Page 6 of Wings and Shadowthief

Right now, Gwen’s fingers trembled under the effort they’d taken, but at the same time, she could have sung and broken into a dance. For the first time ever, she could do the assignment she’d always failed, the one thing that made her the worst water witch in her class.

Define her magic.

Part of her felt a little bad. Just because she didn’t want anything to do with Jack didn’t mean that she wanted to kill the guy, and the gods knew that these sharp, dark spikes were made to cause serious damage. Thankfully, killing Jack Hunter wasn’t an easy feat. He’d leaped back far enough in plenty of time and was clear of the weapons.

As though the spikes didn’t speak for themselves, Gwen translated what they meant. “You don’t get to touch me. You don’t get to speak to me. You don’t get to say my name. Understood?”

Jack was looking at her in a way he never had before. Like she was dangerous. Something he had to watch. Something he had torespect.

Good. About time.

She turned on her heel.

By the gods, she needed a nap.

But it looked like she had to write her essence of magic essay instead. Better late than never.

Daughter of Sand

What the fuck wasthat?

He wasn’t surprised by Gwen’s display of magic, of course. He’d always sensed the potential of the destructive power within her. That she’d used it against him wasn’t a shocker, given how utterly pissed she was. Her visible fury was a red-hot living thing. And in all honesty, seeing her surrounded by magic, glowing with confidence and fury as she gave in to the power she’d always repressed made him hard as steel. He would have bent her over and plunged into her depths if she’d been even remotely interested, regardless of his commitment to keeping things simple at Oldcrest.

His desire for Gwen was so intense it bordered on insanity, but he couldn’t bring himself to care overmuch.

The one thing spooking him right now was what he’d felt when he’d touched her smooth brown skin. What he’dseen.

Just flashes, but that had been enough.

As clear as day, he’d seen her in his arms. Heard her moan and throw her head back, saying his name over and over.

“Hunter!”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, triplefuck.

Jack couldn’t believe he might have gone there with her and forgotten about it.

How fucking unfair was that? If Gwen hated him because of it, at least the universe owed him the courtesy of letting him remember fucking the hottest woman he knew.

“Dammit!”

No wonder he was in trouble. Jack hadn’t ever been discourteous to Gwen—when in control of his body, at least—but he certainly hadn’t treated her like one might have expected from someone who knew what her pussy tasted like.

He was in so much shit.

Huntsmen busted out of the line of trees along the back of the Institute moments later, thankfully providing a much-needed distraction.

He had prizes to distribute, jokes to make, friends to drink beer with.

Then he could try to hire a witch to dig inside his brain.

“Ican’t see anything.”

Jack sighed. Blair was the eleventh witch he’d asked for help, and like all her peers, all she gave him was an apologetic smile.

“It’s not that I can’t access your memory—you’ve opened your mind, so I can. But there’s a block over that day. It feels like a brick wall. To go past it, I’d need to hit it with the mental equivalent of C4. That’s the kind of thing we only do to enemies. It could mess up your brain.”

He nodded, having heard the same thing often over the last week.

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