Oberon Academy Book Three: The Sylph

by Wendi Wilson

  What was he doing? Intentionally inciting my anger to provoke a response?

  It worked. As fury flared to life inside me, the flames snaked out even further. My surprise tempered my anger, and they began to shrink. I struggled to push more power into them, but they continued to recede. I let my head drop in defeat.

  Then snapped it back up as several things happened at once. Cris’s warm palm wrapped around my forearm, about half-way between my wrist and elbow. Electric shocks zipped through me, making my scalp crawl and my breath shutter.

  Almost instantly, the flames snaked outward, flying through the air in a low arc before pulling taut. The ends snapped, creating twin cracks that echoed in our ears. The curtains covering the windows across the room burst into flames just before my fire whips disintegrated.

  Without a thought, I called for water. Rain pelted the fabric window coverings, making the flames sizzle before extinguishing them completely. When nothing but a few wisps of smoke remained, I let the water recede and looked over at my father, my eyebrows raised.

  “Sorry,” he said, scrubbing a palm against the back of his neck. “I was just trying to help.”

  “Well, you helped all right,” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t practice fire in my office. You have a penchant for destroying things,” he joked, his smile forming deep dimples on either side of his mouth.

  “Hey,” I argued, “that wasn’t my fault. You’re the one that grabbed me, remember?”

  Cris laughed then, a real laugh filled with joy that was truly infectious. I couldn’t deny my own smile, even though the smell of burnt fabric burned in my nostrils, reminding me how serious the situation really was.

  “Did you see them?” he gushed, waving his index fingers toward the windows like pistols while making whooshing sounds. “They were so awesome.”

  My humor faded, doused like the flames under the pelting rain I’d created. Something was off about him. Something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  “Dad? Are you okay?” I asked, my eyes searching his face.

  The smile on his face fell as he stared back at me. “Yeah, I’m fine. Why?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, my forehead wrinkling as I drew my eyebrows in. “You were just acting weird. Not like yourself.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up, and his eyes danced with laughter. He stepped forward and grasped my shoulders as he stared deep into my eyes. His Glamour dropped and his black wings unfurled behind him. His blue eyes darkened, the color leeching from them until they were solid black.

  “I’m not hiding anything from you, December. Not anymore. This is the real me.”

  “But—”

  “I understand,” he said, cutting me off. “You’ve only ever seen my stodgy, demanding, worried side. But being a Zephyr-prince-turned-traitor is not all I am. Being your father, a man who lost his love and the child he never knew about all at once is only a part of me. I like to have fun. I have a sense of humor. I like to laugh and joke just like everyone else.”

  “Well, this is the first I’ve ever seen of it,” I quipped, arching a brow at him.

  He laughed, and I couldn’t help but laugh with him. Even though it threw me off at first, I liked this new, silly side of my father.

  We had so much to learn about each other. And I looked forward to every minute of it…once we solved the problem of having to keep him hidden and out of the council’s notice.

  And solve it, we would. I just wasn’t sure how long it would take.

  CHAPTER 12

  The week flew by, each day much the same as the one before it. I’d attend class, sit with Shaela, Easton, and Charles at lunch, and train with my father after classes ended. Puck’s lessons in sociology continued along the same vein, lambasting the Sylphs for not circumventing the humans’ destruction of the planet.

  The only thing that remained ever-changing was Shaela’s personality. Whenever she spent time with her grandfather, she was moody and short-tempered when she returned. She’d defend his words and his actions, and I had to tread lightly to avoid her wrath. One wrong word, anything that could be construed as negative about Puck, and she would lash out.

  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 belly 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 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.