by Sadie Moss
The guys have noticed my frustration. Well, Cam and Asher have. If Dmitri’s noticed—and he probably has, he’s observant as hell—he isn’t saying anything about it. Maybe he’s worried it’d ruin his school-wide reputation as an unfeeling bastard or something.
Or maybe it’s just because he doesn’t like to talk about his problems, so he’s not going to push me to talk about mine.
Asher patiently helps me with my homework, even though I know he probably doesn’t really have the time for it. Cam takes me out on runs in the morning so I can get some energy and frustration out. And it helps, it really does. So does sneaking off to see Roman when I can. Ah, the power of orgasms.
But none of it can really take away from the fact that I’m behind my fellow students in practical magic use.
And that’s just not going to cut it.
I’m in a hell of a bad mood as I get dressed after Combat class, my mind still wrestling with my latest failure. The second- and third-years got to spar all class while the first-years did more combat-focused magical drills. And once again, it didn’t go well for me.
It sucks because last semester this was one of my favorite classes, and now I’m starting to dread it. But that’s because fall semester was mostly non-magical sparring, which I literally kicked ass at. I used to wonder why we have a Combat class at all—it made me feel a little like we’re being trained as soldiers or something—but after Raul’s attack on the school, I understand better why the professors might want us to know how to fight and defend ourselves.
The world of magic has always held danger.
I sit down on the bench in front of the lockers to put my shoes back on. I’m due to have lunch with the guys next, and I’m trying to breathe slow and deep so they won’t see my bad mood. It’s not their fault that I’m a fuck-up; I don’t want them to have to deal with it.
“Well, well, well, where are you off to in a hurry?”
I glance up to see Alyssa smiling down at me like the cat that just ate the canary. “Lunch.”
“Mmm. With Asher, Cam, and Dmitri, right?”
“How is that any business of yours?” I ask, grabbing my backpack and slinging it onto my shoulder. I’m not going to sit around and be interrogated or insulted.
I walk over to the door and push it open to step out into the hallway, but the girls follow me. Kendal’s hovering in the back like she thinks I might bite or something while Megan and Cristina are tittering like sparrows, leaning into each other, their heads almost touching.
Alyssa’s right on my heels. “Don’t think that we don’t know what you’re doing.”
I ignore her.
“Stringing them along like that? Talk about a bitch move. They deserve better.”
Okay, that gets my blood up. I stop and turn around. “What are you talking about?”
Alyssa puts her hands on her hips. She’s a pretty girl, honestly. Great curves, heart-shaped face, bright eyes. But there’s something nasty and petty in her expression that just ruins it all. You look at her once and think, oh, she’s pretty. You look at her twice and all you can think is, ouch.
“I’m talking about how you’re stringing them along,” she spits out. “Snaring just one of those poor men for yourself? Bad enough. But you’ve got to have all three of them wrapped around your little finger—are you that slutty, or are you that worried about getting a husband?”
“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” I demand. “I’m not looking for a husband, genius, I’m not even twenty-five.”
Megan scoffs, stepping up beside Alyssa. “Don’t play dumb. That’s why you’re here.” She makes a gesture that seems to encompass the whole school. “That’s why most of us are here.”
I openly stare at the four of them. “Okay, I am really fucking confused here.”
“It’s because we’re Unpredictables,” Kendal blurts out.
The other three slowly turn their heads and stare at her, their disappointment practically a flashing neon sign over their heads, but Kendal plows on. “Our—our families don’t usually like that we’re, you know, uh, like this.”
“Just say we’re freaks, Kendal. God,” Cristina mutters with a roll of her eyes.
Kendal’s face goes bright pink. “Right. Well, most of our families are well known in the magical world. So it’s important we keep up our status and, well, if you’re Unpredictable, you don’t get a lot of job options, so…”
“So you find a guy from a powerful, rich family and marry him, and you get to keep your status,” Alyssa finishes. “It’s called survival, sweetie, and if you’re really serious about not knowing what you’re doing with those men? Do us all a favor and back the fuck off from them. Some of us actually need to get hitched.”
“I’m not stopping you,” I shoot back. “You want to talk to them, go right ahead! Good luck with Dmitri, though, he’s a real pain in the ass. I’m sure he’ll know just how to sweep you off your feet, seeing as I’m pretty sure if he even looked at a romance novel, he’d spontaneously combust. But Cam’s friends with practically every person here, and Asher’s a sweetheart who tries to find a redeeming quality in everyone—so knock yourself the fuck out.”
“We would,” Alyssa sneers, taking a step toward me, getting up in my face, “if your skank ass wasn’t in the way! Leading them on and making them wait to see which one you’ll choose—”
Okay, that’s it.
I drop my backpack, my voice pitching into a low growl. “I’m warning you, slut shaming is so very last decade.”
“What are you gonna do about it?” Alyssa taunts.
I can’t help but smirk as my hands curl into fists. “You ever been in a bar fight, sweetheart?”
“Elle! There you are!”
I turn just in time for two strong hands to lightly grab my shoulders and… a pair of lips to land on mine.
Asher.
I know it, because I’ve made out with Cam and done a hell of a lot more with Roman, and neither of them kisses like this. Soft and sweet, lips lingering as he pulls away. I expect that to be the end of it, but Asher moves in again, kissing me a little harder, like he’s got to make absolutely certain everyone understands what’s going on here. My hands come up to rest on his chest, and before I can stop myself, I open my mouth, letting my tongue swipe tentatively against his.
That’s all he was waiting for, and in a heartbeat, he’s tilting his head and deepening the kiss. Our mouths move in sync—slowly, but with a smoldering kind of passion that makes me hot and achy all over.
When Asher pulls away, I’m panting, heat sliding down my spine, pooling between my legs. I can so easily see him taking me apart ever so slowly, spending hours and hours until I’m a puddle, until I can’t even beg I’m so gone on pleasure.
I blink myself out of my daze, and I have to clench my jaw so I don’t gape at him.
He gives me one of his small, crooked smiles. “We were wondering why you were late to lunch.” Then his arm slides around my waist and he looks over at Alyssa. “Sorry, did I interrupt something?”
The Queen Bitch has two spots of bright pink high up on her cheeks, and her eyes are blazing. I have to hold in my laughter—she honestly looks a little ridiculous. “Asher. Um… I’m surprised to see you without Cam or Dmitri—”
“Yeah, they’re holding down the fort.” Asher’s tone manages to be both polite and dismissive, and I’m kind of in awe. He looks at me, his deep green eyes warm and soft. “Shall we?”
He leads me away, even taking my backpack for me, and it’s not until we get around the corner that I let myself burst into laughter.
“Oh my God.” I grin at him. “That was amazing. Did you see their faces?”
“That’s why I did it,” Asher replies quietly. “They’ve got no right to treat you like that.”
“Is it…” I swallow, my stomach twisting and churning like a damn washing machine. “Is it true, what they said? Girls here are just focused on getting married? That’s why they come to
the academy?”
“Not… exactly.” Asher sighs. “We can talk about it after lunch—”
“I don’t want to go to lunch,” I blurt out, only realizing it’s true once I say it. I don’t. I can’t be around Cam and Dmitri and pretend everything’s fine, but I don’t want to tell them what happened either. That run-in with Alyssa put me more off balance than I want to admit.
Asher digs into his backpack and pulls out a wrapped sandwich, handing it to me. “Here. I snagged this before I came looking for you. You need to eat.”
“Thanks.” I’m surprised he’s not insisting we go to the dining hall, but then, Asher’s a lot more patient with me than I deserve.
Instead he leads me out to the quad, and we find a bench to sit on near a big tree. It’s freezing, but I don’t mind—because of the cold, nobody else is out here.
“Those girls all come from powerful families,” Asher notes. “So do I. So does Dmitri. It’s… we’re not royalty or anything, but even though we’re in the twenty-first century, we’re still expected to kind of… make a good match of it. Magical families can be powerful, and you don’t want to piss off the wrong person.”
I bite into the sandwich he brought me, listening intently as I chew.
“Not a lot of families are supportive of our magic. My family was really happy that I’m Unpredictable, but they’re in the minority. I’ve got a lot of siblings, so it doesn’t matter to them if I’m a little… you know.” He shrugs, brushing is dark brown hair out of his face. “And mind reading is helpful—or it will be, once I master it. But not all families see it that way. You’re a liability to them because you’re dangerous, supposedly. And if you can’t use magic to advance your family, then marriage to someone with power and money is the next best option. Because magic can be unpredictable, no pun intended, but power and wealth stay the same no matter what.”
“That…” I shake my head. “Shit, that sounds awful. They’re not pawns, they’re people. And now…” I look at him. “Are you having to deal with women coming up to you and just throwing themselves at you?”
“Oh, no, I have to deal with men doing it too,” Ash replies. He gives me a small smile that he probably intends to be reassuring. “I’m okay, don’t worry about it. And like I said, I’m a lucky one. My parents just want me to be happy. None of this pressuring me to marry or anything. I honestly feel bad for those girls.”
“Didn’t stop you from kissing me.”
“Well, I had to make a point, didn’t I?” He bumps my shoulder gently, his eyes warming. “I’m choosing you, not them, not anyone else.”
I snort. “God only knows why you’d do that.”
My dad is powerful, or something. That’s what Mom told me anyway. She didn’t talk about him a lot. He left when I was ten, and I’ve made it a specific point not to look him up. I think, technically, I could be the same rank as Alyssa and those other girls because of him. But I don’t give a shit about that, and I don’t think it would be fair of me to use it as leverage to get anyone to respect me. After all, Dad ran out on us. Doesn’t exactly speak volumes about his love for me or Mads—and call it stupid pride, but I’m not going to start name dropping my asshole father just to win a battle of social ranking with some shallow, desperate girls.
“Because you don’t care about any of it. I like that.” Asher’s voice is soft, and he squeezes my knee.
“I might have, if I’d grown up in it,” I admit. “Mom did magic, so we knew about its existence, obviously. But we were pretty isolated from that whole world. I don’t know much about… well, anything. I feel like a complete outsider. If I was raised by my dad, maybe I would care about all this, just like Alyssa.”
“But that’s a what-might-have-been, and if you think too much about those you’ll go crazy,” he replies with a gentle laugh. “You’re you, and I like who you are. You don’t care what people think about you. You don’t let it change who you are.”
“But… what if I do care?” I ask softly.
“What do you mean?”
I shrug, finishing up my sandwich. Asher’s sweet and lets me, waiting, not pushing or changing the subject. I look down at my hands, rubbing them together to warm them up. “I don’t know how much you heard…”
“Enough.”
I nod, still focused on my hands in my lap. “I know it’s not true, but it’s hard not to… to hear them when they call me names like…”
My voice trails off, and I wrinkle my nose as my eyes sting. Goddamn it. For all my brave talk to Alyssa’s face, I can’t help but feel hurt by her words.
Slut.
Leading them on.
Is that what I am? Is that what I’m doing?
Especially the “leading them on” part. Roman’s made it clear he wants something more with me and is okay with sharing, which is a whole mindfuck I’ve been avoiding thinking about, but I’ve been clear with him from the start I can’t promise more than sex. Cam and I have made out, and he flirts with me like we’re already dating, but we haven’t really talked about it in an official way. Asher and I have kissed twice now, and we’re sitting here so close together, and he’s said that he wants to be with me…
“If I’m leading you on,” I whisper, “or being unfair to any of you…”
“Hey, no. No way.” Asher takes my hand, squeezing gently. “If you were, I’d say something. There’s a difference between leading someone on and trying to figure out what you want.”
“You seem so sure.” I glance up into his deep green eyes. “You seem to know… so much. And then here I am just bumbling around in the dark about literally everything.”
“I wouldn’t say I know a lot,” he replies with an easy smile. “And I’ve had to be sure of who I am, even if others don’t always like it. I’m the youngest of thirteen, so it sort of comes with the territory.”
I gape at him. “You’re what?” I knew he had a big family, but not that big.
Asher laughs. “Your face is amazing. Yeah, there’s some old spell that affected the Prince family ages ago—we always have a ton of sons. I guess it was supposed to be a blessing of some kind? Back in medieval times when kids died a lot and sons were oh-so-important and all that.”
“Holy shit.”
“Yeah, I know. So. Twelve older brothers. My mom jokingly called me Hans after we saw Frozen.”
“You’re not secretly planning on stealing a throne, are you?”
“Nah, way too much trouble.” He smiles. “But, honestly, growing up with that many people in the house—I had to learn that I wasn’t always going to get all the attention. That I might fade into the background sometimes. And that that’s okay, if I’m confident in who I am. My time will come; everyone gets their turn. So that’s why I’m… the way I am. It wasn’t always easy, but I’ve made it work, and I think I make myself useful and appreciated.”
“You do,” I promise him. “You really, really do. For what it’s worth, I like who you became.” I nudge him with my elbow. “At least, until I meet one of your brothers and leave you for him.”
Ash chuckles at that. “Guess I’ll have to make sure you like me best, then.”
“I already do.” Then I give a bitter laugh. “Fuck. I’m the oldest of two and I don’t know who I am at all. You’d think we’d be the opposite.”
“Well… you said your mom is dead? If it’s okay to bring it up.”
“Yeah. She died four years ago. I had to take care of Maddy after she passed.”
“Do you think maybe you were so busy being strong and taking care of your sister that you never stopped to really just think about who you were, outside of being her caretaker?”
I stare at him. “That’s… huh. That’s pretty profound, actually.”
He shrugs. “I have my moments.”
“You have a lot of moments,” I reply. And I mean it. Asher is one of the kindest, smartest people I know.
A beautiful grin lights his face. “You have a lot of moments too, Elle. You’re amazi
ng. I don’t want you to doubt that. Even if you’re still figuring yourself out.”
I know I shouldn’t do this. I don’t want to end up guilty of what Alyssa said. I don’t want to lead anyone on, and I don’t want to make this all more confusing and complicated than it already is.
But Asher’s being so damn sweet and looking at me like I’m something special, something worthwhile, and I haven’t had that for such a long time. Hardly anyone has looked at me like that since Mom died—well, except Mads, but she doesn’t count because she’s my sister. But these men do, for some insane reason.
Being around Asher makes me want better things for myself than I ever really had the guts to hope for before. He makes me want to be a better person—the kind who’s worthy of a guy like him.
He makes my heart crack open and expand, and even though it scares the hell out of me, I like it too.
And so I lean in and kiss him.
I just mean for it to be short and sweet, a little thank you. But just like our kiss in front of the girls, it shifts. Deepens. Asher presses in, his tongue sweeps across the seam of my lips, and I part them, and oh… yes, yes.
Kissing Asher is like being pulled underneath the ocean’s surface, with its hidden depths and power, steady and sure, but I’m not at all scared of drowning.
In fact, I kind of want to drown.
His arm comes around my waist and he pulls me toward him until I’m straddling his lap. Find a guy who will kiss you after you just ate a BLT, I say. Asher doesn’t seem put off in the slightest, his tongue tangled with mine, working me slowly but steadily until I’m a puddle, melting in his arms. I feel shivery and hot all over, my hips starting to roll of their own accord, and I want to guide his hands up underneath my clothes and into my pants…
The contrast between the cold around us and the heat I feel inside is killing me in the best way. I want to combust. I want to drown. I want Asher to touch me and make me come over and over and over until I can’t stand it.
I pull back, panting, my lungs burning as I suck in gulps of air. Asher kisses slowly, deliberately down my neck, no teeth or hard sucking, just gentle, smooth kisses that leave me shaking.