And she never comes to class the next day either.
When we do spot her rushing off away from her dorm, she barely even says three words to us.
“We’ll talk later.”
Later.
Twenty-Five
Phoenix
The skin on my arm burns where the holy water touched me a week ago. I could hear the hairs sizzling as they’re torn away from my flesh. Nun’s and their fucking holy water. I wish I could hate her for trying to bless me, but I’m used to Saint’s mother’s odd behavior. She somehow became a comforting nuisance in my life.
When I was younger, and I found my way into her Supernatural safehouse, alone and without enough emotion to care, she had walked up to me and asked me my name and situation. I remember telling her my story in a detached voice, not caring if she judged me.
The nun had merely taken my hand in hers and the gesture had been... affectionate... motherly and something I didn’t understand. I’d promptly pulled my hand away with too much aggression.
She’d merely smiled at me and dipped her fingers in holy water to form a cross against my forehead.
It had burned for days.
Old habits die hard, it seems.
The woman still thinks she can save my soul, make me feel. If only she knew that I’m already saved. That Izara Castillo waltzed into our shitty dorm room and has been my salvation.
It’s a little strange that now I wish I could be that for her. I can’t seem to expel the fragile look on her face last weekend, the tortured whispered words.“It was an illusion. It was an illusion.”
She saved me, but she won’t let me save her. She’s avoiding us. I know she needs time, but this isn’t what she needs. Being separated for days on end, how is this good for anyone?
I have half a mind to toss her over my shoulder and slap my hand against her ass until she’s crying and confessing everything that happened to her. We can turn it into a game of sexual depravity. I’ll make her beg, and she’ll tell me everything I need to know.
Unfortunately, life isn’t that simple.
I’ve been seeing less and less of Izara as the days pass. Ever since we went camping, she’s been more distant. The moment I woke up alone I knew something was off.
I know she’s hiding something, and I’d be lying if I didn’t say it pisses me off. It’s like the closer I try to get to her, the closer any of us tries to get, she pulls away. Because she’s afraid of turning illusions into reality?
I wish I could go to hell and rip Osmodeus’s tongue out of his asshole for what he did to her.
But she’s here with us now. She came to our dorm just to trade notes with Malek. It’s a small thing, but she is here.
As soon as she steps close enough, I sidle up behind her, sliding my hands down her sides in a slow, sensual movement that stirs my cock to life. Really, any time I touch her, my cock comes to life. Hell, anytime she breathes I get hard with the urge to slam that mouth straight onto my dick and watch her scrape her teeth and tongue across it.
I’m careful though. I want her here with me. I need her.
All four of us are watching her with hesitant gazes and tense posture.
I bend my head down, the dark strands of her hair tickling my face. With a single breath, they push aside to expose the tantalizing lobe of her ear. My tongue swipes out at it and her whole body trembles, arching closer to me.
“You’re exhausted. Come rest with me, baby,” I whisper, my palms pressing against her hips.
I hear her breath hitch, hear it come out in a rasping pant. She wants me as much as I want her. I can smell the arousal quivering between her legs.
So I don’t understand why she extricates herself from my hold and turns, placing her palms to my chest and gently pushing me away. “Not today.” Though her eyes flash with what can only be desire. “I still have makeup work to do from the first weeks of school I missed.” She takes a single step away from me. “Maybe later though?”
A frown pulls at my features. “Where are you going?”
“To practice with Professor Shade.”
