This version of her is unfamiliar. Gone is the guarded, clipped girl. When she does speak, her words are harsh, but she is in control until I push her far enough. The leash Nora put on her must have snapped. Finally, I get to see who this witch really is.
As much as I want to see what this malevolent being can do, my students are still here. I can handle Millicent. They can’t.
“I will do whatever the fuck I want.” To prove her point, Millicent forces down the last few standing students, slamming them into their chairs with an invisible force. Their frightened eyes dart to me, panic dawning as they realize she can get into their minds too. She’s fast. Too fast. She slips in alongside me, digging into their consciousness and sowing pain sharp enough to buckle their knees.
I remain calm, a sly grin curling on my lips as the collar singes her neck. “Keep doing whatever the fuck you want,” I say, mocking her words as the scent of burning skin rises. “And your throat will be burned through entirely.” The fury radiating from her when she reaches me is delicious.
“What the fuck is this?” she seethes, grabbing the steel collar on her neck, tugging at it. The skin around her neck is already blistered and red.
“Is knowledge not required in order to be heir in your coven? Seems rather important that a queen would be smart.”
“Oh, and I suppose being a murderous asshole is what qualifies someone to be the king's mage? Teacher of the year?”
“You did stab me, remember.”
“Oh, boohoo! Get over it!” she snaps, flinging her arms up in wild frustration. So much for the calm, brooding heir. Nora was a mask, never showing any emotion save for the occasional tight smile. Millicent is all raw emotion.
“Get over…being stabbed? And forced into a bond?” I smirk. “If you want to be with me so badly, you could’ve just asked. Not that I’d say yes. Maybe if you begged, practiced your pleases.”
She doesn’t take the bait; she throws it. A fist sails toward my face, but I lean to the side just in time.
Nowthat’sgood form. Why can’t the guards hit like that?
I catch her wrist mid-strike, twisting it behind her back in one fluid motion. With a quick shift, I slam her forward onto my desk, feeling her ragged breath under my grip.
“Now, class, this is Millicent. Say hi to the witch.” I can’t help but taunt her as she curses and thrashes under me.
“Hello, Millicent,” my students say in unison, some smiling while others snicker.
Gods I love humiliating her. Shit kind of turns me on.
She’s still cursing me, vowing slow painful deaths and revenge, but I ignore them. “Depending on the witch, some are skilled in hand-to-hand combat.” I explain, still holding her. “This one in particular is arareblood and dark magic user. And, as you’ve just witnessed, she’s quite capable in close quarters.”
Sounds of awe ripple through the room. None of them have ever seen a witch handle two schools of magic. I allow her to be feared.
“The collar she wears suppresses her magic. The runes in it are ancient; the one who placed the collar is the only one who can remove it. The longer she uses magic, the more it burns. Push it far enough, and it’ll sear through her throat.”
With my free hand, I gather the hem of her gown, sliding it up her legs.
She goes still. “What the fuck are you doing?” She thrashes, trying to break free, but without her magic, I overpower her easily.
“Well-trained witches often conceal weapons. This one favors daggers; something to keep in mind.”
I pause, just at the swell of her ass. She’s still covered, but the exposure is enough to make a point. I lean in close, my weight settling on her back. My head dips, brushing my voice to her ear.
“No secret daggers tucked higher, Le Strange?” I murmur. “I can perform a more thorough search if necessary.”
She snaps her head toward me, bearing her teeth. She tries to bite me, but she misses by a few inches.
“You have the collar on,” I say coolly. “Don’t make me muzzle you too, pet.”
“What the fuck is your problem?” she spits. “You killed my mother, my sisters; now you attack me?”
Her body twists beneath mine, the friction between us growing harder to ignore. She’s infuriated and wild, and it makes her power hum even without magic. She’s proving to be more of a distraction than I had planned.
“Class dismissed.”
Chairs scrape back. Robes swish. Not one of them questions me. They whisperhushed words between one another as they take their leave. More curious than worried, they know the power I possess.
