Apollo, the God of Prophecy, felt inclined to share this bit of wisdom after my first encounter with Kyra’s scorching mental thoughts. A hellish yell traveled through realms, which forced me into transferring here, leaving everything behind.
Never has someone blazed a path into my thoughts, let alone from such a distance. I can only hope my suspicions of what is to come are accurate. Then again, I’ve been wrong on more than one occasion.
Kyra shifts, her movements resulting in a hand rubbing against my lower abdomen, and sparks of a blush pepper her cheeks. A skin shade of polished red painite speckles over hues of achampagne diamond. Two of the rarest gems and a beautiful mix of colors.
“Are you okay?” This magnetic pull nudges us closer.
She takes a breath, calming the rush of heat flushing everything above her collar. “Yes, I’m okay.” A whisper, yet my body screams in defying the restraints set upon itself. “Sorry for not paying attention.” She forces a smile, which makes this encounter more…uncomfortable for her.
“Why is he so damn close, and why don’t I want him to move?”
“No need to apologize, accidents happen.” Backing up, I notice her shoulders ease. I’ll punish myself later for this distasteful violation. I know better, yet a simple urge forced my hands into acting on the pleasures of a caged beast.You will yield to my command. Not the other way around, Abraxis.
Her smile morphs into a more genuine one as she catches my hand pushing back a few tendrils of hair, lingering on my ears before tracing my features down to a tattoo peeking under my collar through a few unfastened buttons. Curiosity gleams at what lies beneath my thin layer of threads.
“Kyra, is it okay if we take a walk?” Perhaps this will lessen the unfair environment she has found herself in, standing by the effects of my lecture room.
“Uh sure. That would be helpful.”
Her soft steps trail after mine, and we embark towards a location shielded against prying ears.“I’m sorry, but he does have a squeezable ass. A perfectly toned, heart shaped ass. Biteable and…Stop, Kyra.”
She scolds herself, and it’s a good thing I’m walking ahead. I would be in more trouble if she saw how broad my smile is. But then again, she will never know.
We round a corner and take the stairs up, passing a few windows, and I catch her reflection looking out upon Rebirth’s lands. Her thoughts race a mile a minute with mentions of Rebecca and myself, Ethan, Alex, Blaise, Russ, Raine, and even Marcel. Not to mention the four females she lists as ‘Mean Girls.’
It’s a list of uncertainty, and judging by her aura pressing into my back with waves of doubt, she is withholding more than what runs rampant in her mind.
“My first week of class and everything’s clawing at a chance to take me off my path. Training, near death experiences, and a few jealous bitches not worth my time. Yet somehow, everyone either wants me dead, trying to get to know me, or more. Wishing for a peaceful day is like searching for a needle in a haystack. I’ll never find it.”
She sighs, and it’s now my mission to deliver a distraction.But what’s a ‘needle in a haystack,’ and why would one search for this magical item?
Placing another mental wall between us in hopes of lessening my intrusion, I stop. “We’ve arrived,” I say, standing in front of a thin marble door, green streaks spread throughout. Before she voices her question of where we are, I push it open and breach the roof’s entrance. Kyra follows not far behind me.
A low sitting sun clings to a fleeting life of colorful rays as we experience a rippling breeze. The air feels light, tingling with small bursts of energy like bubbles popping after pouring a fresh glass of rosé.
I create some distance, but not much, allowing her a full view of the grounds she will soon call home for the next four or five years, depending on which path Kyra intends to take. Becoming a Goddess, or a profession amongst the inhabiting fays.
There is a divide with a large margin of students aiming for Godhood, and a lesser number seeking a role in our society. Royal Guards, the Queen’s Council, Lord of Lands, Defender, Hunter, Elder, and more fitting roles required to sustain life in our lands and others.
After their first year is over, students are required to pick a path, and Godhood is by far the harshest, with fewer Gods stepping down and low life expectancy. Those upon this route have different reasons in search of immortality, ascension, and becoming ethereal beings for praise and worship. An unspecified desire for theirdecision.
Despite the two years of knowing this fearsome woman, I’m left unsure which she will choose, yet know I’m drawn here for a predestined purpose.
“Everything’s beautiful from this position.” Her gaze takes it all in. “Are those the other Houses?” She points, stepping closer towards the ledge, and a spark of dark aura nibbles at my veins.
Calculating if this hunger will break the pact or if I’ll be edging the line of defiance, I know neither satisfies this craving of having her close, nor the burn of temptation whispering in my ears.
“May I?” I ask, caving to my worst desires and holding out a hand for her to take. She hesitates, all signs pointing towards indifference.
“Oh my God, oh my God, don’t freak out, it’s just holding hands.”Kyra’s thoughts smash away my shields with ease.“Then why am I hesitant? It’s not like he’s trying to hurt me.”She peers up then back down to my palms.“Is there some kind of law saying teachers and students can’t hold hands?”She gives me another once-over as her mind pours into mine.“Girl, grab that man’s hand.”
“It’ll only be for a moment. I can’t have you falling over the edge and have the wrath of others coming after me.” I chuckle, and not a second after, her fingers glide over mine, interlocking with a delicate touch, and my chest bursts with some kind of flutter.
A sensation migrates into the furthest pit of my stomach, and I lock my fingers with a firmer hold. Noting my own cheeks burn as blood pools beneath my skin.
Perfect.I agree with Abraxis.
We move towards the ledge, and magic flings from a twitching finger on my other hand, sending tremors rippling beneath us until a set of chairs spring from the roof’s marble material. Carved legs, arm holds, and soft cushions, thick for her comfort.
