The Entanglement of Rival Wizards (Magic and Romance, #1)

by Sara Raasch

Lock up your kids, Sebastian Walsh might come along and tempt them to fall upon the sacrificial altar of student debt.

What’s the point of magic if you don’t get to use it for silly shit anyway.

“Plus, apparently the only stories he tells are brutal recountings of raids on Danish villages that get a little racist. No one wants to work with him.”

“Did you think I was trading sexual favors for a dead body?”

“This is the last time our codependency cockblocks me.

because holy shit, am I getting fucked by a god’s plans now.

It’s possible I might be overexaggerating the negative impact of this, but damn it if I’m not going to wallow.

We’ve been at each other’s throats. We’ve insulted each other and played dumb pranks. But neither of us has tried to be, gasp, cordial, so by gods, that’s what I’ll do. And the fact that I’ll be the first of us to attempt this feat of adult sensibility means I win the moral high ground forever and ever, so he can suck it.

“Go fuck yourself, Walsh.” “I will, and I’ll think of you while I do it.”

My hackles go up. They were already up. They go up higher. I’m wearing an Elizabethan neck ruff of hackles.

settle into his pillow. “Tomorrow’s the day: we’re officially going to have your therapist help us work through our codependency issues.”

can make him uncomfortable very, very easily, turns out. But I don’t take advantage of that. It doesn’t feel like discomfort. Not really. Oh, gods. You know what? It’s cold in here. Think I’ll keep my clothes fully on today. Maybe come in tomorrow wearing a hazmat suit, normal laboratory fashion.

“Contain your manspreading, Elethior,” I grumble.

Then I do the only thing I can possibly do in a situation like this. I snatch a vial off my component belt, turn myself invisible, and run from the room.

heapin’ helpin’ of emotional baggage.

“What if I want to talk about it,” he repeats, “because I can’t stop thinking about it?”

Kissing Elethior Tourael should be as catastrophic as the worst thing I’ve done. And it is. But it’s not a bad catastrophe,

Has our every argument been foreplay for him? Has our every argument been foreplay for me?

Great. Now I’ve got a boner on the bus.

It sucks, but there’ll be no more sucking.

“I’ve had your dick in my mouth. Figure you can call me Thio now.”

apartment; is it another challenge? Horny chicken?

And what would you say has been the most beneficial tool towards your reconciliation?” “I—” Do not say sex, do not say sex.

“I can pick you up Monday morning,” he gasps. “Yeah?” I nip lazily at his mouth, palms flat on the door on either side of his head. “It’s on your way?” He grins. “No.”

But I nod, pretty sure there are heart emojis circling my eyes. “Okay.”

After her daring exploits, during which we are told she assisted in the recovery of a stolen wallet and prevented a fire on the second floor of the Herbology building, the infant basilisk is no longer available for adoption, and will instead be trained to become a guide basilisk for the visually impaired. Have a happy spring break!

free myself from Orok’s clutches. “If you’re done discussing my dowry, we’re off.”

“Ah. My prejudices and virulent sex appeal are the only reasons you’re with me. The truth comes out.”

You’re asking people in positions of immense power to admit they fucked up, and that will never happen.”

“No matter how long it’s been,” he says, attention on the floor. “It’s like I’m a kid again.”

They’d take it, and they’d abuse it, because that’s what Touraels do.”

Oh my

“Yeah, Dad.” I wipe my damp cheek on my sleeve. “I’m on my way to propose to that boy right now.”