Spellcaster (Weatherstone College, #1)

by Jaymin Eve

Except, I woke in one of his hoodies. A deep green one, close in color to the moss his eyes turned when he was channeling strong emotions. I woke surrounded by minty evergreen, with new aches between my thighs.

There’d been no repeat of the best sex of my life, but he watched me closer now, with this fire burning in the icy green depths of his eyes.

I grunted when my arm and side slammed into the ground, and not even a second later, I forgot my pain as I was hauled up against a hard chest, a recognizable scent surrounding me. “Logan,” I murmured. His laughter was as dark as that fucking witch wine. “Precious, you’re always testing my limits.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked Logan, ignoring Marcus. “If you need a spellcaster,” he said, a dangerous edge to those words. “Then you use me.”

“Fuck, Precious. Go with Marcus. I’ll be close by if you need any help.” His gaze drifted to the lake behind us. “Especially if you’re going in the water.”

“I can’t do much more than that,” I warned him. “Not without a boost of energy to unlock the full potential of my own.” He assessed me for a beat, turning his head from where we stood side by side. “How do you get a boost?” An arm wrapped around my waist, and I barely stopped the gasp leaving my lips. “Like this,” Logan said softly.

Crossing my arms over myself, I tried to hide the tremble in my hands. “You did that deliberately,” I said to Logan, refusing to look at him. His eyes were bewitching, ironically. “You’re controlling and manipulating my life, and I can’t tell yet if it’s to help me or make everything much worse.” His gaze burned into the side of my face, taunting me to look at him, but I held strong. Mostly. “When have I made your life worse, best friend?”

“Hear me now, Paisley Hallistar. There’s always only been one endgame for us. The journey might vary, but the end will never fucking change. Our endgame was written when you were four.”

“How does your power feel?” he asked, that rumble of his accent deeper than usual. I choked on a gasp as I felt the first crash of his power against mine. I’d forgotten the intensity.

Logan’s smile wasn’t nice. “Paisley belongs to me. You know that, and I’ll kill anyone that takes her from me.”

Logan’s gaze snapped to me, and he examined me in a burning sweep. “One month,” he countered. “I’ll give you one month and then I’m coming for you, Precious.”