Page 6 of The Entanglement of Rival Wizards (Magic and Romance #1)

Transportation spells are banned within city limits. It’s an underhanded political move by the transportation authority to stay necessary; but never in my life have I come this close to breaking the law, and that includes last night’s B you got it because of your last name.

You’re not capable of earning anything yourself, you pompous prick. ”

His shoulders go rigid under that suit jacket that fits him like it’s made of liquid. Color stains the part of his neck not covered by his hair, a bright crimson that spreads up the side of his face.

Slowly, he pivots to me again. My hackles rise, that hindbrain awareness of a predator nearby.

His glower flits down my body, and when I shiver this time, it’s from feeling exposed.

“At least people will know me,” he says, eyes returning to mine. There’s no challenge in them anymore. Just excruciating hatred. “Meanwhile, you will remain an immature fuckup who will die in obscurity because you have nothing substantial to contribute to this world.”

He says it with such certainty that it knocks the wind out of me.

The restroom echoes with the door banging shut in his wake.

“Mr. Walsh, where have you been hiding?”

Professor Thompson claps my shoulder as I take my seat beside him.

I discreetly shove my garment bag and satchel under the table, along with my Converse-clad feet.

Luckily, everyone else seated at our table is engaged in conversation, chatting easily and snacking on bits of quiche and mini pastries.

The wide banquet room is lined with windows on one side, casting bright midmorning light on half a dozen circular tables set with linens and flowers, while buffet tables piled with brunch bites at the edge of the room billow out scents of syrup and bacon.

Most of the guests are alumni and faculty of the Mageus Studies departments, but I clock the other applicants.

There are only four of us. Elethior and I are the front-runners, according to my faculty advisor.

Due to the oftentimes intensely competitive natures that tend to crop up in our field, the selection committee has only announced minimal details about each project.

I have no real idea what the other applicants are hoping to use the money for, merely that Elethior’s topic caused quite a stir among the selection board, as did mine.

My gaze snags on him, where he sits at one of the tables closest to the front podium, smiling amicably at a man seated with him.

I pivot back to Thompson. “Sorry, sir. I—”