Academy of Sorcery: Term 1: Unleashing Trials

by Alexa B. James

  “Rocco,” I call, sitting up and grabbing for the nearest thing to cover me. I come up with his shirt, which he didn’t bother to pick up on his way out. I scramble from the bed and close and lock the door, still too stunned by the orgasm that is barely finished to think clearly. I drop back onto the bed, too confused to make sense of any of it. I press Rocco’s shirt to my nose, but another smell invades my nostrils, so I burrow deeper into the smell of his shirt—deodorant and a hint of laundry detergent and something deeper, masculine, spicy. Something all Rocco.

  The sweet smell is so insistent I can’t block it out, though. I sit up and see the plant on my desk has been transformed. Instead of a wilted brown thing beyond all hope, I have a huge orchid so big it nearly overflows the pot, with a bloom stalk bursting with vibrant red blossoms, their ruffled edges glowing like sunshine.

  What is happening to me?

  I dive into bed, curl into a ball, and bury my face in Rocco’s shirt. I don’t want to think about any of it. It’s all too much. I have no clue what just happened, but I can’t forget the look on Rocco’s face before he bolted, the eyes of a madman staring back at me. I just wanted a distraction, but Rocco is so much more than that. The worst part is, now that I’ve figured that out, it’s too late. I have a sinking feeling that I just fucked up any chance of things going back to normal.

  Chapter 17

  The next morning, my door bursts open and Ryker strides in and yanks off my blanket, per usual. I don’t know why I even bother locking. The locks in this place are clearly no match for the sorcerer’s magic.

  I sit up and rake my fingers through my blonde tangles as I try to wake up. “Where’s Rocco?”

  “He’s—.” Ryker breaks off and swallows, his eyes narrowing. “Where’s your spork?”

  “Still missing,” I say with a sigh, throwing the blankets off my legs.

  “Fuck,” Ryker says, rubbing his temples. “Pretty soon I’ll have to trail around after you with a hard-on all day like a teenager with raging hormones.”

  “Sorry for the inconvenience,” I say, stomping over to my dresser and grabbing some clothes. “I’m not the one who asked for a guard.”

  “It’s necessary now more than ever,” he says.

  “Why now?” I ask.

  Ryker eyes my legs, which are long and bare, and I suddenly remember I’m not wearing anything under my T-shirt. A jolt of heat darts between my legs, and my nipples harden at the thought.

  Ugh, okay, that’s why. Because I’m horny as fuck, even after last night. Because I want him as much as I want the others.

  “Your magic isn’t finite,” Ryker says. “You channel a kind of magic that exists in the world already. If you can’t transfer it to your weapon…”

  “How can I stop channeling it?” I ask.

  “You can learn to,” he growls.

  I glare back at him and shove the drawer closed with my hip. “I’m trying.”

  “Are you? Or are you trying to drive us all insane?”

  “Fuck you.”

  “Gladly.” He takes one long stride forward and slides a hand behind my head, his body melding with mine in all the right places. I stare up at him, too shocked and breathless to protest. I can feel his cock stiffening against me, can feel the muscles of his body coiled with tension as they strain against me through my thin T-shirt. My fingers curl around his arms involuntarily. His biceps are taut, the muscles tight and trembling under my palms.

  “I would ruin you for other men,” he murmurs. “And I’d be glad.” His gaze smolders into mine, his eyes so intense it makes my thighs tremble. “Is that what you want?”

  “No,” I whisper.

  “That’s what I thought,” he says, stepping back and snatching up the clothes I dropped. He shoves them roughly into my hands, turns on his heel, and walks out, slamming the door behind him.

  I turn toward the mirror, my legs trembling. What is happening? Where is Cleo when I need her? I obviously have too much magic right now, even after last night. This can’t just be me. I tear through the drawers, emptying every last one, ransacking my desk, flipping my mattresses, hoping against desperate hope that she was here all along. But there is no Cleo. Finally, I sink down in the middle of the disaster and cry.

  Then, I get up and get ready for classes, because Ryker is waiting outside my door and if I can’t give Cleo my magic, maybe there’s another way to get rid of it. For the first time in my life, I wish I didn’t have magic. My magic isn’t a gift. It’s a curse.

  *

  “You gotta help me,” I say to Darius that afternoon. I’ve arrived at our afternoon session empty handed, still missing Cleo.

  “Jade,” he says, a smile spreading across his lips that makes my heart flutter.

  “Hi,” I breathe. I have got to stop crushing on all these men.

  “What can I help you with?” he asks, leaning back in his chair and linking his hands behind his head.

  “Is there any way you can find Cleo?” I ask. I didn’t realize I had become so attached to my weapon, but now that she’s gone, her absence is like a constant itch. Like a phantom limb that is no longer there, but who I constantly miss.

  Darius frowns. “I can try,” he says, leaning forward and clasping his hands on his desk. “I suspect that if it was really stolen, someone has put some strong protection on it.”

  “Aren’t you stronger than anyone here?” I ask.

  He smiles a bit. “It doesn’t work exactly like that. If a spell is laid first, it’s very hard to break, even for a stronger magician.”

  “Last time, Thorn had it,” I say. “Do you think…?”

  Darius’s frown deepens. “They got quite a lecture about that,” he says. “I don’t think they’d make that mistake again.”

  I slump into a seat, defeated. Not that I thought any of them had it. It’s one thing for them to take it after I threw it away, thinking they’d teach me a lesson. That was a dick move, sure, but it’s another thing for them to break into my room when I’m not there and steal from me. They may be assholes, but I don’t think they’re thieves. That takes a level of sneakiness that I don’t see them sinking to.

  “Is there any other way?” I ask. “Ryker said I could learn to, I don’t know, harvest it from the world around me, or spend it somehow.”

  Darius clears his throat and starts straightening his desk. “Yes, well,” he says, clearing his throat again. “Like anyone else’s, your magic needs time to replenish when you use it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  He loosens his tie and leans back, tenting his hands in front of his chest. “Remember when your magic was unleashed?”

  “Vividly.”

  “And how… Intense it was. For you and those around you, who were within the radius of its reach. And then afterwards, you were able to function for quite a while without being… Overwhelmed by it again.”

  “True,” I say. “I didn’t try to hump anyone for at least a month.”

  Darius chuckles. “By the time it had recharged within you, you could transfer it to your vessel for safekeeping. That’s how it works for all students. The Unleashing can be chaotic and a bit dangerous, but that burst of magic ensures it won’t build back up until they have learned to control its flow a little better. And every time you use magic, like any other energy, it takes time to recharge. You couldn’t run a marathon every day. You need time to recover. So, if you want to lessen the magic that is building within you, you’ll need to expend some of it.”

  “My wand skills are a bit lacking, but I can light a candle with it,” I say.

  Darius loosens his tie a bit further and clears his throat. “I think you know that’s not how your type of energy is spent.”

  My face warms as his gaze stays fixed on me. Yep, I know how to use sexual energy. I know because every time I’ve gotten worked up, it’s fucked with everyone around me, just like at the Unleashing. When I use it, I might be able to release some of it, but then everyone around me is
affected.

  “That doesn’t seem fair,” I say. “I can’t just, like, magically seduce someone. Because that’s what it would be like. Getting them all intoxicated by my magical energy and taking advantage of them? Yeah, not really on board with that.”

  Professor Darius shifts around and leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk. “That’s possible, I suppose,” he says. “Or you could choose someone with whom you share a mutual attraction when you’re not bewitching them with your magic.”

  Our eyes lock, and I’m sure he’s talking about himself. About us.

  This time, it’s my turn to gulp. “What if…” I begin, my voice barely above a whisper. “What if you could teach me how to release it safely?”

  “Jade…” A hundred emotions seem to be flickering in his eyes. Among them is a strong current of desire. He wants me. I can see it clear as day, clear as I want him.

  “I like you,” I blurt out. “A lot. I want this. And I think you want it, too.”

  “You’re a student,” he murmurs, his gaze smoldering with restrained longing. But he doesn’t deny it.

  “And you’re a good teacher,” I say, my courage bolstered. “And I’ve never… I mean, I could use some teaching.”

  “You’re eighteen.”

  “And you can’t be much over thirty,” I say. “Old enough to know what you’re doing, but not too old for me. I don’t care about age.”

  We stare at each other as we speak, not breaking eye contact.

  “I could lose my job.”

  “I don’t want that,” I concede, slumping back in my chair. “I didn’t realize.”

  “I’m flattered, Jade. I won’t deny the temptation is there.”

  “How do I know if the attraction is because of magic or not?” I ask, segueing to a safer topic.

  “You know because you’re still interested even when you aren’t using your magic,” Darius says. “You’re an attractive woman, Jade. I’m sure you have no trouble attracting men without using your magic.”

  “So being around my magic, it’s like a contact high,” I say. “It comes out whenever I work with it intentionally or when I get… Excited.”

  “It seems so,” Darius says, color rising to this throat. “When you’re sexually stimulated, such as the incident at the club.”

  Great. Every time I orgasm, I’m going to make dudes go insane.

  “And if I’m using magic every day in your class, you get a dose of it each time? And so does Ryker, when I work with Cleo.”

  “Yes,” he says. “As does everyone in class. There seems to be an unusual amount of students coupling up this year.”

  He’s smiling, but I can’t help but blush. I mean, I’m making everyone in my classes horny. At least they’re not all lusting after me, but still. It’s a little weird.

  “So, what you’re telling me is to find a boyfriend?”

  He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Or your sword.”

  Huh. That’s the first time someone has called Cleo a sword instead of a spork. Maybe it’s time I start seeing her differently, too. I already know she means more to me than I ever knew, that I miss her terribly. But needing her and respecting her are two separate things, and it might be time to start treating her with a little more appreciation. I vow to do that the moment I get her back. If only I knew where she was and how to get her back.

  In the meantime, apparently I need to get laid.

  Chapter 18

  “Don’t look now,” Asher says the next day at dinner as we slide into our seats.

  “At what?” I twist around in my seat, and my heart stops.

  “You looked,” Asher says with a sigh.

  Unlike lunch times, dinner is a come-and-go as you want affair. And right now, here comes a couple I never wanted to see. Blonde Bella hangs on Rocco’s massive, muscular arm, smiling up at him like he’s a rock star. But that’s not what makes me sick. What makes me sick is that Rocco is smiling back at her.

  And not in that indulgent, “let this skank finish making her case so I can escape” way that Thorn does.

  “I’m sure it’s just a fling,” Asher says. “She never keeps her men for long. Trust me on that. There’s been a lot of them. They always see through her hotness to the ugly person she is within.”

  “She doesn’t like Rocco,” I say. “She’s using him.”

  Asher takes a drink of water. “Sorry, Jade.”

  I turn to my most reserved guard, who sits at the next table. “Come sit with us,” I say, patting the table beside me.

  “This should be interesting,” Asher says, glancing from Thorn to Bella, who is always watching him.

  Thorn looks up from his food, a startled look on his face. “Now?”

  “I won’t bite,” I say. “You spend half your day trailing around after me. Don’t you think it would be less boring if you talked to me?”

  He pauses for a second, a calculating look on his face.

  I sigh. “I want to ask you about Rocco, okay? I’m not going to put my magic juju on you.”

  Bella belts out a laugh that’s so high-pitched that even from across the room, I can tell it’s false. I glance up to find her staring at us even as she clings to Rocco at their table. She’s halfway in his lap while he scarfs down his salad.

  Seemingly oblivious to her jealousy, Thorn scoots back his chair and moves his plate and cup over to our table with no comment and no visible reaction to my words. Okay, then. He’s a tough nut to crack, but that doesn’t mean I can’t ask him what I want to know.

  Before I can ask, he speaks. “I’m sorry about what happened at that party.”

  “What? The kick-off party?” I ask, surprised since that was ages ago. We’ve barely said two words to each other since, but still. It’s all but forgotten to me.

  “Yes,” he says, frowning down at his salad.

  “You’re sorry about… Dancing with me?” I ask, trying not to let that hurt.

  “I should have been watching out for you,” he says. “It’s my job.”

  “Not that night,” I remind him. “I wasn’t even supposed to be there. You were out at a party, having fun. You were off duty. Rocco was the one on guard duty.”

  “You could have been hurt.” Thorn forks through his salad with a fierce frown.

  I start to answer, but Asher elbows me and nods toward the table across the room where Bella is straddling Rocco’s lap.

  Jealousy rears its ugly head inside me, but so does confusion and hurt. It’s been two days since I’ve seen Rocco. He hasn’t been on guard duty. The last time I saw him, we were sharing a moment more intimate than I’ve ever shared with anyone. And then he bolted so fast he didn’t even get his book or his clothes, and now he’s rubbing my enemy in my face.

  I turn back to Thorn. “I’m the one who asked you to dance,” I remind him. “So if that’s what you’re being weird about, you can stop now.”

  He nods and takes a bite of salad, still not looking at me. I realize then that the reason he doesn’t talk to me isn’t because he doesn’t like me. And he’s not a snob. If he were, he’d probably like Bella. No, he doesn’t like me because I make him uncomfortable. Maybe even scare him. My magic does, anyway. It’s one thing he can’t control, no matter how powerful he is.

  “I’m sorry I let my magic get away from me that night,” I say, reaching for his hand before thinking better of it and drawing back. “And I’m really sorry that I dragged you back to my dad’s and got you hurt that night.”

  He shrugs. “I’m fine.”

  “I shouldn’t have gone at all,” I say. “It was stupid. It probably put more attention on Dad, and that’s the last thing I wanted. I just wanted to see him.”

  “I get it,” he says. “He’s your dad.”

  Asher kicks me under the table, and I turn to him. While Thorn’s head is lowered over his food, Asher gives a quick nod in his direction and puts two fingers to his temple like a gun. “His dad,” he mouths.

  Fuck. Som
ething inside me twists painfully. So that’s why he took me. That’s why he was concerned about me when we first got here, and I was freaking out about my dad.

  “Well, I’m sorry I dragged you into it,” I say. “And thank you for taking me.”

  This time, I don’t pull back. I lay my hand on top of Thorn’s. He stares at it for a second, and my heart skips as I wait for him to pull away. After a moment, he turns his hand, lacing his fingers through mine, and squeezes. My heart thuds in my chest. How can I have this connection with him, but also feel like my insides are spaghetti being twisted around a fork when I look over and see Rocco’s hands spread over Bella’s ass as she kneels over his lap?

  “You were going to say something about that dumbass?” Thorn asks, his gaze following mine.

  “You know she’s using him to get to you,” I say.

  Thorn almost chokes, then covers his mouth with a fist and changes it to a cough. “What?”

  “Dude, Bella has been in love with you for like a decade,” Asher says, rolling his eyes.

  “And she thinks I’m going to like her if she fucks my friend?”

  “She’s trying to make you jealous,” I say.

  “That only works if the person likes you,” he says, eyeing me.

  “But she’s using him,” I say. “Surely he knows that.”

  “Like I said,” Thorn murmurs, pulling his hand from mine. “Making someone jealous only works if they like you.”

  “What does that mean?” I ask. “You think Rocco is with Bella now to make me jealous?”

  Thorn shrugs. “If not, he looks pretty happy to be used.”

  It’s true. Now they’re making out. It’s all I can do not to throw something and tell them to get a room. Of course Bella’s rubbing it in my face, but does Rocco have to? This isn’t to make me jealous. This is beyond that. This is meant to hurt me.

  And it works. It fucking hurts. But what did I expect when I invited him in? Did I honestly think he cared about me? He’s always been an asshole. Why stop at teasing? Why not make me think he liked me, only to dump me for my enemy? Why not get me to trust him with my body the way I’ve never trusted anyone, only to completely stop speaking to me? It’s the oldest story in the book.