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Princes of Paradise: An Academy RH Bully Romance (M.A.G.E. (Magical Academy of Gods and Elementals) Series Book 1)

Page 8

by Kailin Gow


  I’m fucking hot for you, too. Not because you’re new here,

  but because you and I…there’s something there.”

  His thumb traced my lips before he licked it, sending

  both heat and chills through me. “For now just tasting your

  lips on my finger is a start.”

  I wanted to say yes to his date, but then Varun had

  told me about Jana and kissed me. And confused the hell out

  of me with what he said. Now my head was spinning, and I

  wanted to be out on my own to clear it.

  The promise of exploration was an attractive one,

  and although I wasn't sure I wanted Brandon as my tour

  guide as attractive as he was this morning, I definitely

  wanted to see the island. A good night's sleep had invigorated

  me, and the memory of Varun's kiss on my lips kept me

  strong.

  But he had said something strange to me last night –

  what was it? “I've missed you, Mac.” What did it mean? Had

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  he just missed me since that day at school – but that seemed

  like a strange thing for anyone to say. And I certainly hadn't

  been to Aeros Island before. Perhaps I'd misheard him –

  perhaps he was talking about kissing me, not missing me.

  After all, I was so intoxicated by his presence, by the kiss,

  by the sheer beauty of the island, that I could very easily have

  gotten mixed up.

  Still, there was something strange about Varun, as

  there was about Chance. Evidently the Cutter family had

  plenty of mysteries still to be discovered.

  The note on the refrigerator made it clear that I was

  on my own. “Out Early For Wedding Planning. Danish in

  Fridge. Take Off Plastic Before Putting in Microwave. Love

  Mom.”

  Appetizing, I thought grimly. I decided to skip

  breakfast and head over to the hotel. Perhaps Varun would

  be around – perhaps he'd be one for hiking. In any case,

  sneaking grub from the hotel buffet sounded like a better

  prospect than day-old refrigerated Danish.

  I quickly changed into sneakers and shorts, picking

  out a silky floral blouse whose patterns – flowers and coral

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  – reminded me of last night's garden, and then headed off to

  the hotel.

  Brandon and Varun were nowhere to be found, but

  Sally, the girl I knew from the party, was manning reception.

  “I like this a lot better than kids' parties,” she said.

  “But last night was an emergency.” She smiled at me.

  “Looking for your mom?”

  “Actually, I'm looking for Varun.”

  “Just missed him.” She laughed. “It's a Saturday

  morning. You won't find Varun if you get here after eight. He

  leaves to go surfing with Brandon every Saturday, seven

  a.m., on the dot. You could try going to the beach, but I

  wouldn't be too hopeful. Sometimes they take Brandon's

  dad's boat and go around the island.”

  “Brandon and Varun seem close,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Sally said, “Like brothers. Been best friends

  since kids. Those two… all the girls have crushes on them.

  Probably been through most of them, too. Not me. They’re

  fun and all, but they’re just not my type. Plus, they spend

  most of their time in the ocean. They can’t get enough of it.

  That’s where they are now.”

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  “Shame,” I admitted. “I was hoping they'd take me

  hiking. They told me that this island had great hiking trails.

  Brandon told me that there was a place I could go to find

  these gorgeous colored stones – I collect stones, you know.”

  Ever since I was a baby, I had been fascinated by pieces of

  colored rock, tiny almost-gemstones I could hold in the palm

  of my hand and imagine were pieces of a vanished magic

  universe.

  “You'll have a lot of luck around here,” Sally said.

  “The place is coming down with them. Stones, plants, leaves

  – birdwatchers like to collect feathers sometime. I lead

  hiking tours on Sunday afternoons if you're interested –

  Antonio likes to keep his staff busy! Kids' parties, the

  reception desk, hiking tours – it's definitely not your

  ordinary hotel.” She smiled at me. “But I can give you a trail

  map if you want to go alone today. It's not dangerous as long

  as you stay on the track. They're all pretty clearly marked.”

  She gave me a look that made it clear she knew what I was

  thinking – who needs maps?

  “And take water and food in case you get lost.” She

  brought out a bottle of water and a chocolate bar from behind

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  the desk. “Staff treats,” she said, sliding them across the

  desk. “Another one of Antonio's innovation. Keeps up

  morale!” She handed me the map. “Now, since you're new, I

  recommend the basic Trail One. That's the one with the blue

  arrows. It leads you around this gorgeous cliff by the sea with

  nice views, and then to a waterfall about two miles inland.

  You can have a swim at the waterfall and then head back

  along the beach if the tide's right. If not, go back the way you

  came.”

  I took the map gratefully, along with the snacks. I

  had, after all, forgotten to get breakfast. But my hunger was

  soon forgotten as I found myself in the midst of the most

  beautiful scenery I had ever seen. Vines twisted and turned

  down steep cliffs; flowers let off intoxicating scents as they

  dangled from trees and shrubs. Butterflies with enormous

  decorated wings flitted from petal to petal, as if in time to

  the calls of birds. And through everything I could see the sea,

  hear its noble roar, as I caught glimpses of green-tinted blue

  from between the vines.

  I followed the blue arrows at first, as Sally had said,

  and reached the waterfall in a couple of hours. I made my

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  way down to the beach for the return but found, as Sally had

  warned, that the tide was not favorable, and I couldn't walk

  back without getting my shorts and backpack seriously wet.

  She had advised going back the way I came, but my desire

  for exploration and adventure made me rail against the

  suggestion. I'd find my own way back, I told myself – maybe

  find a shortcut. Go somewhere the tourists didn't ordinarily

  go.

  I left the blue arrows behind and made my way into

  the brambles. The vines trailed down around me, caressing

  my shoulders. I pressed my face into the flowers, smelling

  their sweet, honey-tinted, scent. Soon I was far from the

  path, letting my feet take me deeper into the midst of this

  beauty. A flame-colored monarch butterfly flew past me,

  fluttering in a up and down pattern. Since the Erosion,

  butterflies were rare, and a monarch butterfly was even more

  rare. I brought a sketch pad with me…perhaps I could sketch

  it, capture its beauty. I followed it further.


  Go further. And once again I felt that strange calling

  I had felt when approaching the flames the other night at the

  bonfire – the sense that I was being summoned, that I was

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  wanted somewhere. Go deeper.

  Like a sleepwalker, I listened to the voice, allowing

  my feet to guide me. The monarch butterfly flew along

  besides me, fluttering up and down, like a small torchlight. I

  was deep within jungle now – the sun was high in the noon

  sky and I climbed up the ridges to the top of one of the

  mountains. My mind was overcome by the beauty, by the

  smell of the flowers. I could focus on only one phrase,

  repeated over and over again like the drumbeat in my mind.

  Go further, Mac. Go deeper.

  The sun had started to set before I realized what had

  happened. It was the silence that made me realize it first.

  There was no sound of the sea where I was – and I could not

  see its blue waves in the distance. I had gone so far inland

  that I could hear nothing at all.

  My heart began beating faster as my senses came

  back to me. What had I done? I looked around wildly. Where

  was I? The monarch butterfly was gone. Had I imagined it?

  I started running back downhill the way I came, but suddenly

  the terrain seemed all unfamiliar to me. The paths twisted

  and tangled, and each way was equally strange. I didn't

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  belong here, I knew, as my blood began to prickle and burn

  with fear. I shouldn't be here.

  And yet that calling – it had been so convincing, so

  strong...

  I needed to find my way back, I knew. I made my

  way a bit further down the hill, trying desperately to make

  out the direction of the sea. I looked down at my map, but it

  was no use – I had long since vanished off its borders, into

  the uncharted territories of white space. I started to panic as

  my feet collided with a tangle of brush – one knotted so deep

  that I couldn't manage to pry my way through. I heard the

  sound of footsteps and looked up, my body flooding with

  relief. So, somebody was there after all! Somebody was

  coming to save me!

  But as I looked up, my eyes following the shadow

  that had been cast over the glade, I gasped with terror. The

  footsteps were not of a person at all, but of a boar, its blood-

  stained horns glistening in the evening sky. My heart began

  to pound harder.”

  “Nice boar,” I whispered. “Good boar...”

  It stamped its feet into the ground. Its pale yellow

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  eyes leered at me as it blew forth gusts of air from its nose.

  Its horns looked even sharper up close.

  I knew that look. It was going to charge.

  In an instant I was on my feet, running faster, faster,

  as fast as I could to get out of there. I coughed and spluttered,

  agony flooding my body as my muscles started to produce

  acid. But the boar was hot on my trail. It had decided I was

  a threat, now; it had decided to gore me through. No matter

  how fast I ran, the boar was at my heels, sniffing and

  groaning from its great throat.

  My legs were getting tired; there was no way I could

  outrun it. “Help me!” I cried, my voice catching in my throat.

  “Somebody help me, please!”

  It was so close that I could feel its breath on my

  shoulders – it was ready to strike.

  I closed my eyes, waiting for the stab, waiting for the

  pain...

  And then I felt nothing. I only heard the rustling of

  leaves, a groan of pain followed by a short, sharp thud.

  I turned around to see the boar's body splayed out on

  top of the leaves, its head clearly severed, staring up at me

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  with glassy eyes.

  I screamed, then clapped a hand over my mouth.

  If the boar was killed, then that meant only one thing.

  There was someone else in the woods.

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  Chapter 9

  I looked around wildly for the killer of the boar, but

  he were nowhere to be found. There was no sound – not even

  a rustling of the leaves. “Hello?” I called out softly, unsure

  if this mysterious figure was friend or foe.

  At last I heard footsteps in among the leaves – human

  footsteps, this time. A figure stepped out from the shadows

  – and then another, and another, and another. A group of six

  or seven men, their faces hidden beneath layers of paint,

  stepped forth, spears held tightly in their hands. They wore

  the traditional garb of Aeros – garb I had seen only in history

  books.

  In a flash, I remembered what my textbook had said:

  The original indigenous people of Aeros Island intermarried

  in the late first century AD with settlers from the Roman

  Empire. The children of these marriages were known as the

  Veteri , the Old People, for from then on each successive

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  wave of settlers brought new changes to the island. The

  Veteri came to be identified by their distinctive face-paint

  markings, a flame on one side of the cheek and an ocean

  scroll on the other, to symbolize their twin origins: the fires

  of the island volcano and the seas that brought the Romans

  to them.

  The Veteri died out in the late 10th century AD, when

  the island was conquered by Vikings from Finland and most

  Veteri abandoned their nomadic ways to reside in the

  growing towns and cities of the island.

  Evidently the history books were wrong, I thought

  grimly, spying the distinctive flame and wave on the mens'

  faces. Yet, beneath the paint, their eyes flashed dark with

  anger. It was clear that I had intruded upon their space – that

  I was not wanted here.

  “I'm sorry...” I whispered. “I didn't meant to disturb

  you,” I said quickly. “I just got lost. If you could just show

  me the way back to the beach.”

  They seemed to grip their spears tighter in response;

  I shivered. “Look, if you'll just let me find my way back...”

  I made as if to leave, but one of the men from behind, stepped

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  straight across my path, his expression stern and implacable.

  He clearly wasn't about to let me step out.

  “Well, if it isn't Miss Evers!”

  I gasped as a familiar face made its way through the

  crowd. Chance was strolling nonchalantly through the group

  of men, his body clad in black jeans and a black t-shirt. His

  hair was so black, shiny, and thick, it glistened in the light.

  Again, the mere sight of him took my breath away for a

  second before I remembered how much of a jerk he could be

  with me. But at this moment, his familiar face was the most

  welcome sight I’ve seen all day.

  “Chance!” I exclaimed in shock. “What are you

  doing here?”

  “
The same thing I imagine you're doing, Miss Evers.

  Out for a bit of a walk. I take it you've lost your way.” He

  spoke cheerily, but I could feel the sarcasm in his soft but

  gentle low voice.

  “No, I decided it would be a spot of fun to sleep

  rough tonight.” My stomach rumbled loudly, exposing the

  falsity of my bravado. “What do you think?”

  “I thought perhaps you just liked the scenery.”

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  “Would you just stop...” My cheeks blazed.

  He took a step closer to me and whispered. “Don't

  look angry. They don't trust anyone they think can't control

  their emotions.” He gave a furtive nod to the men. “Cool it.

  You want them to trust you, or you're not getting out of here

  alive.” He took another step towards me, and I could feel my

  body once again growing weak – already so tired from the

  run and the fear – as he fixed his shimmering blue eyes on

  me. I looked into his eyes with my green ones, trying to

  understand this infuriating man, trying to…

  He kissed me. Roughly, passionately, all at once – as

  I had dreamed, against myself, that he would do – pulling me

  towards him, as if he wanted to pull me within his very soul.

  His kiss was searing, breaking all the fear and uncertainty I

  had about him, unleashing the desire I had for him even

  before I realized it. I staggered back and then kissed him

  back, unable to resist twining my arms around his head. My

  heart beat to the same old dance – the dance of the fire, the

  dance where we had both been surrounded, almost engulfed,

  by flames. This was the kiss we both held back from that

  night at the fire dance with the flames surrounding us.

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