Cruel Magic (Royals of Villain Academy #1)(66)

He stopped in front of me and peered down at me for just long enough that I wanted to squirm.

“I’ll give you a reprieve in light of your current circumstances and your history,” he said, low and cutting. “But the next time I call on your attendance, it’ll be an order, not a request. You’re not baron yet, and you don’t defy the barons you have. Are we clear, Miss Bloodstone?”

Provoking him further didn’t seem like the wisest idea, at least not if I ever wanted to use my feet again.

“I understand,” I said. And I did. I understood that he was the biggest asshole of them all.

“Good.” He snapped his fingers, and the magic holding me released. “Run along then.”

The breeze chilled the sweat that had formed on the back of my neck as I hurried the rest of the way to Killbrook Hall. Professor Banefield was waiting for me on the landing outside the staff residences.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said quickly, my heart still thumping double-time. “I—I got a little delayed.”

“It’s all right,” he said, motioning me back down the stairs. “It just means I’ll explain what I have planned for today on the way over. I’ve arranged a private session for you with Professor Razeden.”

My feet nearly tripped over each other. “For Desensitization?”

Banefield nodded. “I understand your first session was rather traumatic, and I know you’ve been under a lot of stress with your approaching assessment. It hardly seemed out of line to allow you a chance to navigate your fears without an audience. Professor Razeden will be able to give his full attention to guiding you through.”

I should have been grateful. It would be a real help to get a handle on the whole desensitization process without Jude and whoever else looking over my shoulder. But the thought of facing that murder scene all over again, especially right after my clash with Baron Nightwood, made me want to vomit.

I just had to get through it. That was the whole point—learning how to make it through. With every fear I found the tools to withstand, there’d be one fewer way for the scions to hurt me.

Baron Nightwood had already departed from the green. I breathed slow and steady as we came up to the tower that bore the same name, working to calm my nerves.

No one was going to see this except my mentor and the professor who must have seen all kinds of fears over the years. There was nothing to be self-conscious about. And at least this time I knew what to expect. It wouldn’t be real. Nothing could hurt my parents ever again.

Not even me.

Professor Razeden met us in the room with the benches outside the main chamber. He dipped his head to me in greeting. “Miss Bloodstone. I’m glad we’ll have the opportunity to develop your baseline coping skills in a more intensive fashion.”

He didn’t look all that glad, but I wasn’t sure that gaunt face was capable of looking really happy. “Okay,” I said. “I’d like to cope better next time too.”

“I want you to listen to my voice now,” he said as he led us into the chamber. His dry, even tone echoed the room. “Focus on it, and keep listening for it after the session begins. I’ll walk you through the steps to shutting down your fear. If you start to get overwhelmed, go still and avoid interacting with your surroundings until you have a plan of action. Shall we begin?”

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. If we were doing this, better to get it over with ASAP.

My shoes rapped against the glossy tiles as I walked into the center of the chamber. Razeden took his spot near the door, Banefield standing a little awkwardly on the other side of it. Maybe it’d help him understand where I was coming from better when he got a glimpse of how horrible my “rescue” had really been.

“Begin,” Professor Razeden said, and the light went out.

A glow spread out around me. I braced myself, but… it wasn’t the shiny white of my parents’ kitchen. The room seemed to have expanded into a vast space lit by yellowish panels overhead. Four figures stepped into the light in a ring around me, and my stomach flipped over.

I was in the large gym in the Stormhurst Building where I’d had my first assessment. But it wasn’t the professors who’d conducted the test before who surrounded me. It was the scions.

“Dance,” Malcolm said with a vicious smile, and snapped his fingers the way his father had. My legs leapt up beneath me, springing this way and that in a ridiculous cavorting. They spun me toward Jude.

The other guy’s smirk looked even sharper than usual under his dark copper hair. He raised his hands, and a searing heat shot up over me, an illusion that set my nerves screaming as if they’d actually been set on fire. A cry broke from my mouth.

Declan’s voice rang out behind me. “You know you’re not good enough. Stop kidding yourself, Rory. I can see every thought in your head. You’re hanging on by a thread. Any second it’s going to snap, and we’ll see exactly how weak you really are.”

My dance was more like a flailing now. Tears welled in my eyes at the burn still racing under my skin. I stumbled around toward Connar, whose face was as hard as stone. He stomped on the ground, and a metal disc as high as his waist rose up, gouging the floor with its razor edges as it screeched toward me.

Through the blur of pain and panic, I managed to make out Professor Razeden’s voice. “You can do this, Miss Bloodstone. It’s their power that frightens you, but you have power too. Summon your own magic to push theirs back.”