Page 21 of Spellcaster (Weatherstone College #1)

Strong hands pressed my thighs apart, pushing them firmly into the bed, and I cried out as his tongue swiped over my clit,

circling it slowly. Desperate to move, I tried to ride against his mouth, but he held me so firmly I couldn’t move. Those

continuous swirls of his tongue were unrelenting. My cries grew louder, and when he slid one finger inside my slick heat,

and then another, curling them up to stroke against my G-spot, an orgasm ripped through me—

I woke up with my hands in my panties, coming so hard that I felt like my body was locked in a place of pure pleasure. “Holy

goddess,” I breathed through a sob. This had to end. I couldn’t handle the dreams any longer, especially when the warlock

behind them had ghosted me harder than I’d ever been ghosted before.

Even if he was my mortal enemy, the fact that Logan and I had barely crossed paths in weeks frustrated me to no end. I’d expected

that day in the library to find myself constantly dodging his observations in his quest to unravel my secrets. Instead, it

had been endless weeks of catching glimpses of him and nothing more. He taught his classes, but he never once glanced my way,

and I couldn’t figure out why it pissed me off so much.

I should be happy about his disinterest, because there was no point I stopped believing Logan was dangerous.

He was the thorn in my side in an otherwise amazing year—with the exception of nearly dying.

.. twice. So far. I’d settled into college life like I’d been born for it: classes were going well, my friends were amazing, my family were all happy, and Dad had stopped staring at me like I was about to be kidnapped out from under him.

Everything felt settled, and yet... the roil of my useless magic only grew stronger. Along with the dreams. This wakeup,

thankfully, was only ten minutes before my alarm, so I rolled out of bed, grabbed my bag with my showering items, and made

my way to get ready for the day.

An hour later, Belle met me for defensive spells class. “You look like shit,” she said, by way of greeting.

“Feel like it too,” I mumbled around a yawn. “Fucking dreams.”

Her smile was sympathetic, but she couldn’t relate to my frustrations. Recently she’d started hooking up with a fire elemental

in the grade above us, and her situationship with Micha appeared to be working out quite well.

“Ava joined us last night,” Belle said suddenly, and I forgot my sleepiness for a beat, and blinked at her.

“As in joined , joined you?”

Belle snorted. “Uh, yep. I mean, I wasn’t expecting it, but I wasn’t objecting either. We’re going to see how the three of

us fare for these hookups.”

Micha had more than one situationship , and the clever bastard had figured out a way to bring them both together. “As long as you’re happy and getting all the orgasms

you need...” I said, wanting to ease her expression. She wore a look like she thought I was about to judge her. “Then I’m

fucking happy for you.” She had two sex partners, and I was just over here with dreams and sadness. I knew which one of us

was living her best life.

“Love you, bestie,” she said, hugging an arm around my shoulders. “I couldn’t do this college life without you.”

“Ditto.”

We set off down the hall, and I rubbed at my tired eyes, already planning an afternoon nap.

“Any progress on figuring out the creepy feeling?” Belle checked in as she did every few days.

“No progress. It’s just so random, and I can’t find a single pattern.” I’d caved and told the girls about it. None of them

had felt anything similar, and for the most part believed it was my energy reacting to Weatherstone. My magic wasn’t following

any rules, and they thought this was just one more oddity.

“What if you do have a stalker?” she asked suddenly. “I mean, that could be another reason we don’t feel it. Their energy

is directed at you. It could even be a tracking spell, if it’s a powerful enough witch or warlock. Like... Logan maybe?”

We hadn’t talked about him recently, and I’d never mentioned the library incident, but somehow she still knew how often he

was on my mind.

I shook my head. “He doesn’t seem the type to be this sporadic, or let it drag on for months. It’s connected to Weatherstone

and the energy it holds. It only ever happens to me here.”

My siblings and I had gone home last weekend to see Mom, and there’d been zero dark or creepy energy. No weird shadows that

I caught a glimpse of but when I’d turn there’d be nothing there. I’d even caved and visited the healer to see if I had head

trauma still, but Maddy gave me a clean bill of health. It was either psychological or... who the fuck knew .

“Okay, well, I’m back to it being your magic, and how it’s locked away.” Belle nodded as if that solidified her theory. “You

show an aptitude for necro, and I’m guessing that could feel creepy when it’s not fully... uh, developed. I wouldn’t panic

about it.”

My aptitude for necro wasn’t strong enough for an affin ity, but there was a vibe.

Especially near the graveyard. The professor explained during class that inside those walls the veil between the planes of existence was thinner.

There were a few spots around Weatherstone like that, including the lake.

It had been part of the old battlefield that this college was built on, with skeletons littering the lake bottom. Lovely.

We pushed through the students to find Sara and Haley waiting for us at the cart. They’d already grabbed our favorites, and

I could have kissed them both. Sara and I needed coffee to function as civil witches, while Belle generally got chai, and

Haley enjoyed chocolate milk.

“Because I’m still mostly twelve with my food choices,” she’d explained. Not that any of us cared—not liking chocolate milk

was the first sign of a sociopath, as far as I was concerned.

“You are angels,” Belle breathed, closing her eyes as she took her first sip of tea. “I needed that.”

“Looks like you might need a double shot today,” Sara said as she handed me my cup, laughing when I gulped down a mouthful,

scalding my tongue.

“The dreams,” I croaked, shaking my head.

“You need to get laid,” she told me sternly. “This is not good for you.”

I didn’t disagree with her. I’d attempted to get laid on three separate occasions.

Brenton, a third-year who was friends with Trevor—hence why that one ended before even starting.

Lewis, in our grade, who had a habit of talking about himself in the third person. By the time he said, Lewis is ready for some fucking , I was out of there.

And finally Damien, who was in our year as well, a water elemental, who ironically was as dull as dishwater.

“I need to find a warlock who gives me that spark, you know?”

Haley sighed. “Good luck with that. I haven’t even found a warlock here who can carry a decent conversation, let alone give me a spark.”

I chuckled sadly. “Girl, ain’t that the truth.”

We walked to class, munching breakfast bagels and sipping our drinks. Breakfast was served in the dining hall as well, but

we loved the cart. Outside of Belle, it was my longest relationship on campus.

“I finished that book last night,” I told Haley as I chewed. “It was really freaking good. That cliffhanger though...”

I breathed heavily. “I almost threw your e-reader across the room. When is book two out?”

Her entire face lit up. “Oh my goddess, I’m so excited that you enjoyed it. It releases in June, so not long to wait.”

Grinding to a halt, the other three turned back to stare at me in surprise, but I was too busy glaring. “Haley Michaels,”

I finally growled. “It’s the end of April.”

She pressed her lips together but refrained from laughing at me. “I know, friend. But I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.

This author always delivers.”

Haley had done the impossible and converted me. I’d had no idea there were books filled with the sort of desperate love that

I craved, along with action, adventure, snark, and all the sexy, sexy scenes . While they didn’t exactly help the dreams, they did keep me occupied when my mind wouldn’t shut up.

“I thought we were friends,” I said with a sad exhalation. “How could you hurt me like this?”

Haley’s laughter couldn’t be contained any longer, and she spilled her milk on her hand. “I promise not to send you incomplete

series from now on. How does that sound?”

I huffed for a few seconds, before settling down. “Sounds like a plan.”

After mopping up her hand with the napkin, she linked her arm through mine. “Come on, yell at me about the cliffy as we walk.”

I did just that, and when we reached our defensive spells class, all four of us threw our breakfast trash in the can and took

our usual seats.

This was one of my favorite classes, and today we were perfecting an all-round defensive trio of spells, one that would cover

a whole range of attacks and could be used quickly. Other spells were more specific, such as the lingher trestoria that we’d studied last week, which was literally used to ward off an attack from ants.

Yep. Apparently, if ants banded together, they’d destroy every living thing on Earth.

Who knew?

Today was fringal , a simple spell that covered a range of attacks. “We don’t recommend this one in an attack situation if you know a more specific

spell,” Professor Zander said, starting the class without preamble. He was a serious warlock in his sixties with a no-nonsense

style of teaching. “More specific is more effective, and fringal can drain you easier if you use it on an attack too strong.”

He looked around the class, and Dawn, who was a brainy student currently battling Haley and Belle for top grades, put her

hand in the air. “Why do you teach it if it’s effectively useless in an attack?” she asked after the professor called on her.

“It’s not useless per se,” he told her. “If you find yourself in a situation without the knowledge of a specific counterspell,