After Prince Shiloh walked out of the classroom, Emma glanced at the entirety of the classroom just once, taking note of the faces in the classroom, before sauntering to the seat that was beside Adah, the seat she had chosen for herself, the seat that had looked like it had been reserved for her specially.
“Hello…” She made the first talk, when she sat on the seat, and enjoyed the comforting feeling it gave to her ass. Maybe magic?
‘Or it’s just a good chair made with good tools.’
Emma held back a scoff. Eden could be so nosy. A killjoy.
Eden scoffed for the both of them.
“Hi, I’m…”
“Adah. I’m Emma.”
‘Showing off already?’
Emma ignored her wolf. She watched rather how Adah’s face switched from elated to surprise, then confusion.
“How did you know my name?”
Emma shrugged her shoulders. “Whilst dueling with the professors, you had been the only one that had voted for my win. I heard your confident words. It was quite… interesting, considering the fact that you didn’t know me from anywhere.”
Adah cocked her head to the side, not believing what she was hearing, yet having no choice but to believe. “You heard me, even whilst immersed in battle? Well, you have a wolf, so that’s possible. That’s fascinating. Still, I’m Adah. And it’s nice to meet you, Emma.”
Emma nodded, a half smile on her lips. They would be fine. Her attention was grabbed by the door the next minute, when it cracked open. She watched with appeal, as a professor with a white long hair, which cascaded down to his waist, walked into the room.
“That’s Annabel’s cousin.” She heard Adah whisper into her ears.
Annabel’s cousin? Emma took note of the handsomeness in front of her, and whistled, becoming abashed the next second when all eyes reverted to her, when she became the center of attention to the handsome professor with startling purple eyes. She had never seen eyes like that, eyes that were that piercing.
Was that truly the color of his eyes, or was it a lens? She had a feeling it was the former, and it left her curious. A curiosity that outweighed the abashment by the passing second. Purple eyes? She had never seen such before. She met the professor’s gaze, refusing to slink into her shell in shame. Whistling at a hotness wasn’t a sin. The male should be proud instead.
“Is there a problem, Miss Makonel?” His voice was deep and throaty.
Emma held down her hand which threatened to fan her face which wasn’t exactly hot. If Amelia was here, the case would have been different. Her sister would have definitely whistled again, would have definitely fanned her face for emphasis.
“Not at all, professor …” She paused, and he filled his name.
“Salom.”
Professor Salom. Why hadn’t Annabel told her that she had a hot cousin? Were there others like that? She heard Eden sigh wearingly, and smirked.
‘Don’t even dare. I have a mate already.’
Emma’s humor immediately died down.
When Eden realized her mistake, it was already too late. Emma has locked her out.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, Professor Salom. Continue your teachings… please.”
Professor Salom piqued an eyebrow at the sudden coldness in Emma’s voice, but said nothing. He rather turned to the blackboard and wrote his subject on the black board. He had no business dwelling on the enemy.
***
Tempest was looking up, at the skies, wondering at her existence, wondering at the depression eating her up for a male that wasn’t worth it, when she felt the sting on her chest. She looked away from the skies, down to her throbbing chest, and wondered what was wrong.
At first, her mind ran to her children, but she knew that her mother would take absolute care of them, could even die in their stead, and stopped her feet which were already attempting to run off in the direction of the witches’ community. Her mind went to Sheila next. But she discounted it. Her best friend was in the capable hands of the ancients, and her daughters. Nothing could harm them, at least not yet. Then, it could only be Ketura.
When the sting dropped again, she knew she was right. Immediately, her heart dropped to her stomach, even as she hurried in the direction of the latter’s cabin. As she ran, she whipped out the small phone she had bought for situations like this, a device she forgot most times that she had, shocked when she saw missed calls from her friend.
Oh god please, let nothing happen to my friend. She thought, increasing her running pace. But she felt that she wasn’t running enough. So, she bent down on the forest floor, and picked a fallen branch of a tree. Without much ado, she muttered spells over the fat stick and resumed running. When she was sure that her magic had worked, she held the stick by the head and slanted it between her legs. Then, she sat her buttocks by the tail of the stick, and flew, like the witches demonstrated in books, to Keturah’s cabin, her prayers never stopping for one minute.
When Tempest got to Keturah’s cabin, the first thing she noticed was that the door was wide open. Her fear for the safety of her friend spiked, but she managed to calm herself, and jump down from the stick, leaving it floating in the air. She walked to the entrance door, making sure that the guards around her were up.
When she walked into the room, the first thing she noticed was the paper on the table. It was like her mind had zeroed in on whatever should be focused on. When she picked the letter and saw Leonarya’s handwriting, she gritted her teeth, despite the shock that Leonarya had found this area. How was that possible?
She, in particular, had made sure that this cabin had stayed hidden. Had her mother’s and Margo’s presence destroyed the guards? But that was impossible. It wasn’t how her magic worked. It could only mean that Leonarya had tapped into some kind of power.
Tempest, anger soaring over her, rumpled the piece of paper in her hands. After hearing Margo’s confession, she had felt stupid for letting go of her sister, but now she felt anger, deep seated anger. When was the latter ever going to stop? She balled her fists, stepped out of the house and shut the door firmly with magic. She was going to get back her friend today. She didn’t care how many laws of magic she would break. But she would get Keturah back today. Not the next day.