We stayed up later than we should, fueled by a mixture of adrenaline and determination, trying to hatch a plan.
It was only around 1 AM that we remembered we hadn’t even showered yet, a minor detail in our quest for answers.
The plan itself was simple: find out as much as we could about Headmaster Cree and his connection to my mother from other students, and most importantly, from his pack mates.
Echo, Ryan, Dennis, and Etenia all came from his pack, and there must have been other sophomores or even seniors who belonged to his pack too.
The only problem I faced was actually getting to the point of having a genuine conversation with one of them, especially Echo’s group, who seemed to orbit him like satellites.
We were currently sitting in our first actual class of the day: spells and potions.
The professor wasn’t here yet, so the students were talking and laughing, their voices a cheerful murmur that barely registered with me.
I was just lost in thought, consumed by the lingering questions of the previous day.
Farrah and Lyric sat to my right, animatedly sharing ideas on how the class would play out, their excitement a stark contrast to my internal turmoil.
I was distracted, caught up in my own thoughts, so deeply engrossed that I didn’t notice when someone slid into the empty seat beside me.
“Hey.” I turned to my left, startled, and Asher was sitting there with a huge, infuriating grin on his face, as if he hadn’t spent the better part of yesterday actively avoiding me.
Did he think I’d forgotten about our last intense encounter?
He was dressed in a simple charcoal grey v-neck long sleeve and black jeans, a deceptively casual look.
His dark hair gave the impression it was uncombed, artfully tousled, but you just knew he spent an agonizingly long time on it, meticulously crafting that ‘just rolled out of bed’ appearance.
Even though I should have been a little angry, a frustrating flutter started in my chest, and my heart skipped a beat when my eyes roved over his face, lingering a fraction longer than I needed to on his full, inviting lips.
“Hey,” I replied coolly, injecting as much indifference into my voice as I could muster.
Even if he made me feel all fluttery inside, he didn’t need to know that, didn’t need to see the effect he had on me.
“Finally stopped avoiding me?” I asked, my eyes never leaving his, a challenge in my gaze.
“Who says I was?
Maybe I’ve just been busy,” he refuted smoothly, a slight tilt to his head, his grin widening just enough to show the tip of a fang.
“Right, and I’m a hot blonde,” I retorted, letting the sarcasm drip so he knew I was fully aware he was lying, his flimsy excuse transparent.
“You may not be blonde, but you’re definitely hot,” he replied, his gaze warm and direct, setting my face aflame.
A deep blush crept up my neck, betraying my cool facade.
I had no comeback for that one, honestly.
Just when I thought I’d finally composed myself enough to formulate a witty retort, the professor walked in, her presence commanding immediate silence.
“Okay, okay, everyone, settle down.” It took everyone a minute to give her their full attention, the excited chatter slowly dying down.
The person who stood at the head of the class was one of the professors present at yesterday’s testing, a kind-faced woman with a gentle demeanor.
She was no taller than 5’2″ and a little plump, her figure soft and welcoming.
Her hair was styled in a short bob, graying charmingly at the roots and black on the ends.
Her cheeks were pink and rosy, giving her a perpetually youthful appearance, and the gentle smile that was spread from her lips was mirrored in her gentle blue eyes, which twinkled with warmth.
“Good morning, everyone!
I hope you’re all as excited as I am,” she chirped, her voice light and cheerful.
Forrester.
I was very impressed with you all yesterday, and I look forward to imparting wisdom on you in this upcoming year.
This is spells and potions, and this is also where you learn incantations, conjuring, and herbalism amongst other things.
It is the class that holds most of what you need to know about magic and magical lore, so you need to take this particular class seriously.
Now, we’ll start with the basic types of herbs, and then we’ll go from there.” She giggled giddily, a surprising sound, and clapped her hands together before going around behind her desk, retrieving some materials.
For the next ninety minutes, we learned about some of the various types of herbs and their potential uses, a fascinating dive into the natural world’s magic.
From the common sage and lavender, known for their calming properties, to the more rare valerian, willow, and woodruff, each with their own unique energies.
She even briefly touched on the deadly belladonna and vervain, emphasizing their potent and dangerous uses.
For me personally, the class was just amazing.
My mom was a master in herbalism, a true green witch, but she never actually got to teach me a whole lot on the subject, so this felt like connecting to a part of her I barely knew.
The entire class, though, I had to constantly block out Asher, as he kept trying to get my attention with irritating persistence.
If he wasn’t poking me with the eraser end of his pencil, he was leaning over and whispering my name in my ear, his breath warm on my skin.
Once, Mrs.
Forrester even caught him as he leaned over, his head almost touching mine, but just as I did an internal fist bump, savoring his impending scolding, he gave her the flimsy excuse of not seeing clearly from the board and trying to get notes from me.
All he had to do was flash his pearly whites, the glint of his fangs sending a curious wave of pleasure through my body, and she just turned back around and continued her lecture, completely disarmed by his charm.
Farrah, Lyric, and I were walking to our next class, navigating the crowded hallway, when I felt someone tug on my hand and pull me back.
Spinning around to face whoever it was, a scowl already forming on my face, I saw none other than my morning pest problem, Asher, his grin unwavering.
“What the hell are you doing?” I sneered, my voice sharper than I intended.
“I wanna walk with you to class,” he said casually, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and then he draped his hand around my shoulder, his touch lingering.
Farrah chose that exact moment to turn around, probably looking for me, and her eyes went wide, her mouth forming a perfect O of surprise, witnessing the blatant familiarity.
I ducked out from under his arm with an indignant huff and said, “That’s not how you ask someone to walk to class with you, Asher, and I’m fine walking there with my friends.” My voice was firm, a clear boundary.
We stood there, in the middle of the bustling hallway, me glaring at him, my arms crossed, and him looking at me in genuine confusion, as if my reaction was completely baffling.
He grabbed hold of my hand once more, his fingers wrapping around mine, and pulled me off to the side, out of earshot of the curious students passing by.
“Okay, what is your problem?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost genuinely perplexed.
I was surprised that one person could be this dense, this oblivious to his own behavior.
“Are you serious right now?” I shot back, yanking my hand free, a spark of indignation igniting within me.
“You’re the one who was avoiding me all day yesterday, and you know what?
Until you’re ready to tell me how it was that you helped me the other day, how you stopped my panic attack with just a look, which I know is the reason why you were avoiding me, stay the hell away from me.”
I yanked my hand from his, the contact sending a fleeting jolt through me, and turned on my heels, storming off in the direction I had last seen my friends.
I didn’t miss the way my hand tingled where his skin had touched mine, a phantom warmth that persisted, but I ignored it.
For the most part.
The room was somewhat of a miniature gymnasium, with large mats spread out on the floor and nothing else, giving it the appearance of a training dojo.
I saw a tall, slender man with pale skin and a pointy, straight nose standing at the head of the class, his posture rigid, and I assumed that was the professor.
I quickly located the girls, who were already settling onto one of the mats, and maneuvered my way through the students, my eyes still burning with annoyance.
Farrah eyed me, her expression a silent question, as if to ask what Asher and I were talking about, but I gave a quick shake of my head, letting her know we’d talk later.
I noticed when Asher walked through the door with Drew and quickly looked away before he could see me looking, my face still hot from our exchange.
I turned back to the door, intending to scan the room for an empty spot, and immediately regretted it when I saw none other than Echo standing there with Ryan.
I hadn’t seen him at all in Spells and Potions, so seeing him now, unexpectedly, caused my breath to catch, a sudden tremor in my chest.
Somehow, it was like he could always sense when I was watching, because at that very moment, he looked my way, his gaze direct and knowing.
He raised his hand and waved, a small, intimate gesture that made my heart flutter.
This caused Ryan to check and see who he was waving to, his eyes following Echo’s line of sight.
When he saw it was me, he did the same, only in a more animated way, his whole arm waving enthusiastically.
The smile on my lips broadened, a genuine, unforced grin, and I waved back just as animatedly, forgetting my earlier resolve to avoid him.
Ryan, with a playful tug, grabbed onto the sleeve of Echo’s shirt and dragged him in our direction, towards our little group.
“Hey, ladies,” Ryan greeted, his booming voice causing all chatter beside me to cease abruptly.
Echo, his eyes still fixed on me, threw a distracted hello their way, his attention clearly elsewhere.
Farrah said a friendly hello, her usual composure returning, but Lyric seemed frozen, unable to speak, her eyes wide as she stared at the approaching werewolf.
Farrah nudged her discreetly, and she sputtered out a small, almost inaudible “hi,” very much unlike her.
She was usually talk, talk, talk, just like Farrah, which was why they got along so well.
Ryan opened his mouth to say something, but the professor started talking first, his voice cutting through the remaining whispers.
“I’m Mr.
Fields, and I’ll be your teacher for manipulation,” he announced, his tone crisp and authoritative.
Everyone grew quiet, settling down for class, and Echo moved to my side, slipping into the empty spot, while Ryan moved to the other side next to Lyric.
I felt Echo’s hand brush against my own as he settled, and my heart picked up pace instantly, a rapid, insistent beat against my ribs.
I kept looking forward, not taking my eyes off Mr.
Fields, but I was acutely aware of the warm flesh next to mine, the subtle pressure.
I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but I was almost sure his pinky finger was grazing mine, a delicate, teasing touch.
It was very clear that it was, and that he was doing it on purpose, when I felt his finger curl around mine briefly before letting go, a swift, deliberate connection.
My eyes went wide with shock, a sharp intake of breath, and darted around the room to see if anyone had noticed.
I wasn’t that lucky, though, because when my eyes landed on Asher, he wasn’t looking at me, but rather glaring down intently at the exact point where Echo’s and my hand had met, his jaw clenched, a storm brewing in his dark eyes.