Forbidden Tutor

by Chantal Cross

  My cheeks flush as soon as the thought forms. I quickly push the image of Leo in a bed out of my head. I can’t believe I told him that I want him. It doesn’t matter that it’s true. There are a hundred reasons why I shouldn’t feel the way I do about him. Why can’t I simply control myself? Why is that so impossible? Cordelia tried to teach me. I should’ve listened more.

  Even though the jewel-studded doors leading into Leo’s office are open, I still knock.

  “Ebony, is that you?” He calls.

  Heat rushes through my body at the sound of his voice. I take a few moments to steady my breathing.

  “Ebony?”

  “Uh, yes. You wanted to see me?”

  “Come in, please.”

  I step into the office. Leo’s standing in front of his desk with his arms folded over his chest. His eyes are filled with sadness. My shoulders tense up.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “Sit down, please.” He gestures to one of the plush chairs in front of his desk.

  “I don’t want to.” My feet turn to lead. Whatever he’s going to tell me is bad, I can feel it.

  “Ebony,” he sighs. “Sit down.” His voice leaves no room for argument. My heart pounds louder with every step. I fall into the chair rather than sit on it.

  “Just tell me what’s going on. You’re scaring me.”

  I realize too late that it’s not a good idea to admit fear to someone like Leo. He doesn’t answer me right away. He walks back behind his desk and takes a seat. He’s struggling to come up with the right words. I can see it in his eyes.

  “Your page said this has something to do with Cordelia,” I prompt. “Is she pulling me out of school?”

  It’s the only thing I can think of that makes sense. She wants me away from temptation. I’m sure she’d like nothing more than to lock me away in her big, old house. I’d only show my face at garden parties or fancy dinners. I’d never talk to another boy again.

  A few weeks ago, that fate would’ve terrified me. Now, it doesn’t seem so bad. In fact, it almost seems smart. Cordelia’s a powerful witch. Rhiannon is weak. They’d be evenly matched should it come to that.

  “No.” His voice is husky and strained.

  “What is it, then? Just come out and tell me. Or do you like seeing me nervous?”

  A hint of a smirk flashes in the corner of his mouth but it quickly disappears.

  “What I’m about to tell you is difficult,” he says. “I’m trying to spare you as much discomfort as I can.”

  “You’re doing a terrible job. Please, just tell me!” I exclaim.

  “Cordelia’s dead.”

  The world tips on its axis. My back slams into the back of the chair.

  “What?” My voice comes out high and pinched. “How?”

  “Ebony, I don’t want to-”

  “Just tell me how it happened!” I shout.

  “I don’t know all of the details,” he says gently. He’s trying to spare me pain. I can see the struggle plainly on his face. “She was found in her home. The investigators don’t think it was a natural death.”

  “Murder?”

  “Possibly. Or an accident. They aren’t sure.”

  “What kind of accident?”

  “Ebony, I’m sorry. I’m just the Headmaster of this school. My word is law within these walls but I don’t have authority over the investigators.”

  “Right.” I nod. My head feels heavy. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel. Cordelia was the only person in my life that came close to a parental role. I never felt that mother-daughter bond I always longed for with Cordelia. She never allowed our relationship to flourish the way it could have. But she always made sure that Seth, Gabriel, and I had a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs and good food in our bellies. She was strict, sometimes downright horrible, but she always believed she was doing the correct thing.

  Up until she poisoned me, of course. Even then, she thought she was doing the right thing. Maybe I should’ve given her another chance when she tried to reconcile at Dorian’s funeral. Maybe I should’ve done more.

  Now, I’ll never know what would’ve happened between us.

  “Ebony, are you all right?”

  “You just told me my mother is dead. Of course, I’m not all right!” I surprise myself by calling Cordelia my mother. Leo’s surprised as well but he tries to hide it.

  “I’m so sorry,” he says. “I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you.”

  “I don’t believe for one second that her death was accidental.” The words tumble out before I know what I’m saying.

  “Ebony,” Leo sighs.

  “Stop saying my name like that,” I snap.

  “Like what?”

  “Like I’m a poor, wounded animal that needs coddling. It’s insulting.” I fold my arms over my chest.

  “You’ve been given a terrible shock,” he says in his defense.

  “No shit. Cordelia was murdered!”

  Leo blinks in surprise. I never speak so coarsely, but I feel it’s justified.

  “We don’t know that.”

  “Oh, please,” I roll my eyes. “Someone like Cordelia doesn’t accidentally stab herself with a knife or poison herself. Her spells don’t ever backfire. She is, was, the most deliberate person I’ve ever met.”

  “You don’t have the facts. Neither do I. I don’t think it’ll do you any good to assume things,” Leo says. He doesn’t look at me when he speaks. I don’t blame him. I’m staring daggers at him for no good reason other than the fact that I’m mad and he’s here.

  “You know someone did something to her,” I insist. “I know you don’t know the particulars but you knew Cordelia.”

  “I did,” he nods.

  “You know it wasn’t an accident,” I insist.

  “Fine,” he agrees. “From what the authorities told me, I don’t think it’s an accident.”

  Something inside me softens. I try to smile but it doesn’t work.

  “I appreciate that you’re trying to make it easier on me,” I say. “I can handle the reality of this. You need to trust me on that. Pretending her death was an accident won’t help me in the long run.”

  “What will help you, Ebony?” Leo says my name so gently it makes me want to cry. The last thing I need is to fall apart at his desk.

  “The truth.” My voice wobbles. “All my life people have kept secrets from me. It’s never once made my life better or easier. People think I can’t handle the harsh realities of life or they think they’re protecting me by lying. People don’t help me when they lie. They help themselves.”

  “I don’t think that’s entirely true.” Leo stands up and walks around his desk to kneel beside my chair.

  “My life would be so different now if others hadn’t taken it upon themselves to keep me as far from the truth as possible,” I say. “Don’t I deserve honesty?”

  Tears well up in my eyes. I fight to keep them contained.

  “If you need to cry, go ahead.” Leo rests his hand on my arm. “You’re allowed to express how you feel. You’re allowed to be sad, angry, or whatever you need to feel to get through this.”

  I suck in a quivering breath and bite down on my lip.

  “I,” my voice cracks. Tears spill over and chase each other down my cheeks. “I just don’t understand why everything has to be so awful. I want to know what happened to Cordelia. I want the truth.”

  “Okay,” Leo says softly. “I’ll tell you the truth. I know what happened to Cordelia.”

  “But you said-”

  “I know. I was trying to protect you,” he shakes his head. “I understand now that lying to you won’t help in the long run. You’ve been through so much. You’ve earned the honesty of others.”

  “Thank you.” I sniffle and wipe my tears on my sleeve. “Tell me, please. I can take it.”

  “It was Wrath.”

  I close my eyes and slump down in my chair.

  “Of course.” I nod. “
Why didn’t I think of that sooner?”

  “I should’ve been keeping tabs on him,” Leo sighs. “I’m sorry, Ebony.”

  “It’s not your fault. I don’t know much about Wrath but from what I gather, he’s unpredictable.”

  “That’s certainly true. Still, I should’ve done better. I’m sorry I let you down.”

  Leo entwines his fingers through mine. I don’t pull away.

  We sit in silence for a long time.

  26

  Leo

  Her fingers laced between mine feels right. So right. If only I can push back the guilt I feel at lying to her, then the moment would be as perfect as I’m picturing it in my head.

  I know it’s wrong to think of perfection when I’m sat hand-in-hand with a girl mourning the death of her stepmother, but I can’t help myself. This moment right here could be flawless. The two of us so lost in each other that we forget about the horror that’s brought us closer together in the first place.

  But no, my guilt has to ruin this for me. That and my pride.

  The two of them are vying for position for the dominant emotion, neither of them able to get a purchase on the top spot.

  I’m guilt-ridden, ashamed, and untrue. I’ve always held myself to the highest standard, never able to accept less even when others have. Yet I’m able to look in the eyes of the woman I love and speak untruths to her.

  Suddenly, Ebony removes her hand. Removes herself entirely. She starts pacing about the room, her eyes darting back and forth as she goes. Unfocused on anything, she walks in a daze, guided by her grief and nothing else.

  Seeing this hurts most of all.

  I pride myself on being a strong individual, a man capable of enduring pain in its many forms. When Snow died, I wanted to crumble, but I held my emotions back and waited for her return. I knew it would come, it was only a matter of time. And even when Ebony joined as a student, I kept true to my resolve and maintained a steady distance. My job was to look from afar. I wanted to be close to her, but I wanted the timing to be right also.

  Now I’m this sorrowful husk, unable to get a harness on his emotions because they’re determined by someone unstable and unpredictable.

  Ebony has broken me, and in some ways, I welcome the transformation. The question however, is whether it’s permanent or just a personality I’m assuming because she’s upset and I feel to blame.

  I am to blame.

  No matter how much I tell myself what I did was right, I’m still dogged by anxiety. Ever since I left Cordelia’s house and drove back here, anxiety and fear have been my constant companions. Even now, they’re with me. Only this time around they have company in the form of Ebony’s reeling emotions as well. The pair of us keep the same company; it’d be funny if it wasn’t brought about by the death of a soul. A life extinguished.

  I’ve made such a mess of things. And worst of all is how it’s come about by me trying to do right by Ebony.

  Granted, there’s selfish reasons there too, mainly how I need her alive in order for Rhiannon to thrive. But the more time I spend with Ebony, the more I wonder if that’s what I’m even doing anymore. It used to be clear to me, yet now it’s not as transparent. My vision grows blurry, my judgment clouded the longer I stay around her.

  Rubbing my forehead harshly with my fingertips, I keep my tone low as I speak; I don’t wish to upset her further.

  “Ebony, please, you need to stop pacing.”

  She doesn’t hear me, or if she does, she simply doesn’t give a damn enough to do anything about it. Considering how fraught her mind is right now, I don’t blame her either way. However, that doesn’t mean I’m going to sit by idly and watch her worry herself to death.

  Moving past my desk and over to her, I grab her by the arms to still her body. If I can’t help her mind, I can at least stop her trance-like state. Finally, she looks at me, really seeing me for the first time in a long time. Tears streak her unblemished skin, much to my ever increasing sorrow.

  “Leo, it’s my fault, it, it’s… all… m-my…” Her speech falls away to sobs. They rack her body and force her to shudder, her whole frame rippling under the might of it. Feeling her trembling like this makes me want to pull her close, to whisper it’ll be okay. “Oh… Leo…!”

  Unexpectedly, she throws herself into my arms. Her body is incredibly heavy, the full weight of her pain coming to bear down on her delicate figure. I know that’s the only reason why she clings to me like this, if it wasn’t for grief, she wouldn’t come to me so openly. However, I’m not about to turn her away.

  Drawing her deeper into me, we embrace in a way committed lovers do.

  There’s no lust to our joining, only a need to be close to one another, to lose ourselves to a moment free of torment and anguish. And while my actions may appear unjust, at the core of my behavior all I long to do is make her life better. If my touch can do that, I’ll hold her until the night rolls in.

  “Shh, there, there, Ebony. It’s okay, it’s okay.” I promise, her head nuzzling into my chest while tears soak me through.

  My shirt is already sodden, her salty tears coating me in a twisted sort of irony. I’m the murderer, yet I bring the solace she needs. If I were a moral person, I’d push her away, explaining to her that I’ve done horrible things to get her to come to me like this. My murdering Cordelia wasn’t my plan, but it’s allowed me to have an intimacy with Ebony I hadn’t thought possible. Her death has served me well.

  “How will this ever be okay, Leo? She’s… gone, she’s really gone…” Ebony weeps.

  “She wouldn’t want you like this, she’d want you to stay strong, to remember her fondly.” I also feel like adding that she wanted Ebony dead. How the woman was a misguided fool driven to madness by her own fears. But I refrain from doing so. It would be cruel and far too crass of me.

  “I loved her… even though she didn’t love me, I never wanted this… I-I… I’m wicked—”

  “Stop that right now,” I say, lifting her head so that we’re looking directly into one another’s eyes. “you’re a wonderful person, strong as you are stubborn. It’s not wicked to want to experience the exuberance of life, to live it to the fullest. You’re 18 years old, Ebony, you’re meant to be wild and free. There’s nothing wicked about that.”

  I realize I’ve made too grand and bold a speech. However, she stares back at me appreciatively, her lashes glimmering with some of her tears.

  “Thank you, Leo.” She stands on her tiptoes then, her mouth coming toward mine. At the last moment however, she deviates and nudges against my cheek with her nose instead. It’s meant as a sign of affection, the only one she knows is safe to give.

  Not daring to look back at her face, to see the passion filling in her eyes, I lift my hand and stroke her hair. The two of us silently embracing in the middle of my study.

  She went to kiss me. Ebony had acted of her own free will, longing for comfort from me in a way she’s never tried to take before, at least not so affectionately.

  We’d come close to kissing so many times now, but it’s always been fueled by lust. By sex. We’ve wanted to tear each other's clothes off, yet have always managed to halt our desires due to interruptions, a need to stay hidden, a fear of the taboo. You name it, it’s kept us apart.

  And now we’re here. Together. A couple, for all intents and purposes. Not like the ones you read about in books, however there’s a bond between us that I feel pulling at my heart. It draws me in, calling to me. It begs for me to keep my sincerity, to remain like this even once the pain stops.

  To my amazement, I ask myself if I can give her over to my Queen.

  Is Rhiannon even my Queen any longer? All this time I’ve spent with Ebony, I’ve told myself I’m in control, tasked with making her strong so that she’s a worthy vessel. Now however, I wonder if I’ve been played by Ebony, albeit unknowingly. My plans have been subverted, turned against me.

  I can hear Rhiannon now as I think on this, can almost hear her screaming
bloody vengeance at my weakness. But if love is such a weakness, why do I want it so badly — no one would knowingly seek what’ll hurt them. Besides, even if I was doing such a stupid thing, I haven’t the power to stop it happening. Ebony has undermined my resolve.

  She’s shown me her purity. How genuine and true it is. It’s impossible to ignore, and even if I could, I don’t think I’d want to.

  Ebony deserves to live a life free of the madness that being Snow White brings. If I truly love her the way I think I do, how can I take this away from her and call it love?

  When the power surge happens again, do I watch it burn her alive and make her into the Queen.

  Or do I help her and give a lifeline?

  27

  Seth

  “I know you’re hiding something, Ebony, but what is it?”

  I’m talking to myself, the first sign of madness they say. But if it is, then so be it. I’m mad. I’ve been mad for years, ever since I lost my love and was forced to come back in this form. At one time, I’d believed that by being Seth I could have the love I’d lost, however I now see how childish a notion that is.

  I’ll never have her. Ebony doesn’t want me.

  Tossing more of her clothes onto the floor, I turn out her drawers one at a time. A shower of colors and textures come my way, yet I pay them no mind. They’re not what I seek. What I want is far more valuable than her underwear and sparkly tops, it’s proof of her deception that I’m after.

  When I’d left her on the roof, I’d vowed to find out her secrets. Every dirty, last one of them. Ebony thinks me stupid, thinks me too blind by affection to sniff out her lies. But she’s a fool if she believes I won’t turn her out into the cold once I know the truth. I’ll show her, I’ll make sure she never forgets of my determination.

  I just need evidence…

  “What’s going on here?!” Lucien cries. Spinning around to meet him, I note the confusion on his face. I have to act. To cover up my snooping before he runs off and tells Ebony — if she finds out, she’ll have time to come back here and hide the proof I need elsewhere.