Magic Secret (Half-Blood Academy #2) - Meg Xuemei X Page 0,2

cherishing me.

“Do you want to wait for me to undress you, lamb?” he asked.

Giddiness swelled in my chest.

“You’re staying?” I asked, my eyes bright.

“Where else would I go while you’re here?” he asked softly, desire making his eyes hooded. “I don’t mind helping you undress if you’ll let me, as I plan to bathe you and check your injuries.”

“I can get myself started,” I murmured, my face flaming under the weight of his smoldering gaze. I might burst into flame if he kept looking at me like that.

I shrugged off my tattered jacket, dropped it on the floor, and flashed him a sly smile to show him that I had my shit together.

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful,” he said.

He thought me beautiful even when I was half-covered in blood and dirt.

Just as I looked up at him in gratitude, my stomach grumbled. Damn, I hadn’t expected that to spoil the mood.

“You’re hungry, my lamb,” he said.

“I haven’t eaten since this morning,” I told him.

He frowned at me in concern. “Why not? Have you been fighting demons all this time?” A killing rage flared in his eyes. “I didn’t see other Dominion soldiers. Who let you fend off the demons alone? You were nearly killed.”

If he hadn’t arrived in time, I would’ve been either killed or maimed and dragged to Hell.

“It’s a long story,” I said. “Your cousin Pigston is the cause of all my misfortune.”

“Pigston?”

“Paxton, Pigston—same thing,” I hissed. “He didn’t allow me to have breakfast. He didn’t even let me sniff coffee, let alone grab a donut before he dragged me to the class on Olympian Glory. There was no glory in his mistreatment of me.”

Héctor narrowed his eyes, a dark storm forming on his handsome face.

“He dragged you?” he drawled.

My eyes brightened at his menacing tone.

Now was the time to drive a wedge between the demigods, since I’d just found one who wasn’t just smitten with me—he needed me.

Not many females—no, I was the single woman who could touch the death demigod and still breathe air into my lungs. Though his touch was death to others, it was deliciously addictive to me.

Because of the great pleasure touching me—and only me—could give him, it was in his best interest to be kind and to preserve me.

How cool was that?

I concealed a grin.

“He manhandled me as if I were a criminal and yanked me with him for over a mile while I was dizzy with hunger,” I said.

Rage coiled in his sapphire eyes.

“In addition, he forbade me to have lunch,” I said, my jaw tightening as I recalled the sea demigod’s cruelty toward me.

“How dare he!” Héctor snarled. “I’ll have a word with him.”

When a demigod said he would “have a word with” someone, he meant “inflict violence upon” that someone.

“He dared, despite your displeasure,” I said, fueling his anger. “Do you remember that dream we shared?”

“Yes, lamb,” he said. His hard expression softened at my mention of the erotic dream, his eyes growing more hooded as pure male lust thickened in them. “I remember every detail. I’ve been cherishing and replaying it in my mind.”

“That’s very thoughtful and romantic of you.” My heart fluttered, but my mission hadn’t been accomplished. I had more nasty things to say about Paxton. “Pigston barged into my bunk room uninvited while I was sleeping,” I said as I dropped my pants. Héctor’s eyes followed my moves. “He flooded my bed and thus hauled me out of the lovely dream we were having while I was still...on top of you.”

I’d lied a little. My friend Yelena had pulled me out of the dream, but there was no need to get all the details right.

Héctor pulled his lips back in a feral snarl. “That was why we didn’t finish our lovemaking. And I’ve been trying to get to you ever since.”

“How frustrating! It was all because Pigston interrupted us,” I said, as I dropped my sports bra on top of the pile of my dirty, bloodstained uniform.

I suddenly felt shy, but I pushed my shyness away. Héctor had seen me naked, and I looked the same as the dream version of me.

“Paxton always was a cold-hearted dick,” Héctor said, his heated gaze glued to my breasts. “I tolerated him only because I was the same way.”

“You’re different than him,” I cried in dismay. “You’re different, right, Héctor?”

If Héctor turned out to be cut from the same cloth as Paxton, what were my chances of changing my fate from violence and despair to something better?

A gentle glow softened