Foretold (St. Bastian Institute 1) - Page 18

A moment later, Peter stood. No evidence of what he was embarrassed about to be seen. I didn’t breathe a word because the idea of him being turned on just from a little bit of sparring was too much for my brain to handle right then.

“Okay, let’s go again,” I said briskly.

“I don’t know how to do this,” Peter replied, looking stressed.

“Just remember what Mr Roe said. He’s taught us lots of techniques for this sort of thing. You have skills you’re not even aware of.”

“If I’m not aware of them, then how can I use them?” he complained.

“Think about it like this. Everyone has advantages and disadvantages when it comes to fighting. I’m smaller than you, which puts me at a disadvantage, but I’m faster and more agile. You don’t have my fighting skills, but you’re big, and you certainly aren’t weak. Those are your advantages. Use them to take me down.”

“So, I need to … use my size?”

“Exactly. Use your height and your width to block me. Your weight, too. Crowd me in before I can use my speed to get the upper hand.”

“Okay,” Peter replied, though he still looked wary.

He reached out to grab me, but I quickly side-stepped him. He tried again, and again, I moved out of his reach. He made the same mistake a third time, and his eyebrows drew into a thick, concentrated line. I could tell he was frustrated, thinking hard and trying to figure out a way to get to me. On the fourth try, he reached for me, but before I could zip away, he moved quickly. The grab was a distraction, and while I was moving out of the way, he moved faster, my back meeting his broad chest as his arms came around me from behind. I momentarily lost my footing. This was the problem with sparring with someone you were attracted to. Every time he touched me, I lost a few IQ points. The sensation of his arms around me was enough to fuel a whole year’s worth of longing and dirty dreams.

“Good,” I said, my voice a little breathy. “You caught me. Now you just need to take me dow—.”

Just like that, Peter used his foot to sweep my legs out from under me. Seconds later, my cheek met the mat. Peter’s large body held me down, his warm palm between my shoulder blades. It felt so good that I held still, not wanting the moment to end.

Sadly, it didn’t last nearly long enough. Within seconds, Peter was off me, standing to his full height. He held his hand out to help me up, and though I could’ve been sneaky and used the opportunity to pull him down and straddle him again, I didn’t. My nerves couldn’t handle another sexy floor entanglement.

I took his hand, my palm sliding against his. Electricity zipped up my arm.

“See,” I said as I righted myself. “You’re better at this than you give yourself credit for. I didn’t see that move coming at all. You’ve got a good poker face.”

“Thanks,” Peter said just as an odd, burning sensation touched the back of my neck. I gasped and leapt forward. Peter caught me, his hands gripping my shoulders. “Darya, are you okay?”

“Something’s burning me,” I shrieked as hot pain sliced down my neck.

His eyes flashed with panic. “Where?”

“My neck. The back of my neck.” I strained against the agony as I felt Peter’s magic come to life. He placed his bare hand to the back of my neck, and it was blessedly cold. Preternaturally cold. He was using a spell. His lips moved as he muttered an incantation, negating whatever the hell was burning me.

Then, as he did, his posture drew deathly still. “It’s Belinda,” he whispered. His eyes were focused somewhere behind me.

“What?” I asked, too relieved by the cold emanating from his hand to pay attention to his words.

“Belinda Williams. She cast a spell to cause you pain,” he replied, sounding furious.

4.

I was still reeling when I asked, “How do you know?”

“She thinks she’s talented enough to hide it, but I can see the residue of magic surrounding her.”

“I knew she was going to try something. She’s been staring daggers at me ever since Mr Williams’ class this morning.”

“We need to report her to Principal Wolf. It’s forbidden to use magic against another student,” Peter said, and I was surprised by how angry he sounded on my behalf.

“No,” I replied, relieved that whatever magic Peter had summoned was depleting the power of Belinda’s spell. A few more seconds passed, and the burning subsided completely. I didn’t tell Peter that because then he’d stop touching me, and I wanted the moment to continue.

“Why not? She’s being reckless and needs to be reprimanded.”

“I’ll deal with her in my own way,” I replied, staring up at him. We were close enough that I could feel the warmth of his minty breath against my cheek.

Tags: L.H. Cosway St. Bastian Institute Fantasy
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