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

by Kailin Gow

  their technique.

  At last it was my turn. My first match, against Alice,

  was a predictable defeat, although in my defense I managed

  to withstand her superior strength for a full five seconds

  longer than last time. But my second match, with Misty,

  proved a more even fight.

  “Good luck,” I heard Chance whisper to her as she

  got up to fight me, and I quietly seethed. Chance, whatever

  else had happened between us, had kissed me only two days

  ago: shouldn't he be wishing me good luck? I couldn't help

  glaring at Misty – what did she have that I didn't? Why was

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  he so nice to her and not to me? Did Chance have an

  especially soft sport for electric-blue hair?

  This time I won. Whether I was spurred by a genuine

  improvement in my wrestling technique or by jealousy and

  adrenaline I do not know, but I managed to get Misty on her

  back, pinning her tightly to the mat and accidentally bruising

  her elbow in the process.

  “Are you hurt?” Chance helped Misty up, inspecting

  her elbow and touching it softly with his finger.

  I looked at him with surprise. How could he be so

  kind with Misty, so gentle, when he was such a rake to me?

  And then it hit me.

  Misty was his girlfriend. That was the reason he'd

  been avoiding me, avoiding our attraction, pushing me away.

  He and Misty already had some sort of connection. My face

  flushed with shame – how had I been so stupid, so

  thoughtlessly cruel, as to go after another girl's boyfriend?

  But that shame quickly turned to anger. It had been Chance's

  choice to dance with me, Chance's choice to kiss me that first

  time – and he'd certainly kissed me back on the second. It

  was clear that I liked him, and he could have told me at any

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  time that he was seeing someone else.

  But instead he'd chosen to lead me on, to betray

  Misty and to make me into some kind of a fool. For fun, I

  wondered bitterly? Did he enjoy humiliating me? My cheeks

  blazed. How dare Chance lie to me like that!

  Coach Matthews turned to me. “You look flushed,

  Evers,” he said. “You look like you could use another go.”

  “I sure could,” I muttered. “I'm not done yet.”

  “Lots of energy for a beginner.” Coach Matthews

  laughed. “I'm impressed.” He scribbled something I couldn't

  see down on the keyboard. “Heart of a champion, clearly.”

  He looked the class up and down, trying to decide whom to

  match me up against next. “How about this?” He patted me

  on the shoulder. “You pick out your next opponent. Anyone

  you want. Completely your choice.”

  “I think I know who I want to fight.” I turned my

  gaze to Chance. “Chance Cutter, you ready for a fight?”

  Chance looked up at me with surprise, a look of

  shock that turned swiftly into a subtle glare. “Very well,

  Evers.” He sprang onto the floor. When he was close enough

  to me, he muttered into my ear. “Just what do you think

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  you're doing?”

  “Just seeing what you've got, Cutter!” I put my hand

  on my hips. “A girl's just curious, that's all.”

  “Don't push me, Mac.”

  So that's what it took to get him to call me by my first

  name, I noticed with a wry smile. A challenge. I curled my

  lips. I was going to make sure Chance stopped calling me by

  my last name if it was the last thing I did

  “Ready?” Coach Matthews called out affably from

  the sidelines. “One, two, three...”

  Chance simply stood staring at me, immobile and

  dark, his muscles well-defined beneath his tight sports shirt.

  His brilliant blue eyes seemed to floor me of their own

  accord.

  For a moment I was weak. I wanted to rush to him,

  to love him, to kiss him.

  But the moment passed. I saw Misty out of the corner

  of my eye, and jealousy and rage flooded through me. I

  wasn't about to give up my dignity, my self-respect, to a jerk

  who'd played around on his girlfriend and didn't even have

  the decency to be upfront about it.

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  I rushed him, knocking him to the ground. His eyes

  flew wide open with surprise – he hadn't expected me to be

  so strong. But he grabbed me back, tumbling over me. I

  could feel his hot breath on my body; I could feel our sweat-

  soaked frames twining together, our hearts beating faster

  with anger and desire. He tried to push me off him, but I held

  on tight, raising his wrists to try to push them over his head.

  Now he fought back. He grabbed my wrists, his

  rough grip driving me wild as he pulled me to him, flipping

  me onto my front so that he was lying atop my back, his lips

  so close to my ear. He'd won, I noticed bitterly – now all he

  had to do was pin me down. But he held on – so tight – as if

  he didn't want to let go.

  “What are you waiting for?” I snarled. “Throw me

  down, Chance. Isn't that more your style?”

  “Don't tempt me,” he whispered, his grip growing

  even tighter.

  “Manly man and all? The great god? I don't know,

  Chance, I've been awfully cold lately. Maybe you should

  take me to your secret lair and make me your goddess!”

  Outside the mountain, the words sounded foolish, even

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  ridiculous – some stupid game we had both played.

  “Don't you ever say those words to me again.” Now

  he was angry.

  “I forgot – you're afraid...”

  “I'm never afraid, Evers. And don't you dare believe

  I'm the sort of man who would let myself be a coward.”

  Evers. The formality was back.

  He thrust my face into the mat and raised his hand

  into the air. Five seconds I lay, wriggling and furious in my

  defeat.

  A routine wrestling move. One I'd done ten or twenty

  times that very hour. But with Chance on the mat with me,

  our simple game felt like so much more. I felt as if lightning

  had pierced through my skin. My heart was racing.

  At Coach Matthews' “match!” Chance released me,

  and I clambered to my feet. As I turned to face him, I saw

  that his eyes were once again filled with deep pain alongside

  his anger. Those weren't the eyes of a jerk out for a laugh, I

  knew – those weren't the eyes of someone who would cheat

  on his girlfriend as a game. There was something more going

  on, as if he were fighting within himself.

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  I stumbled as I rose, but Chance did nothing to help

  me up. “Don't let your emotions distract you so much,” he

  said. “Or else you'll never make the kill. Then it'll be you that

  gets killed, Evers.”

  He strode off, leaving me utterly confused. What did

  Chance mean by all these strange words – these
esoteric

  hints at a danger I did not understand, but could nevertheless

  sense deep within myself?

  Was it him I was in danger from?

  Chance strode over to the door by the exit. Misty was

  waiting for him, her blue hair even more shocking in the

  harsh yellow lights. Chance put his arm around Misty's

  shoulders and the two walked out together, leaving me

  standing on the mat. Alone.

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  Chapter 11

  I passed through the locker room in a haze, most

  confused than ever. As I changed back into my day dress, I

  did my best to ignore Misty, who was changing into a

  thoroughly school-inappropriate outfit of black leather

  pants, knee-high boots, and studded spike collars, treating

  me with a neutrality so perfectly polite that it was clear she

  had no idea what I'd done with her boyfriend. But even here,

  in the girls' locker room, as far away from Chance as I was

  likely to get in this school, I felt his presence still. Why did

  I let such a cad have such power over me? Why had I let him

  treat me the way I did? And I hadn't just hoped he'd kissed

  me, either. I'd gone straight up to him and gone for the kill

  myself. I'd kissed him.

  Maybe it was all just in my head. The flames at the

  luau, the looks we'd shared at the dance, our electric

  connection – maybe I'd invented them all as part of a stupid

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  crush. Maybe he'd never had any interest in me at all. After

  all, from insulting me at the dance to pulling away from our

  last kiss, he'd done his best to push me away. Maybe he was

  making it clear that he wasn't interested – and I was just

  being desperate and pathetic, little better than a stalker.

  But then why did he stare at me in that way, so full

  of desire, of longing? Why did he speak to me of danger,

  tempt me with that kiss up on the mountain. Surely he could

  have found another way to save me from those men –

  whoever they were – if he was that intent on pushing me

  away. He didn't have to kiss me – and he certainly didn't have

  to kiss me that hard. He was leading me on; I knew it now.

  He was doing his best to drive me crazy on purpose. Because

  it was fun? Because he was cocky enough to think he could

  get away with it?

  I sighed as I pushed my way out of the locker room

  and into the hall. I was flushed from the exertion and the

  exercise, but also from the embarrassment. Had anyone seen

  the way Chance had treated me, I wondered? Did the other

  boys in my class know how I felt about him? I put my hands

  to my face, as if imagining that I could feel signs of my

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  shame there.

  No, I decided – no more. It was clear that, whether

  Chance liked me or not, he certainly wasn't interested in

  having anything to do with me. And I wasn't going to go out

  and embarrass myself by running after him or trying to kiss

  him again. In any case, I had Varun and Brandon, didn't I?

  Varun was certainly hot but also kind, sweet, and handsome,

  and who seemed interested in me. Someone who had been

  polite and unfailingly gentle to me since I had known him.

  How could I be stupid enough to chase the flames of my

  passion with Chance, when I had the potential for a great

  relationship already with Varun?

  And Brandon? He was playful, fun, and someone

  who got along with everyone like Varun did, but wasn’t a

  Cutter so he had an outsider perspective. He didn’t seemed

  to have that history between the Cutter Cousins. Popular like

  Varun and Chance, he was also known as one of the Princes

  of Paradise. He also didn’t seem to mind me being with

  Varun or Varun minding me being with Brandon.

  Enough, I thought. Maybe Chance liked to play these

  games, but I sure didn't. I wanted someone who wanted me

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  just as badly – and right now that person was Varun. I closed

  my eyes as I thought once more of our kiss in the garden. His

  lips were so light, so tender – like the landing of a

  hummingbird. His arms made me feel protected, calm and

  safe. His blue eyes were wide and full of kindness. He was

  – in every respect so far – the perfect guy. And was I really

  about to jeopardize all that for an opportunity to score a

  commitment-phobic cheater like Chance?

  And if Varun was as good a best friend to Brandon,

  and it was fine with him about Brandon…

  I scoffed. I just had to force myself to forget the

  imprint Chance had left on my body when we danced, when

  we kissed. I had to forget the way my blood burned, the way

  my eyes saw flames dancing around him, the way the heat

  prickled and overwhelmed my skin. I had to forget it all. I

  had to be strong.

  Never mind that the feeling of his lips on mine,

  involuntarily remembered, sent me reeling. Never mind all

  that.

  I was interrupted from my reverie by the calling of

  my name.

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  “Mac!” Varun appeared from around the corner, his

  book bag slung over one shoulder. I smiled to see him. He

  looked as handsome and as happy as ever, his normally-

  soaked hair uncharacteristically dry. “I'm so sorry I didn't

  call you, Mac,” Varun flushed. “You see – I'm an idiot. I

  forgot to get your number. I came over to your house on

  Saturday afternoon, but nobody was there, and then Uncle

  Tony wanted me to work all day Sunday so...” He looked

  down. “Sorry, you must think I'm a real jerk for not calling

  you.”

  You – a jerk?

  That settled it. I'd rather be with someone who

  apologized when he wasn't being a jerk than someone who

  refused to apologize when he was one.

  “No problem,” I said. “I figured I hadn't given you

  my number or anything, so I wasn't hurt. And I had a lot of

  homework to do. Aeros history is hard when you've only

  been living here a couple of days. I feel so behind.”

  “Nah, don't worry,” he said. “You'll catch up. But –

  um – hopefully – do you think maybe you'd catch up enough

  in time to take a couple of hours off tonight?”

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  “I doubt it! I've got so much...” Then I realized what

  he was saying. “Unless you have a suggestion for how I

  could better spend my time.”

  Varun brightened immediately. “There's so much to

  do here on Aeros,” he said. “And so little time!” He smiled

  shyly at me. “You know, Mac,” he said. “I had a really great

  time with you the other night. Only you could make a

  twelve-year-old kid's party so much fun! Well, that and

  pizza, at any rate.”

  “I'm really glad I came,” I said. “It was a good start

  to the year.”

  “So maybe we could do it again, sometime?�
� Varun

  looked up at me hopefully. “Maybe without all the kids

  running around?”

  “Again sometime?”

  “Well, I was thinking more of again tonight,” said

  Varun. “Maybe I could take you out on Uncle Tony's boat.

  We could go to a cove I know about five miles east of here.

  You can't get to it by walking; the path's too steep. Maybe I

  could bring a picnic – a bottle of coconut cider, some fruit

  and cheese, maybe I can even steal us a meal from the hotel

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  buffet.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “That sounds nice. I'd like that a lot.”

  A romantic moonlit picnic certainly sounded a lot more fun

  than getting chased by bulls and threatened by warrior men

  on a mountaintop. And I would be going with someone who

  seemed to actually want me around.

  “Wow,” Varun said. “It sounds like I managed to get

  a date with a pretty girl. No idea how that happened. You can

  back out now, you know. If you're not sure.” He grinned at

  me.

  “I don't know,” I said, flirting back. “I feel like I got

  a pretty good deal, too.”

  As I spoke, Varun put his arm around my shoulder.

  He smiled as he leaned in, his lips lightly brushing mine.

  Then he pulled me close, his kiss soft and romantic, his hand

  lightly cupped behind my head, stroking my hair with

  infinite tenderness.

  “No, definitely me,” said Varun. “I got the better

  deal! You'll just have to settle for me, I guess.” I loved the

  way I looked in his eyes – he made me feel beautiful.

  Desirable. Wanted – from my hair to my toes. Someone that

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