The Coven (Coven of Bones, #1)(23)

“No,” he said, his brow furrowing as he grasped my hand in his. He turned it over, looking at my uninjured skin and wiping away grains of dirt. “You make me wish I hadn’t given up my own magic. I think maybe that’s something worth protecting.”

The smile drifted off my face as I met his gaze, staring up at him. My shock took over, consuming every waking thought. Of all the things he could have said, that hadn’t been what I’d expected.

To exist without my magic felt like losing part of myself, like losing the most important part of what made me, me. I didn’t know who I was without the whisper of the earth in my veins or the scent of the woods filling my lungs.

Even now, knowing what I’d given would return with time and rest… I felt like nothing. Like an empty shell of myself.

Of all the things the Coven had done, I was fairly certain the Choice that male witches were required to make was the most cruel. Family or magic.

“This doesn’t look like her room, Mr. Bray,” Thorne’s voice said from behind me.

I groaned as I hung my head forward, my forehead pressing against Iban’s white dress shirt. His tie tickled my cheek as I tried to ignore the weight of the headmaster’s gaze pressing into my spine.

“We got distracted,” Iban said, helping me to maneuver my legs up onto the stone. He climbed up beside me, moving through to help pull me along the stone as gently as he could manage.

I giggled as I stumbled into his arms, the delirium of my exhaustion making me feel half-drunk. It had been so long since I’d allowed myself to feel such things, the risks far outweighing the benefits most of the time. To be depleted of magic so suddenly was a shock to the system, making me crave some sort of stability.

I knew the moment Thorne realized what I’d done, his body tensing as Iban wrapped an arm around my waist and supported me as I stumbled through the first step.

“Here,” Thorne said, raising his wrist to his mouth.

He brushed his suit jacket up his arm, unfastening his cufflinks so that he could roll his sleeve up and out of the way. He sank his fangs into his flesh slowly, holding my gaze with his burnished steely stare. Blood coated his lips when he pulled it away, stepping toward me and raising it to my mouth.

I reared back.

“Drink. It will help replenish your magic.”

I shook my head as I frowned, disgust rolling through my gut. If his blood was inside of me, he’d have certain… access to me, and I would be less able to fight. His compulsion would be stronger. He’d be able to sense me wherever I went; my emotions would be easier for him to feel as if they were his.

“Don’t be stubborn,” Thorne growled, reaching forward to grasp me around the back of the neck so that he could hold me still. He pressed his wrist against my mouth, his nostrils flaring when I kept it clamped firmly shut. “Open your fucking mouth and drink, Witchling.”

“She doesn’t seem to want it, Headmaster Thorne,” Iban said, and something about the caution and disbelief in his voice made me believe it wasn’t something that the Vessels offered often.

“Must you be so impossible?” Thorne asked, finally withdrawing his wrist.

I waited until the puncture marks healed over before I let my lips part enough to speak. I carefully wiped the blood off my face with my forearm, not allowing a single drop or smear to touch my tongue.

“Must you be such an asshole?” I asked, ignoring the choking sound Iban made as I took a step away from Thorne. The younger male was quick to step with me, supporting me as I did my best to walk on my own. My legs felt like Jell-O beneath me, trembling with each and every step.

“At least have the decency to carry her if you want to pretend to be chivalrous,” Thorne barked, and I felt the way Iban twitched in response.

“I’m not pretending to be anything,” he protested, but he made no move to pick me up. That suited me just fine, as having him assist me with walking was embarrassing enough. I didn’t need him to realize I was too heavy and drop me.

“For Hell’s sake,” Thorne groaned behind me.

I took another step, and nausea swirled in my gut when my foot never touched the stone. My world went upside down as Thorne swept my feet out from under me, catching me beneath the knees and placing his other arm around my back.

I squealed as I flung my arms around his neck without thought, the blueness of his stare far too piercing when we were this close.

“Put me down,” I whispered, swallowing down my unease.

Greens were not meant to be off the ground entirely. Even stone tile was better than this Hell.

“Do shut up, Miss Madizza,” he said as he strode forward, making his way down the corridor and toward the entry hall we’d entered the school in. There were no remaining students to mingle, and all was quiet as he headed for the stairwell.

“Rude,” I snapped, squirming in his grip.

“All that will do is make me more inclined to drop you,” he said, his gaze pinned on where he was going as he carried me. He was careful not to jostle me too much as the ache of my depleted magic settled into my bones.

I scoffed. “As if you aren’t already inclined to do that.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled at the edges as a deep rumble began in his chest. It was a rare, genuine smile, and I stared in shock as his lips spread into a wide grin.

“Do you ever get tired of your own attitude?”