His thoughts bombard me, and I nearly cry out. My body, prone on an operating table, a scalpel in his hand. The gaping hole in my back where my maginalus used to be, sliced open with surgical precision. The life snuffed from my eyes as, one by one, my body’s systems shut down.
I jerk my head up from the cell diagram I’d been drawing and meet my father’s steady gaze.
Fear rips through me, and I know my mates can feel it down our bonds. They go rigid behind me, clenching their scribes.
My father doesn’t seem fazed in the least.
He can still force his thoughts into my head, still torment me with nothing but images. I’ve trained so hard to read him, but I haven’t trained enough to protect myself from hismalicious thoughts. I need to work harder if I ever plan on defeating him, especially if he can bring me to my knees with only a few thoughts.
I have to be braver. Braver and stronger.
I must topple him. I must save the lives of the omegas in his twisted care at the consortium. I have to stop him before more lives are lost.
I must.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
Catching up in my classes steals a lot of my energy. With coffees before us, Simon and Cassian help me through my Advanced Spellcrafting and Spellcrafting Theory homework.
“So, a transmutation circle,” Cassian explains, pointing to a diagram in my textbook, “relies on rings of magic in each circle. These layers serve as a conduit for your intention. With each layer, you shape the magic you’re trying to produce, allowing for more and more intricate crafting.”
I look at the nine-layered transmutation circle diagram open before me, studying how each layer of the bigger circle builds upon the last, how I can funnel my magic into each ring to shape the outcome of the transmutation circle. It’s meant to be a smaller circle than some of the larger ones we’ve been learning and intended to enchant items for safety and protection. I imagine my tracker charm was created much the same way, through rings and rings of sigils. The rings within the circle are joined by nexuses of power, anchor sigils that help focus the magic and link together the layers of intention. It’s complex magic, to be sure, but withCassian and Simon’s help, plus Professor Grafton’s tutoring, I’m sure I can catch up in my two spellcrafting classes.
My whole pack is helping me catch up, even Luca, who’s playing catch up himself. He sits with me at the kitchen table, and quizzes me on the tenets of magical theory. When he’s not helping me, we study together, but mostly I watch him cast the most complex transmutation circles I’ve ever seen as he catches up on his Transmogrification homework. Watching him work is a revelation. I’ve always known he’s a talented mage, but to see his magic in action is something different altogether. While I don’t think I’ll ever learn Transmogrification, watching him perform it is a joy.
My favorite place to study is in an oversized chair in the Leclerc library before a crackling fire. I read through my textbooks and work on my missed homework until my eyes go blurry, eventually seeking out Ian who’s working on lesson plans at the desk.
He opens his arms for me, and I fit myself onto his lap, sighing as I rest my head against his chest, drawing in his cedar-and-bergamot scent.
“Tired, my darling?”
“Of studying,” I say. “I feel like all I’ve been doing is studying.”
“You have been. You’re catching up quickly, quite admirably, I’d say. I’m beyond proud of you for how hard you’ve been working, but you need a break.”
“Do you have something in mind?” I ask in a low voice as his scent spikes.
“As it turns out, I do.”
He captures my lips in a kiss that steals my breath, adjusting me on his lap until I’m straddling his legs, until I can feel his thick hardness against my core. I let out a needy whine, and he grinds me against his length, making me pant with need. “Shall I get your pack?” he murmurs in my ear.
“Yes,” I breathe. “Yes please. But I… I want Marcus too. Is that… okay?”
“Why wouldn’t it be? He’s one of us, isn’t he? So go get him.”
“Me?” I squeak. “I thought you were gathering my pack.”
He taps the tips of his fingers against my lips. “Marcus isn’t your pack yet.”
I sit back on Ian’s lap with a frown, and Ian must feel my nervousness skittering through our bond.
“What is it, my darling? Are you nervous about talking to Marcus?”
“A little,” I admit in a small voice. “Being part of pack play is… a lot. What if he doesn’t want it? What if he doesn’t want me?”
“He will,” Ian promises, brushing a kiss at the corner of my mouth. “He’s just as insatiable for you as the rest of us are. Go. I’ll tell the rest of our pack to expect him.” He presses a kiss to my forehead, to each of my cheeks, to the very tip of my nose and then to my lips. “Go and be brave. He won’t reject you.”
I steel myself and slide off Ian’s lap. I can do this. I can invite the man I love into my nest.
