Ash strides along the hallway, speeding up as he sees me. His black jacket is unzipped and the faded grey T-shirt underneath hugs his muscular chest. In the past, someone with his bulk and strength would scare me. I imagined he'd be rude. Conceited. Taking rich pickings from girls around him.
I lost sight of that as I grew to know him; the gentle, friendly guy wasn't only the mountainous rugby player anymore. Watching Ash from a distance, I'm reminded just how imposing he is. Weirdly, discovering the guy I crushed on could turn into a dragon doesn't bother me. Not a trait I expected in a guy I liked, but why judge?
My stomach ties into knots at the purposeful look on his face, and I step forward, hesitant as to whether Ash wants to kiss me.
Dumb question.
Ash takes my cheeks in both hands and his lips meet mine. The evening we returned to the academy, the kiss came as a surprise, but I've anticipated this one all day.
His mouth is hard and insistent, arms winding around my waist and pulling me close. This time instead of worrying about our public kiss, I lose awareness of those around, soaking up his affection and desire, as his mouth moves gently against mine.
I softly run my fingers from his large biceps to his forearms and take his hands, moving away to look at him before I spend the evening entangled here.
"Hell, I missed you," he says and smooths my cheek with his thumb.
"Same." I smile and my knotted stomach fills with butterflies instead.
"Do you know how difficult it was today, to sit next to you in class and not kiss you?" He places his lips on mine to demonstrate.
"Finding alone time isn't easy," I say and wrap my arms around his neck.
He pulls me closer, one arm almost encircles my waist, and brushes my cheek with his nose. "Too cold outside."
I moisten my lips. "Too public here."
"Do you want to come back to my dorm room?" he murmurs against my ear.
My heart skips and I pull my head back to look at him. "Is that allowed?'
"No. Against academy rules, but nobody pays much attention. I've had girls in—" Panic crosses his face as he hastily adds. "Not 'had'. They visited. You know. Sometimes."
I suck my lips together, amused at his squirming, as if I can be jealous of anybody who's come before me.
"I mean, dorm rooms are private but there's always a chance your roommate could walk in."
I chuckle. "That's the only reason why, Ash? You could bribe them to stay away."
He mock-gasps. "Maeve Foster!"
"You're lying if you tell me you've never—"
"Can we not talk about my past," he interrupts. "I'm only interested in you. Here and now."
"Oh? Here? I thought you invited me to your room?" I chuckle again at his confused expression and poke him in the stomach. Ash squirms away from me. "Are you ticklish?"
"No."
"Uh huh." I run my tongue along my lips and reach out to him.
He grabs my hand. "Don't even think about it, Maeve. You'll lose."
Think about it? Hell, if only Ash knew exactly how much I imagine putting my hands on him. Tickling would be an excuse, but I doubt I need an excuse with Ash.
"Yes or no?"
"To you smuggling me into your room?"
He huffs. "Not smuggling. Like I said, visiting rooms is common."
"'Visiting'?"
"Maeve..." He pouts. "Stop teasing me."
I can't tell Ash I'm behaving like this because the suggestion both excites and scares me. And not only because we'd flaunt school rules.
Ash moves to rest his broad shoulder against the wall. "I just want time alone with you. Doesn't need to be..." He scrunches up his face. "That."
The first time I met Ash, I judged him as the guy with girls at his feet—and quite possibly on their knees in front of him. His self-assured, laid-back manner suggested to me he'd use this to his benefit and have a string of girls in his life.
I’m amused that he’s coy, nervous even, about inviting me back to his room, which makes him more endearing.
"I believe you," I whisper and step away. "You're a gentleman."
Ash moves up beside me and slips his arm around my waist. "Maeve. I'm really not."
The whispered words rush along my spine until my toes tingle.
I'm almost nineteen, and I've had a few boyfriends. Probably less than the number of girlfriends Ash has had, but I promised I wouldn't think about that.
I've visited a guy's bedroom a couple of times too, but not normally so soon.
Ash's dorm room resembles mine and Amelia's in shape and size, although the perfume and soap scent from ours is replaced with strong deodorant and an underlying 'guy smell'.
I can't see the floor either—discarded clothes and plates cover the rug in between, and video game controllers are slung onto the seats.
Ash's bed takes up the same position as mine. I perch on top of his dark blue duvet and my eyes are drawn to his nightstand. A framed photo is displayed between discarded drinks cans and crisp packets.
As Ash looks for drinks, I take hold of the frame. Ash standing with his parents and brother, on a white sandy beach in front of a shining blue ocean. Both brothers wear blue board shorts showing their tanned legs.
Vincent's chest is bare and Ash wears a blue shirt, unbuttoned. Curls hang around the teens' faces and their happiness radiates from the sunny image. The casual way Vincent drapes his arm around Ash's shoulders reminds me of Ash's behaviour towards friends.
I'm surprised how slight their mother is. Not all shifters are large, as this depends on the animal they shift into, but Vincent is twice as tall as her. Although Ash must be a younger teen, as he hasn't filled out as much as his brother, but he still eclipses his mum.
Their dad is bigger, but not bulky enough to draw peoples' eyes the way his sons do. His dark hair is short and close-cropped, his mother's tied from her face.
A beautiful, happy family holidaying in the sun.
Ash takes the frame from me. "That's the last holiday we went on together. Greece. Bloody hot but fun."
"You're a lot smaller than your brother. Not anymore."
"He'll always be the biggest and best at everything." Ash says this without jealousy, as if it's always been that way.
He sets the frame back on the nightstand and holds out a drink can to me.
"I'm glad things have worked out," I say.
"Hopefully." The bed sinks as Ash drops onto it beside me, and we sit side by side drinking Coke. I'm not uncomfortable, but sitting alone with Ash on a bed in his room adds an atmosphere we can't ignore.
He rests against the wall at the other side of his bed, and I fold my legs beneath me and snuggle up to him, putting an arm across his chest.
"You worry about Vincent, don't you?"
"I believe him," he shoots back.
"That's not what I meant." His defensiveness comes too readily. "You worry about his health. I think him working at the academy is good."
Ash relaxes and his arm goes around my shoulders. "I guess."
I shift to look at him. "What do you mean?"
"He's always overshadowed me, y'know? And I worry how he'll cope. At home, he'd wake up screaming in the night. Vince isn't himself. Not yet."
The strain on Ash's face matches the times he spoke about his missing brother—his brother who isn't a hundred percent back yet.
"Don't get me wrong, I like having Vince around, but you know how it is with siblings." He slurps from his can.
"Not really. I don't have one."
"Oh. Yeah." He runs his hand across the top of his head. "Siblings don't see eye to eye on some things."
Where Ash takes my hand and runs a finger across the back, my skin tickles. "Perhaps Vincent would like it if people treated him normally," I suggest. "He must hate the scrutiny."
"You don't know him," mutters Ash. "Let's not talk about Vince. I have important questions for you."
"Oh?"
He takes my can and sets it on the
table. "How many more kisses until I reach my allocated one hundred?"
"Hmmm." I tap my lips with a teasing smile. "I'm not sure. Are we down ninety-five?"
He shifts closer and the familiar fluttering begins in my chest. His eyes drop to my mouth. "Some of those weren't kisses. I refuse to accept a quick kiss on the mouth counts."
I rub my lips together as his darkening eyes meet mine and slide my hand around his waist. I'd love to push my hands beneath his shirt and feel the muscles I saw in the photo, to hold him closer now there's less between us, but I'm still unsure what we're doing. Where we're going.
Chapter Nine
MAEVE
Ash's lips touch my cheek and he holds my head as he moves them across my face towards my ear. "If I'm on a limit, I'd better make sure the kisses are good ones," he whispers and I shiver as he nips my earlobe.
"I don't doubt they will be," I murmur as I slide my fingers into the back of his hair.
The expectation hovers, the unspoken attempts to gauge what happens next, and to read body language cues. Intense brown eyes look into mine and tell me exactly what he’s planning to do. I fight to hide what I want too, but I'm damn sure I'm easily readable.
Ash's mouth crashes on mine, wiping the hesitancy around the whole situation away. The suddenness is matched by my surprising, overwhelming need to respond. I grab Ash round the neck and kiss him back. Hard. He grips my hair in his fist, holding my head so I can't move, deepening his kiss. The intensity of the moment snatches away my inhibition as I relish the way his tongue explores my mouth.
Ash holds my waist with his other arm and pulls me onto him as he drops back onto the bed. I'm all for climbing on top of him and pulling off his T-shirt, but he hasn't touched my skin yet. Marvelling at my restraint, I dig my fingers into his hair and the kiss continues with neither of us stopping for air.
Slipping his hand beneath the back of my shirt, he runs his fingers along my lower back, a shiver shooting from the sensitive spot at the base of my spine to my toes. Sliding his hands around to my waist, he pulls me onto him, the touch igniting my skin.
I delve my hands beneath his T-shirt, and Ash’s soft skin is at odds with the hard abs. I dig my nails into his side as we continue to explore each other's mouths, as if that will hold us back. I'm shaking because I want to, but don't, at the same time.
Ash pulls his mouth away. Our hot, heavy breaths mingle and every nerve ending in my body is alight as he pushes my long hair from where it half-covers his face. His breath comes quicker to match mine.
"You're special, Maeve," he runs his fingers along my lips, swollen from his hard kiss. "I don't want to push this and scare you away."
I chuckle and rest my head on his. "You don't scare me, Ash."
"I did once."
"You were angry."
He huffs and holds my cheeks in both hands. "The anger that takes over until I can't think, Maeve."
How hard is he trying to hold back the raw power—how controlled is Ash as he moves towards his shifter future?
"Are you worried you'll hurt me?" I whisper.
Ash is tender with a gentle soul, but the way he kisses me spins my head. I’ve experienced the possessive, passionate need beneath this gentleness, but I trust him.
"No. Sort of." He pulls my bottom lip down with one finger. "Shifters don't lack control around witches like vamps do, but we're driven by something primal."
My aunt's words drift into my head, about liking primal guys and how she worried Ash might devour me. My heart thumps harder as I snatch a memory of the out of control Ash outside his parents' pub. Surely, he'd never lose control with me?
I sit back, still straddling his hips, and smooth his T-shirt back down with my palms. "Do you mean you want to stop? Slow down?"
He groans. "Hell, no. But I'm cautious." He frowns when I burst out laughing. "What?"
"I guarantee I'll tell you if you're going too far, Ash." I place a hand over his rapid heartbeat. "Don't overthink this."
Ash opens his mouth to protest, and I lean forward to close mine over his. He kisses me softly again, his touch light as he works his fingers beneath my T-shirt again.
With a sigh, I push my hands back beneath his shirt too and hold him to me. The heat from Ash's skin runs hot through my veins and sends tiny explosions across my skin.
Did I intend this? Maybe. I know we'll stop, but because he has more self-control than I do. My body aches for more, and for the day we're close enough that he doesn't overthink. I've caught glimpses what kind of lover Ash would make. But not yet.
But also, that doesn't mean we can't go with more than kisses.
The way our bodies shape against each other pulls us into our intense world where we can escape the way we did in the snow. Ash runs his tongue along my bottom lip and I part my mouth, allowing him to kiss me deeply again. Losing my grasp on anything but the places our bodies touch, I grip his hair and tangle my tongue with his. He tastes of Coca Cola and of the guy whose passion sent me sky-high at the winter ball.
Ash moves to kiss my neck, his stubble scraping along the skin, firing heat to the centre of me. He places his lips gently against the sensitive spot beneath my ear. His hair tickles as he moves to planting kisses along my throat, before crushing his mouth against mine again.
Someone hammers on the door and Ash abruptly stops. I pull back, half-amused by the look of panic on his face. His hair is mussed and cheeks flushed as he pulls his T-shirt back across the hardened muscle I'd love to see more of. Damn.
I curse the person on the other side of the door as I climb from him and straighten my clothes.
"Did you lock the door?" I ask and smooth my hair.
We're not naked, but if somebody walks in, we can't hide we're doing more than chatting.
Ash frowns. "Yeah. Who the hell is—"
"Ashley? Get your arse out here." Ash's expression freezes as Vincent yells through the door.
He jumps to his feet in a flash and runs his hands through his hair in an attempt to look closer to normal.
"You look more dishevelled now you've done that," I say with a laugh.
"Shit." He darts a look around the room.
"Calm down, Ash, we're not naked." I sit back on the bed.
But whether we're naked or not isn't the problem. I'm not stupid—the problem is I'm here with Ash.
"I'll wait, and he'll go." He perches on the bed beside me and I take his hand to run my fingers along his arm.
"Ashley! I need your help. Now." For someone desperate for help, he sounds demanding. "What the hell are you doing in there?"
"Shit." Ash stands and drags the door open. Vincent stands, arms crossed, immediately looking behind Ash to where I sit on the bed. "What's wrong, Vince?"
Vincent's eyes remain on mine and his face hardens. "I need you to help me with team selections."
"What the hell? Now? Why?"
"I didn't think you'd be busy."
"Vince, I'm tired. We have all day tomorrow."
"And I'm busy tomorrow," he says in a hard tone. "I have to attend a meeting with the shifter council and more bloody health examinations."
Ash's shoulders droop. "Oh. I didn't realise."
He looks Ash straight in the eye. "I can't do all this without help. I thought you'd understand."
"You never said you needed help. I saw you earlier."
Uncomfortable at them bordering on an argument, I look away and slip my shoes on. Ash half closes the door to block me from Vincent's view, and their conversation continues in low, urgent tones.
My stomach sickens, a deep discomfort replacing the arousal. I'm aware how Vincent feels about witches, and my discomfort turns to irritation. I stand.
Sidling around the half-open door, I look at Ash and ignore Vincent. "I have to go, Ash."
His cheeks are flushed still and he self-consciously pulls at his top again.
Before I leave, I need to know one thing.
Tiptoeing, I place my lips against Ash'
s and wait for his reaction. Instead of hugging me, he rubs both my arms in a weird, affectionate—but not intimate—gesture.
"I'll catch you tomorrow at class," I say and he nods.
Vincent doesn't speak so I give him a thin-lipped smile. "Nice to finally meet you, by the way."
Leaving my pointed comment behind, I walk away. Ash didn't introduce us, and I'd almost think he's ashamed of me. Shaking with a mix of anger and frustration, I make my way from the Gilgamesh building.
How influenced by his brother will Ash be? I swallow the rising lump in my throat and fight frustrated tears. Fine. Vincent can come between me and Ash, but I refuse to let him interfere in Ash's friendship with witches.
Vincent can't storm into the academy and break Ash's connection to us.
Can he?
Chapter Ten
MAEVE
The witches' sanctum's vibe sets me on edge. I’ve visited a few times since the day the ground shook and nothing more happened, but the event sticks with me. Each time I’m beneath the library in the secretive chamber, I’m paranoid the walls will close in or the roof will crash down on the small room.
Which is how I feel about my life too.
The witch students visit the sanctum in pairs as usual. I work with Jamie in the same room as always, and this time Jade and Bianca join us. They wander to the other room along the narrow hallway, chatting about their Christmas, ignoring the task list Jamie hands to them.
Alone in the room, I resort to pleasantries, as I don’t know where to start our conversation. We attended class yesterday and met up at dinner and in the common room, but this is our first chance to discuss events alone.
Where do I start?
"How was your Christmas, Jamie? You haven't spoken much about it."
He pulls his laptop from his bag. "Stressful. Since Theodora told Mum and Dad about your visions, they’re paranoid I’ll get hurt. They almost refused to let me return to the academy. I had to remind them I’m safer here."
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