CHAPTER 139: SLIGHT SPELL

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Chapter 139

~Spring’s POV~

Storm stood between us. Though his face was calm, his jaw was locked tight. He hadn’t said a word. But I saw the faint red imprint on his knuckles.

Lyon backed away, gripping his now-throbbing wrist, eyes burning holes into Storm.

Storm didn’t bother looking at him. Instead, his hand reached for mine.

"You good?" he asked softly.

"Perfect," I said, sliding my hand into his with no hesitation.

The classroom was still dead silent, but I could already hear the shift. No one dared whisper about cheats or mates.

They all had fear and awe written in their faces, but even I knew soon this might not last, not until Storm was certain his parent would listen.

I walked to my seat beside Storm, hand still in his, and didn’t even look back.

Smiling at my mates, I slid into the seat beside Storm, my fingers still loosely intertwined with his. He gave my hand a slight squeeze before letting go, just as the classroom door opened.

The teacher walked in—Professor Mira, tall and regal, with sharp brows and sharper heels that clicked against the marble floor like a countdown.

Her eyes swept across the room once before she set her books on the table.

"Good morning, Class 3A."

"Good morning, Professor Mira," we chorused, most of the class still stiff with tension from earlier.

She looked directly at Lyon for a moment, then her gaze shifted over to Storm and finally settled on me.

Her expression gave nothing away, though the faint twitch at the corner of her mouth hinted she’d heard or at least sensed the earlier confrontation.

"I hope everyone’s well-rested," she began, then clapped her hands once. "Because I bring news that concerns your senior year."

A murmur rippled through the class. Any mention of senior year typically meant either a brutal assignment... or an escape from school.

"As part of our curriculum this term," Professor Mira continued, "we’ll be holding a field trip. A three-day academic retreat in the outer ridges—specifically, the Havenmoor Conservation Grounds."

Several students perked up immediately.

She smirked at the reactions. "Yes, you’ll have permission to leave campus. Yes, it’ll involve real-world studies. And yes, it will count toward your term assessment. But it is still a school-sanctioned event, so don’t expect to slack off."

"Will we be graded individually?" a girl from the front asked.

"Partly," the professor answered. "Group tasks and a short reflective project are due the week after. I advise you to pack wisely. Physical endurance will be necessary—Havenmoor isn’t a walk in the park."

Great. A literal field trip.

I leaned slightly into Storm’s side. "You don’t particularly look pleased. Why’s that?"

He smirked faintly. "Nothing. I’m just thinking of how to use this chance to do something about our relationship."

My brows shot up, and Storm chuckled at my expression.

"Relax. Besides, the one person you should be asking is none other than Jace."

"Jace?"

"Yeah, Jace’s been talking about ditching school for a hike since last year. This’ll be his dream."

I chuckled. Of course.

Class resumed with a few scribbled notes and a lot of whispering. By the time the bell rang for the next period, everyone scattered like the walls were closing in. A few students still glanced my way—some respectful, others wary—but none dared approach.

I gathered my books quietly and began to make my way toward the exit when a shadow fell over me at the doorway.

I glanced up to see Tyrion looking at me with those beady eyes of his.

He leaned one shoulder against the doorframe like he’d been waiting there the whole time.

"Going somewhere?" he asked, his lips curved into that familiar half-smile that always spelt trouble... or temptation.

I blinked, surprised by how fast he got there. "Next class. Chemistry."

He straightened and took a step closer. His tall frame towered just a bit too comfortably over me, and I had to tilt my chin to meet his eyes.

"Skip it," he said casually. "Come with me instead."

My brow rose. "And what exactly are we doing?"

He smirked. "Something more interesting than chemical equations."

"No, we can’t skip class. It’s not gonna look good on my record if I skip clas just the very next day after my promotion. So no."

"Spring I..."

I held up my palm, shaking my head. "You of all people should know this."

Tyrion quickly grabbed my hand and pulled me closer. "Hey, hey, hey. I know that. I understand. It was wrong of me. I just..."

Tyrion exhaled, looking away briefly as his hair fell over his face, but there was something in his eyes, something that screamed hurt.

Did I hurt Tyrion?

My attention was drawn to the softness in his eyes, so that when he finally focused on me, I was lost in it.

I could not explain what had gone wrong with me since yesterday when Rose came.

"Spring?"

My mind zoned out on my name being called, and I kept staring at Tyrion.

"Spring? Spring?"

Until...

"Damn it." I heard Tyrion curse under his breath, and then the next second, warm lips pressed against mine softly in a way that stole my breath away, and sparkles flashed before my eyes.

Although I had kissed Tyrion once and kissed Storm more, kissing Tyrion felt like I had done it many times.

His lips were soft and warm as his tongue gently nudged my lip, prying into my mouth.

The kiss wasn’t long or deep. But the fire it lit in my chest didn’t care for subtlety.

I kissed him back, letting the feelings emanating from being with him anchor me to this moment.

Tyrion pulled back slowly, his face still close enough that I could see the slight tremble in his lashes. His eyes, usually bold and unreadable, held a flicker of something raw.

Regret? Hope? Fear?

I didn’t know. I could barely breathe.

I blinked once. Twice.

Then, before I could fully process what just happened, a voice rang out behind us.

"When you two are done smooching by the doorway," Kael called lazily, "you can go find a room."

My cheeks flamed instantly. Tyrion didn’t flinch—he just chuckled under his breath and held my hand tighter.

"Sorry," he murmured sincerely now. "You zoned out. And I didn’t mean to do that without your permission."

I didn’t say anything; I couldn’t. My mouth was still tingling.

He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand gently. "I didn’t mean to insinuate anything earlier. I just... I couldn’t wait."

His eyes held mine, and sure enough, this time. "But I will. I promise, Spring. I’ll wait until you’re ready. After school, though... I want to take you somewhere."

My heart did that crazy jump again.

"Okay," I finally found my voice.

He smiled and released my hand as if it were sacred. "See you after chemistry, my little lab mate."

With a wink, Tyrion turned and strolled down the hall like he hadn’t just wrecked my entire nervous system.

Kael, now leaning against a locker like a satisfied spectator, raised a brow at me as I walked past him. "Careful. You’re glowing."

"I am not," I muttered, shoving his shoulder as I passed.

"Not blushing either, right?"

I ignored him and quickened my pace, my heart beating out the formula for molecular combustion inside my chest.

What the hell was happening to me?

First Eryx, then Rose, and now Tyrion had my emotions dancing on wires I didn’t remember setting up.

Maybe I did need chemistry after all—because something was definitely reacting inside me.

And it felt like my mate had just lit the match.

"Did that mean that the others will, too?"

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~Rose’s POV~

Lying stomach-down on my bed, I twirled the ends of my hair around one finger as I pressed the phone to my ear with the other. My legs swung lazily behind me as I smiled into the screen.

"She inhaled it. I made sure of it," I whispered with a victorious grin.

From the other end of the video call, Anastasia—my real mother—laughed lightly, her eyes gleaming like the queen she thought she was. "Good girl. And how did she react?"

I propped myself up on my elbows, the silk of my rose-pink bedsheets wrinkling beneath me.

"Exactly as we wanted. Jealousy. Pettiness. She was rude and defensive, especially around the boys. I even hugged Eryx and pecked him on the cheek... and oh, Mum, you should’ve seen her face. If daggers could fly, I’d be in the grave."

Anastasia’s laugh deepened. "That perfume is more than a simple trigger. It taps into the mind’s emotional frequencies. That girl’s going to lose her sense of restraint around males soon enough. Dreamy eyes, loose tongue, irrational behaviour."

My grin widened. "And then she’ll look like a complete slut in front of everyone."

"Exactly," Anastasia said, her tone hardening with delight. "Your father only needs a reason—one confirmed report of misconduct, and he’ll disown her without hesitation. You just have to make sure those girls, her schoolmates, play their part."

I nodded. My heart fluttered with malicious anticipation. "Yes, Mother."

"But be careful," she warned. "Don’t overplay your hand."

"I won’t," I promised.

Knock. Knock.