Page 72 of Obsidian and Frost
It was one that I’d been looking forward to the most, by far.
It was being taught by Professor Selix Nyvarra, a renowned and revered Shadowmancer.
Cornelius and Warlow had been right—there was a great deal that I could learn from her.
I couldn’t wait.
Anticipation thrummed as students milled into the classroom, and I looked around the space, taking it all in, etching this moment of my first class—the beginning of something awesome—into my memory.
The desks were heavy dark wood and the chairs were unbelievably comfortable—upholstered in midnight-blue velvet with curved feet. There was a shimmering magical circle up at the front that had tomes floating in midair that would change to ones specific for the class once the professor took their place there. Cathedral-style windows with quartz panes stretched thelength of the far-left side of the room and stone arch doorways led the way into the space to begin with.
As I settled my notebook and pen on my desk—one at the edge of the gangway and closest to the door, my phone buzzed in beside it.
I snatched it up to see a text from Lazriel.
A stupid grin spread over my face.
Lazriel:You still ride?
Not what I’d been expecting.
Velra:It’s been a while.
Lazriel:Is your bike at Cornelius and Warlow’s place?
Yeah, he knew about my Harley. It had come up one day during a Crossborn meeting when he’d flirtatiously asked me if I’d like to take a ride with him. The way in which he’d said it had come across as one hell of a dirty innuendo. But then he’d explained that he actually did have his own motorcycle, and I’d told him about mine.
Velra:Yeah. Why?
Lazriel:Figured we’d go stunting tonight. You down?
Velra:Sounds like fun. I’m in.
Lazriel:Meet you in the Obscura Common Room at 7.p.m.
Velra:I’ll be there. Enjoy your Instinct & Invocation class this morning.
Lazriel:Love that you know my schedule. ?? Have fun in your Weaving class.
Velra:I’m so excited!
Lazriel:I bet it’s gonna live up to expectations. See you soon. Gotta go.
Velra:Soon.
I smiled to myself as I turned my phone off for class, then put it away in my messenger bag, hanging it over the back of my chair.
No sooner had I done that than I caught sight of that distinctive brown spiky hair with the maroon tips.
“Little Wraith,” Sylas was greeting me in the next moment with a sexy smile, as he sauntered into the classroom, his hooded coat flapping behind him majestically. His formidable and confident presence immediately filled up the space—like, the entire room—and he pulled out the chair right beside me and sank into it, leaning back and regarding me.
“Morning,” I responded.
I noticed that he didn’t have a bag with him, nor was he holding a notebook or anything to write with. “You’re not gonna take notes?” I asked. Or, was he planning to conjure what he needed in the next few moments before class started up?
He winked and tapped his temple. “All right here.”
“You already know it. Of course. You’re the renowned necromancer, only here under duress, already exceptionally schooled and skilled.”
