Chapter 4

‘He kissed my hand,’ Layla said, holding the back of her hand to her face, imagining Alaric’s soft lips on her skin.

‘He kissed my hand!’ She squeezed her lips together, trying to hold back a squeal as she blushed.

‘It means nothing! It means nothing.’ She pressed her hands against her cheeks and scolded herself. ‘He’s just nice. Really nice. He’s just taken pity on a poor human girl.’

She took a deep breath and calmed herself down. Deluding herself into thinking he was the slightest bit interested in her was stupid. He was going to be her teacher; surely there were rules about crushing on a teacher even in a magical world.

Layla sighed, taking off her hoodie and letting her silver hair free. Terra had insisted she kept her hair for the reason that she wasn’t ready to cause commotion among the students who would see her. Layla couldn’t understand why her hair was such a big deal.

She took her box and opened it. There was nothing much in it, just a few worn-out clothes and other personal belongings. Jonas had made sure his workers had almost nothing to their name.

Alaric said the uniforms are in the wardrobe, right?’ She stood up, walked to the brown, wooden wardrobe, and opened it. Three pairs of blue and white uniforms were hung on hangers beside three pairs of sport vests. A pair of black shoes and white sneakers were at the bottom.

‘Are all these for me? Wow.’ She took one of the school uniforms and admired it.

It was beautiful and looked more expensive than all the clothes she had seen in her life.

The blazer was blue, and the school badge was on the breast pocket. The collar was the same dark blue plaid fabric that the high-waisted pleated skirt had. The long sleeved button-up shirt was as white as the pairs of thigh-length socks hanging with it and had a black bow.

“This isn’t a dream.” She mumbled, keeping the uniform to the rack and returning to her bed. She flopped on it like a starfish and stared at the ceiling.

“I can’t believe it. I’m going to start a magical school.” She let out a shaky breath, and her lip curled into a silly smile. She grabbed her pillow, pressed it on her face, and let out a crazy giggle, flaring her legs in the air.

‘A magical school. Me! An ordinary girl!’ Her excitement and giggle came to an abrupt halt, and she pulled the pillow off her face. A large lump formed in her throat.

An ordinary girl. She was going to be an ordinary girl in a school full of magic creatures. What was she thinking when she accepted Alaric’s offer? She was too desperate to get out of Jonas’ house to think about the gravity of her decision. She had no magic; she was sure of it. The only thing odd about her was her hair and eye colour. Could she include her dream of Alaric and the other mystery man? Even if she did, that wasn’t enough evidence to show she had magic.

Alaric said he was sure she had magical attributes, but what if he was wrong? What if she didn’t have any? Would they send her back to Jonas? Or toss her back into the human world like trash? If they did, what was she going to do? Find a new job? Where would she stay? She didn’t have money to rent a house?

‘Don’t think about the bad things. Everything is going to be fine!’ Layla shook her head, clearing the negative thoughts. She needed to stay positive, or she would lose her head from worry. She rolled on her side, and her gaze fell on the book and tray on the bedside table. She picked the former and read the name.

‘First time in a new world. A simple introductory guide for a human in the Supernatural world.’

“Interesting,” she mumbled, flipping open the first page, and she began to read.

~

‘Why is everyone staring at me?’ Layla thought as she made her way with the other students to the auditorium, where the orientation was to take place.

She smoothed the invisible creases on her school uniform, checking herself for the umpteenth time in five minutes to see if there was something wrong with how she dressed. She was sure there was nothing; she wore the uniform like everybody else.

Then why were they staring at her like she was repulsive or something?

She had woken up optimistic. Her usual nightmares hadn’t come, and she had the most blissful sleep she had had in a while. It was her sign that the day was going to be a great one.

Until she stepped out of her room. The moment she joined the crowd, a multitude of eyes tailed after her. She thought she was imagining the looks, but when a student accidentally bumped into her and gave her a sneer instead of an apology, it was obvious it wasn’t in her head.

They were glaring at her, looking at her from the bridge of their noses like she was filth, mumbling between themselves. A nagging feeling told her she was the centre of their discussion. Why? Was it because she was human? She let out a shaky breath as the air around her became too heavy for her to breathe.

She bowed her head, avoiding the penetrating gaze around her as she rushed into the auditorium.

A sudden, invisible force slammed into her, knocking the wind out of her chest, and she gasped. The room seemed to spin, and she stumbled back, and her back slammed into a hard chest. She stiffened, a powerful presence wrapped around her, mixed with delightful heat and a wonder scent of roasted chestnuts, wild and untamed, sending electricity through her veins. Her body quivered with desire, her eyes fluttered shut, and a small, relaxed sigh left her lip.

“Mate,” a man growled behind her, and she gasped. The world seemed to stop around them. She knew that gruff, commanding voice. It was the second man in her dreams. He was behind her.

“Zayne.” Layla spun around to face him and whispered his name, somehow knowing it the same way she knew Alaric’s.

He was handsome in an untamed, roughish kind of way. And he was huge. Her head barely reached his shoulders, and his well-defined muscles couldn’t be hidden by the school’s uniform. Golden brown skin that was a few shades lighter than his dark brown hair.

He leaned his face closer to hers; his nose sniffed the air around her and twitched. She just stared at him, her wide eyes and her heart pounding so loudly that she feared he could hear it.

“You’re my mate,” he growled, his green eyes narrowed, and he stared intently at her, scoping her from her head to her toe.

‘Mate? What was that?’ Layla wanted to ask, but her lips refused to move. She didn’t know what it was, but she knew it was something more important than she could imagine.

Zayne stood up straight, his face crinkling with disgust like the way the other students stared at her, but it didn’t hurt her as much as the others.

“I do not accept you as my mate.” He hissed and trudged away from her; the crowd parted for him to pass like he was a king.

A sharp stabbing pain ripped through her chest, and she gasped, staggering back and clutching where her heart was. It was like Zayne had dug his hand into her chest, ripped it out, and left her to writhe in pain.

Agony raced through every bit of her body, and she bit her lips, holding back her scream. She couldn’t scream in front of everyone, not when they were sneering and laughing at her.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stumbled to the seats allocated for new students. She crashed into one of the chairs at the back and end of the row and bowed her head.

She wiped her face, cleaning up the tears that had made their way down her cheeks. What was wrong with her? What did Zayne do to her? Why did she feel an aching feeling of rejection and disgrace inside her?