Failed by Him. Wanted by Him

Afternoon. I hid in a library corner. I weakly reviewed crappy spells.

Then, the comm-crystal in my pocket buzzed rapidly against my thigh twice.

I took it out. A secret thrill replaced my awful mood.

It was Shadow.

A new message popped up with a photo.

[My Light, ancient spell research is finally over today. I really crave your reward... Preferably you naked.]

My heart skipped a beat.

Even through the screen, I felt his intense, knee-weakening possessiveness.

I was about to reply with my usual dirty talk. Then my focus shifted from the glowing spellbook.

A bookshelf peeked out in the background.

A carved gargoyle wrapped in thorns sat on the corner.

My smile vanished. My blood ran cold.

That was Blackwood Academy. The signature bookshelf deep in the Restricted Section.

The only one in the entire magic world.

I froze completely. Mind blank.

You have got to be kidding me!

Ten minutes ago, I walked right past that shelf. I was checking a basic potions paper!

He is at Blackwood?

This mysterious lover worships me daily and desires my body fatally. He is in this building? Right next to me?!

Intense panic choked me like a cold snake.

What if he finds out? "Light" isn't a mysteriously charming witch. She is the worst Null in school.

What if he leaks our chats? Those extremely explicit, toe-curling, shameful late-night texts.

It would be social suicide.

The nobles already bully me. They would tear me apart!

The crystal vibrated wildly again.

Shadow grew anxious. I didn't reply instantly.

[Light? Are you looking?]

[Why aren't you talking? Was my request too much? I'm sorry.]

[Please, don't ignore me.]

His desperate, intense insecurity reeked through the screen.

I took a deep breath. I forced my shaking fingers to steady. I typed fast.

[Not mad, baby. Was busy just now. Are you still staying there?]

I hit send. I jerked my head up and scanned the central library.

Who is it? Who?

On the left long table, some guys in custom robes were judging girls.

In the right corner, the jerk who throws slugs in my cauldron slept.

Neither.

My eyes drifted to the front checkout desk.

Two professors stood there. Polar opposites.

On the left: Leo Vance. Young, handsome, the funny Transfiguration professor. He leaned against the desk, flashing his killer smile at passing girls.

On the right: Julian Thorne. Professor of Ancient Magic History.

Dressed in a flawless dark robe. Head down, grading parchments. Silver-rimmed glasses rested on his sharp nose.

He radiated pure, icy intimidation. Total untouchable vibes.

Campus gossip said he turned into a massive dragon on a full moon. Terrifying.

Was Shadow one of them?

I stared at Julian. Then immediately looked away. Nope. Not a chance.

Impossible.

The guy who begged for my attention online? The one who called me "Master"?

No way he was this walking nightmare of an ice-cold professor.

That left Leo. The guy parading around like a peacock, flirting with everyone.

Could it be him?

The crystal lit up.

[I just left. Light, I want to hear your voice. I want you. Can we connect tonight?]

Run.

That was my only thought.

I didn't dare ask his college or his name. Any extra question could expose my identity.

I shoved the damn Transfiguration guide into my bag. I didn't even cap the ink. I bolted from the library like a caught thief.

Back in my dorm, I leaned weakly against the door. I panted heavily.

My roommate stood before the mirror. She didn't even hold a wand. She used non-verbal spells to make three magic combs brush her blonde hair.

She glanced at me through the mirror and sneered.

I shivered.

Thank God we hadn't exposed our faces yet.

What if he faked this to mock me? To make a dramatic joke...

No. I can't just sit and wait.

Blackwood is a jungle. Exposure means ruin.

I must seize control!

I made a choice. I will strip his disguise before he finds me.

I marched to my bed. I pulled the curtains shut tight. I blocked my roommate's arrogant stare.

I threw myself on the bed. I lit up the crystal and opened Shadow's chat.

I frantically scrolled through a year of chat logs.

My thumb swiped fast.

I skipped the blushing late-night sweet talk. I skipped his crazy, obsessive photo requests. I swiped past our filthy late-night sexting.

He couldn't hide perfectly for 365 days.

There had to be a real-world clue. Something recognizable disguised as casual chat.

Page after page.

I swiped to a day last month. I stopped dead.

My breath hitched. My heart started pounding.

I stared at a photo he casually sent for my opinion. My blood boiled.

Found it.