immediately to Briony and I watch as she nibbles onher nails.

“Training assignment,” I say. I can see the curiosity shining in the students’ eyes. They want all the gruesome and gory details but even if I were sick enough to indulge in that, I am not at liberty to share the information. I ignore the question and begin the lesson instead, trying to teach what remains of my class how shadow magic can be amplified and strengthened with dedication and practice. It’s a waste of time. The commoners have no powers anyway and the shadow weavers I’ve been left with are the weak sort that no amount of concentration or dedication could improve.

Towards the end of the lesson, I give them some exercises and stroll around the classroom, offering bits of advice and specific instructions.

I reach Briony and her friend last, they’re slumped on the bench gossiping and not even attempting the exercise.

“This is becoming tiresome, Miss Storm. Could you not at least pretend to show me and my lesson the respect it deserves?”

She frowns at me, chin lifted in defiance as always. “There’s no point. You know there isn’t. It’s stupid that they even make us attend these lessons. Most of us here don’t have any powers.”

“And you don’t think it might be useful to understand how magic works?”

“Why? I’m never going to use it,” she snaps back.