At least in the mental visions he continued to force upon me.
I asked him last night if it was all just for show, a fantasy he created to live through since his reality didn’t measure up. He’d taken that as a challenge to drive me mad, and he’d thoroughly succeeded.
“Mmm, you do know. Now I’m intrigued,” he said, referring to my taunt.
“You’re paired with Stiggis,” Kols reminded him. “So fuck off.”
“Sadly, Stiggis isn’t in class today. Some sort of family emergency involving Cordelia. Tragic, I’m sure. Anyway, I came over to play with my little rose instead,” Shade replied.
“She’s my partner, Shade. Find someone else to irritate.”
“Hmm, maybe I should just join you both,” Shade suggested, a grin in his voice. “Unless you’re afraid it might be too much for her to handle, what with the sensations and all that.” I flinched at his suggestive tone and the way his icy blue eyes glimmered with knowledge.
“I—”
“Stop fucking around,” Zeph interjected, cutting me off. “Shade, work with Kols. I’ll handle Aflora’s lesson for today.” He grabbed me by the elbow, leading me away before either male could reply.
I twisted out of his grip when we came to a stop in the corner of the courtyard and lifted a brow. “Is everything all right?”
“We’re not here to chat,” he snapped. “Take out your wand and perform the spell so I can see how much I need to correct before the next exercise.”
Right, someone’s in jerk mode. An ivy plant must have crawled up his butt this morning and latched on.
Not wanting to pry or make things even more uncomfortable between us, I pulled out my wand and muttered the incantation. A gorgeous bird with black and white feathers swooped down from the sky to land beside me, its yellow-and-black beak parting to release a sound of welcome.
I smiled at the beautiful creature. “Good morning to you, too, my darling Clove.” I bent to run a finger along her soft feathers, having named her last night. She blinked big obsidian eyes at me, then leaned into my touch, her only confirmation of comfort.
“A falcon,” Zeph mused, eyeing my familiar. “I would have expected a snail or something else slow and easy to kill, not a bird o
f prey.”
I narrowed my gaze at him. “I’m not easy to kill.”
He snorted. “Yeah. You are.” He had his wand out in a flash, the same spell murmured beneath his breath to call his own animal protector to life.
I jumped as a slithering snake appeared, its tail long and as thick as my wrist. But it was the heads that grabbed my focus. There were three of them, all split at the proverbial snake neck—if a snake even had such a thing.
My falcon shifted, noticing my unease, the feathers along the wings beginning to flutter with power as the wings flexed outward. “Your familiar is a snake?” I asked, taking an unsteady step backward.
“Obviously.”
The black and green scales began to move as the snake slithered toward me, three sets of beady red eyes seeming to glare at my existence. “I don’t think it likes me,” I whispered, sliding back another few inches.
“It’s my familiar, not yours,” he replied, folding his arms. “He senses how I feel and acts accordingly.”
Which meant his three-headed creation would be in a similar mood to his master.
“Maybe this isn’t a good idea,” I said, eyeing the murderous glare coming from his familiar. Zeph might maintain a bored exterior, but inside, he appeared to be furious over something.
And that fury was definitely being reflected in his pet snake as it slithered toward me.
My falcon bristled again, letting out a warning caw of a sound that scattered goose bumps down my arms.
“Zeph,” I whispered.
“Headmaster Zephyrus,” he returned, his tone dripping ice. His snake hissed in response, the three heads echoing the sentiment and causing Clove to screech angrily.
I jumped backward, the two animals lunging for one another at the same time and squabbling across the ground.