by Wendi Wilson
But when she spent time away from him, the anger and defensive attitude faded. The longer she was with me, the more like herself she became. It was during one of those moments of sanity that I’d asked her about her mood swings.
She’d brushed me off, saying that she had just been tired, or cranky, or hungry. She apologized and promised not to take her bad mood out on me again, but I knew it would happen. It always did.
I started making excuses to leave when she’d get back from her time with him, just to avoid the inevitable confrontation. Something had to give. We couldn’t go on like that anymore.
On Friday night, I left our room before she got back from visiting Puck. She’d flared up at me at lunch when I made a simple comment about Puck’s lesson in sociology and how he seemed bitter toward the council, even after they’d reinstated him and installed him as a teacher. Shaela took offense, snapping at me in his defense, despite the fact that I hadn’t actually been insulting him. It was just an observation.
I didn’t feel like getting into it with her again, so I slunk away, heading toward the boys’ wing and Easton’s room. I rapped my knuckles against the wood door and waited. When the panel swung inward, I opened my mouth to greet my boyfriend, then snapped it shut. Standing behind him, inside the room, was Charles Everest.
“Hey, D,” he said as I slipped past Easton to enter the room.
“Hey, Charles. You okay?”
He didn’t look so good. His face was drawn and pale, his mouth set in a tight line. His uniform was wrinkled, his tie askew, and his hair was mussed like he’d dragged his fingers through it again and again.
“Yes. No. I don’t know,” he stuttered, then plopped into Easton’s desk chair with a huff.
“He’s worried about Shaela,” Easton explained, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.
“Aren’t we all,” I muttered. I looked at Charles. “Has she been acting strange with you, too?”
“It’s nothing that would be glaringly obvious,” he said. “She’s weirdly protective of Professor Goodman. Like, more than you’d expect for a man she just met, grandfather or not. She’s easily distracted, lost in her own head, when she usually gives me her full attention when we’re together.”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m getting from her, too.” My eyes chased from Charles to Easton. “Do you think he’s using his ability to Glamour her?”
“It seems like it, doesn’t it? Shaela is acting out of character, specifically after spending time alone with Puck,” Easton said. “And his aura is strange.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“It’s constant. Every time I see it, it’s some shade of purple. Like he’s always filled with satisfaction or approval. There’s never anything else.”
“That’s not possible,” Charles said. “He’s alive and has a brain, which means he has to feel other emotions. It has to be a Glamour. He’s somehow making it look purple to you, no matter what he’s feeling.”
“Unless he can control his feelings when he’s around Easton. Puck obviously knows Easton can read auras and has somehow trained his mind to only feel purple emotions,” I said.
“I guess that could be possible,” Easton replied, “but I don’t think so. I’ve seen him, through doorways, across rooms, when he could have no idea I was around. It was still the same—purple—and it was not for my benefit.”
“I may have an idea,” I said, biting my bottom lip as the beginnings of a plan formed in my mind. “You know how I broke Finn’s control over you the night Sebille attacked the school? And how I broke Sebille’s control over Cris? What if I could, somehow, break Puck’s Glamour so Easton could see his true aura?”
“That would be cool, but how would it help us with Shaela? I feel like she’s slipping away from us,” Charles said.
“It’s information, and any information could be helpful. We can start there. If it works, I can tell what he’s really feeling when he’s around Shaela, the other students, and the faculty.”
“In the meantime, try to keep things as normal as possible,” I said, staring into Charles’s sad eyes. “Try not to rile her up or alienate her. We can’t have her slipping further away.”
“Okay, I’ll try,” he said, then he stood, said goodbye to us, and left.
“Poor guy,” Easton said after the door swung closed behind him. “I don’t know what I’d do if I were in his shoes.”
“He loves her,” I mumbled, staring at the closed door.
“How do you know?”
My eyes shifted to Easton. “He said it when he thought she’d fallen asleep. Shaela isn’t certain of her feelings yet, so she just pretended she hadn’t heard.”
“Wow,” he said. “Now I feel really sorry for him.”
“We’re going to fix this,” I said, my voice firm with a confidence I didn’t necessarily feel. “We’re going to get rid of Puck, get Shaela back, and everything will return to normal.”
“When you say it, I believe it,” he said, holding out a hand to me.
When I placed my hand in his, he gave it a tug. I stumbled forward, landing on top of him as he fell back against the mattress. I sprawled against his chest, our legs tangling together as he lifted his head and captured my lips in a searing kiss.
For a brief moment in time, I stiffened, my brain telling me I should feel guilty. That there were too many things in my life that were teetering on the edge of disaster. I should have been out there, helping the people I cared about, not lying in a bed, making out with my smoking hot boyfriend.
But those thoughts were quickly chased away by more reasonable ones. At least, they seemed more reasonable at the time. I deserved a break. With everything in my life that was spinning out of control, I needed to make time to enjoy the few good, unspoiled parts.
And my relationship with Easton was one of them.
The pressure of his lips, the velvety softness of his tongue, and the hard ridges of his chest pressed against mine all worked together to chase all coherent thoughts from my mind. My senses guided me.
He tasted like mint and smelled like a mixture of citrus and wood. His hair was silky and smooth against my fingertips as I tunneled my hands through it, gripping it to hold him in place while I took over the kiss.
He groaned, and his arms tightened around me. In one swift movement, he reversed our positions. His delicious weight pressed me down into the mattress as he pulled back, breaking off our kiss. I opened my eyes to see him staring down at me.
His light blue eyes swirled with silver, his aura bathing the room in a bright pink glow. His hair stood out in pointy spikes where I’d gripped it, and short, panting breaths huffed in and out of his open mouth. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to my neck, just below my ear.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing another kiss to the same spot. “And smart.” Another kiss, this one a little further down the column of my throat. “And funny.” Kiss. “And feisty.”
His lips trailed lower and lower as he spoke, his husky words causing just as much heat to build up inside me as his kisses. My legs slipped up, around his waist, my ankles locking behind him. His fingers moved to the front of my shirt, undoing the buttons as his mouth moved lower and lower.
“I love your stubborn streak,” he said, his mouth travelling across the upper swells of my chest. “I love your dedication to the ones you care about.”
Something unintelligible vibrated from my throat, and not even I knew what I’d been trying to say. We’d gone this far before, done the things we were doing in that moment, but something about this time felt different. It felt…more.
Easton finished unbuttoning my shirt and smoothed the edges against my sides. His mouth trailed down my sternum, his tongue dancing across my skin as he kissed his way to my navel. My ankles broke apart, my feet dropping to the mattress as he moved his body down mine. I lifted my head so I could watch him and met his silvery-blue stare.
He held my gaze as his tongue swirled around my b
elly button, making my hips buck in response. He smiled, and his mouth followed the same path back up that it had taken down. When he reached my mouth, he paused, his lips a hair’s-breadth away from mine.
“I love you, December Thorne,” he said, his eyes locked on mine.
Then he was kissing me, no response needed or expected. He knew I loved him. That I needed him, and that his words were like a balm to my hurting soul.
And while I knew he wanted more, to take things to the next level, he didn’t press me. If I was being completely honest with myself, I wanted it, too. The way he made me feel, the things he did to my body…I wanted more. Needed it.
But the timing wasn’t right. A dark cloud surrounded us, just outside our bubble of intimacy. Any firsts we might share needed to wait until that cloud was gone, so that our memory of them wouldn’t be tainted by negativity.
We would figure out what was going on with Puck, save Shaela from his dark influence, and absolve my father of any wrongdoing, getting him reinstated to his rightful place in the academy. Once our lives were back in order, we’d focus on ourselves and our physical needs.
Easton rolled off of me, pulling me with him so we lay on our sides, facing each other. We stared at each other silently for a few moments as we caught our breath and our heartrates slowed back down to normal.
“I love you, too,” I said, kissing his lips before flipping over and pressing my back into his chest.
He nestled in closer, his arm slipping over my side to press his warm palm against my bare stomach. His free hand brushed my hair up over the pillow, and his lips touched the back of my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.
Easton chuckled, mumbled something about loving my responses, and tightened his grip on me as he laid his head down. He bent his knees, pushing them up beneath mine. He told me once the position was called “spooning.” I’d never heard of it before, but I liked it.
His breathing evened out and his arm became heavy. I grasped his hand, pulling it up to cradle against my chest and relieve the pressure of his arm across my ribs. I threaded my fingers through his and listened to his steady breathing until tendrils of sleep pulled me under, and dreams of soft hands and warm kisses danced through my head.
Chapter Eighty-Two
13
The weekend breezed by with nothing eventful happening. Shaela went home to visit her parents, taking her grandfather with her. When she told me they were going, she’d seemed so excited. Her father hadn’t had any contact with him in years, not since he was a baby, and Shaela was hoping this visit would bridge the gap and bring them all closer together.
I smiled and wished her luck, doing my best to drum up some enthusiasm for her benefit. The thought of Puck getting closer to Shaela and her family tied my stomach in knots. I wanted him away from her, not sink his claws deeper, entrenching himself in her life.
I spent some time training with Cris, strengthening my skill at forming the fire whips. By the end of our last session Sunday evening, I could call them forth and snap them out before they dissipated. If my father touched me, I could keep them formed and they would grow longer and stronger. My goal was to do that without his help. I knew I’d get there, eventually.
My time with Easton was the best part of the weekend. Without Shaela and Puck there to focus on, we were able to relax and just enjoy being together. We watched movies, walked in the woods, and just hung out.
By an unspoken agreement, we didn’t talk about my best friend, her grandfather, the council, Tiana and Aubrey, or any other subject that could be deemed stressful or negative. We took the weekend off, knowing that when Monday rolled around, we’d be back to being on high alert, watching our backs and everyone around us for possible threats.
Shaela didn’t return until late Sunday night and, though I heard her tiptoeing into our room, I pretended to be asleep. As much as I’d missed her, I didn’t want to talk to her. Not yet. Her personality took a turn for the worst after spending a few hours with Puck. I wasn’t ready to face what she’d become after spending the whole weekend in his constant presence.
I woke up early and snuck out of our room to go take care of my morning routine. After enjoying an extra-long, extra hot shower and blow drying my hair, I walked back to our room with leaden footsteps. After inhaling a fortifying breath, I pushed open the door and stepped across the threshold.
My lungs emptied as my shoulders drooped, the tension leaving my body. The room was empty, Shaela’s bed made, her many purple pillows arranged artfully against the headboard. I shuffled to my side of the room, placing my toiletries in my trunk before making my own bed.
Guilt assailed me, feeling like a one-ton weight pressing down on my spine. Shaela was my best friend—my first friend. No matter what was going on with her, I shouldn’t be avoiding her or feeling relieved that she wasn’t around. I felt like a coward, and that was one thing I never wanted to be again.
If I could face the Zephyr queen head-on, not once, but twice, then I could take whatever Shaela dished out.
Determined to find her, I headed for the dining hall. I found Easton sitting alone at our table and slid into the seat next to him.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, leaning in to kiss my lips.
“Good morning,” I murmured with a smile. “Where are Shaela and Charles?”
“She didn’t tell you?” he asked, arching a brow.
My face heated as I twisted my hands in my lap. I was sure my aura was black with shame as my eyes skittered away from his. He tilted his head to the side and lowered his chin to catch my eyes.
“What happened?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle.
“Nothing,” I admitted. “Nothing happened because I avoided her last night and this morning. When I got back from my shower, she was gone.”
“And you feel guilty about that?”
I lifted my chin with a sniff. “I was scared to face her. Afraid of how she’d act after spending all weekend with him.”
“That’s understandable,” he said. “Her behavior has proven to be erratic and unpredictable with his influence.”
“Yeah, but she’s my best friend, Easton. I know he’s doing something to her. Manipulating her emotions. Whether it’s with magic or just his silver-tongued words doesn’t matter. I need to try to break her out of it, to bring her back to us, to herself, no matter what. I can’t be a coward.”
He stared at me, letting my words hang in the air. Then he pushed a wrapped breakfast sandwich in front of me, followed by a cup of coffee. I thanked him and took a sip, groaning with pleasure. Creamy and sweet, just like I liked it. The scent of bacon and eggs hit my nostrils and I unwrapped the sandwich, taking a big bite.
“Shaela and Charles are having a little reunion,” Easton explained while I ate. “They didn’t get to see each other last night since she got in so late, so they had plans to meet up this morning before classes started.”
I nodded without comment.
“I’m sure she would have told you,” he offered.
“Yeah, if I hadn’t snuck out before she woke up and spent an hour in the bathroom.”
“Hey,” he said, his hand darting over to warm my thigh, “you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met, D. You don’t have to be strong all the time. You shouldn’t beat yourself up for having emotions. For feeling fear. Or anxiety. Give yourself a break, okay?”
I nodded, blinking back the tears that stung the corners of my eyes at his kind words. He was right. I did need to give myself a break. I’d already resolved to make things right with Shaela, and the past was the past. There was nothing I could do to change it.
I shot him a grateful look, and he squeezed my knee before pulling his hand away. We finished eating and he kissed me goodbye, needing to stop by the library before first period. I trudged my way to history with Professor Alfred.
I managed to tamp down my anxiety during my first two classes, but as I made my way to sociology, my nerves started twitching. I hadn’t run into
Shaela all morning, and I wasn’t sure which version of her I would get—my normal, happy, caring best friend, or the person she became when she spent time with her grandfather.
She was already there when I arrived, sitting at her normal desk and pulling her tablet from her bag. I slid into my seat and offered her a smile as she looked up.
“Hey,” she said, her voice chipper, “I missed you this morning.”
Relief flowed through me as she leaned across the aisle and gave me a quick hug.
“Me, too,” I said.
“Sorry I had to leave before you got back from your shower, but I had plans with Charles. How was your weekend?”
“It was good,” I said, darting a look over my shoulder at Easton, who sat in his regular seat behind me. “We just hung out, you know, the usual. How was yours?”
She rolled her eyes and groaned. “It was weird. My dad was hostile toward Grandad at first, but he eventually came around and started acting civil. But it was pretty uncomfortable. He just won’t forgive his father for leaving him.”
I bit my tongue, forcing the words back that wanted to come flowing out. Of course, her dad was hostile and unrelenting. Puck had deserted him as a baby, leaving his mother to raise him alone. And according to what Easton told me, the Fae marry for life. A magical bond ensures it. Her grandmother probably died young because of their separation.
I sucked in a quick breath at the thought. If what Easton had told me was true, how was Puck even alive? If married Fae couples separate, they grow weak and eventually die. Robin Goodman didn’t appear the least bit weakened. If he was, in fact, using magic to sway Shaela to his side, he must have been stronger than ever.
I opened my mouth to ask her about it, but the door swung open and Professor Goodman strode into the room. Shaela’s eyes lit up with happiness, and I barely stopped myself from rolling mine. I let them drift closed and took a deep, cleansing breath before reopening them and focusing on our professor.
“Good morning, class,” he called out, moving to sit on the corner of his desk.