I frowned. Would that loophole work for us? If I were Maverick’s soul-bonded mate, surely the school would allow us to stay together with him in his teaching role, right?
I was so lost in thought that I didn’t hear the commotion behind me. Glynda uttered a deafening scream and shot to her feet, knocking the table over in her panic. When I looked up, a huge dog-like creature bounded across the room, growling and snarling and heading right for me.
19
Zane
Most students in this shithole of a school gave me a wide berth unless they wanted me at their party, which was fine with me. Parties gave me a chance to top up my magic while collecting useful blackmail material.
Nobody knew, for example, that the rampantly homophobic mage son of a council member loved a dirty blow job from a wolf shifter when he got drunk. I had several interesting video clips of him getting his pathetic little dick sucked. And also returning the favor.
Wolf shifters weren’t fussy about who they got it on with, but this mage’s father would roast his ass if he found out his son liked shifter dick.
Favors were my preferred currency. I blackmailed assholes and they did me favors.
The mage in question blanched when he saw me wander into the dining hall. I rarely visited the place, but something, or rather someone, had drawn me in. Because I wasn’t in a blackmailing mood, I ignored him.
The place heaved with magicals of every type, but it took me no time at all to spot my witch. She’d chosen a table by the windows and was busy staring at a sheet of paper, oblivious to the surrounding commotion. The witch she’d sat next to in class earlier was busy swiping away on her phone.
Hearing the little witch’s story about the hellhound had taken me by surprise. Hellhounds were demonic trackers. They came to our realm for a reason; usually to hunt down someone who’d reneged on a demon deal.
Killing a hellhound took skill. A regular blade wouldn’t work on a hellhound’s notoriously tough hide, which meant the witch’s guardian must have used an angel blade. The fact he had one of them raised a whole new set of questions.
Was he a mage or something more?
I’d paid a visit to my friend Montgomery’s office earlier today. The old bastard had more wards on his office than the fucking Mage Council leader, but because I had incriminating information on his personal assistant, the prick let me in for five minutes while Montgomery was in a meeting.
The headmaster had a file on the witch, but it contained nothing but a printout of her magical test score. No high school records, no family contact information, no references from her previous school. Frankly, it was odd.
My record could have filled en entire filing cabinet, so why was there so little information on this witch?
I needed to know.
Not because I thought she was dangerous, but because something about her drew me in. And if my suspicions were right about who she was to me, I wanted to knoweverythingabout her. Without all the facts, it would be impossible to keep her safe.
A wolf shifter barged past me as I stood watching the witch. The lust emanating from him made a nice snack, but I didn’t appreciate his attitude, so I sent a shot of fear his way and smirked when he shrieked loudly while pissing his pants.
“Ugh, gross!” A plump witch with ginger hair screwed her face up in disgust while the wolf crawled toward the door, mortified and confused. It served the stupid fuck right.
I moved to the back of the room and kicked a goblin out of my preferred seat. He grabbed his plate of ribs and ran. This left my field of vision clear. Only then did I see I wasn’t the only one paying the witch close attention.
Vane sat a few tables away, his back to me, obsessively staring at her while pretending to look at his phone. What was that all about? The mage normally sat with his little band of sycophants. Mostly silly females desperate to suck his cock.
Alaric Vane was one of the few magicals who matched me in terms of power. Not that we were friends. More like frenemies. I stayed out of his way, and he stayed out of mine.
The little raven-haired witch was not his usual type at all. It made no sense. My gaze slid back to the witch and her friend. She looked down at a sheet of paper, her brow furrowed in concentration. I noted she didn’t appear to have a phone, which was odd.
Every magical in this place spent way too much time scrolling Magigram and WitchTok. Last time I checked, I had 1.6 million followers on Magigram, which amused the shit out of me considering I’d never posted a damn thing on there.
The idiots in this school needed to get a fucking life.
Vane stabbed at his phone a few times, smirked at the witch, and then shot off. I frowned. The fucker was shit-stirring. I’d put moneyon it. Sure enough, loud yells and shrieks heralded something unpleasant.
The entrance door swung open, and a huge dog creature stormed in, half of its body alight with magical flames.
20
Raven
