Chapter Ten

As soon as the professor dismissed us from class, I stalked out of there. Starting off the day being late kicked off a visit to the headmistress, and the rest swallowed me like quicksand. I found the classes interesting, the ones I'd actually made it to. My little visit with the head of the school had me miss the first three classes and then she rushed me to catch the last five minutes of the fourth. I'd even skipped lunch somewhere in the process.

I had so much to learn. The other students nodded and raised their hands to answer questions about shifter defense and spells against our kind and in the last class, the professor glossed over events in shifter history, in his words, that we all knew about already.

I didn't. Had no fucking clue where the first shifter came from or how different types of shifters emerged. He had chuckled along with my fellow students, recalling the infamous dragon shifter named Boris and whatever trouble he had caused. I made furious notes. I would have to bust my ass just to catch up with what I was supposed to know before even trying to study the new material. Or, do it both at the same time.

I wondered why my parents hadn't told me any of this. The way the other students spoke, shifter tales had been their bedtime stories.

My parents went about their business as though they were human. My life and growing up had never revolved around being a shifter, as if it was only a minor detail. And no one mentioned any shifters that had any ability beyond taking on another form.

Specifically, there were no tales about a shifter who could make fire.

My stomach tensed as the pressure in my chest built. The stress of the day plus the heavy knowledge of all I had to accomplish weighed down on me, pressing into my sternum.

I dropped my bag and books in my room and headed back to the roof for some air. If there was a forest around, I would've lost myself there, but the roof was my option for the time being.

Once the elevator doors opened, I stepped out and paced around for a few minutes, grumbling, fussing, and complaining. If I let it all out, there was a chance everything would stop strangling my mind. Considering this was the place everyone must come for some outdoor recreation, I was a little surprised to find it empty, but grateful.

I could do this. Make a plan. Get to work. Nose to the grindstone. I was a good student and a proficient reader. Yeah. I could do this.

While pacing, I shook my arms, trying to free myself from the building restraints of pressure. I tugged at my collar as I grew warmer by the second despite the sun dipping past the horizon and giving way to a much cooler night.

My insides shook. I shut my eyes, fighting against the vibrations. Shit. This was how I felt right before the fire. Right before my locker was set ablaze.

Gods, it was me. I'd had my doubts. After all, it was ludicrous to think I could spontaneously set fire to something. I couldn't even shift. Wouldn't creating fire be more of a witch thing anyway?

The sensations in my torso veined out to my arms and hands. My palms singed with rising heat as I bent over at the waist. The edges of my vision turned to ink. My heart pounded in hard lub-glubs, trying to keep up with this overwhelming power.

Was it power to be able to set fire to things or a curse?

I couldn't decide.

My fingers prickled. I crouched, wrapping my arms around my knees, trying to contain the explosion. That's how all of this felt, like I would combust at any moment.

"Minx?" Someone called my name, but they were so far away.

"Mmm," I forced out the sound.

Wait a minute. I knew that voice. It was Grim.

"Sweetheart, what's wrong?" I heard his words but dismissed them. I knew he had a girlfriend or a mate already. Knew it was too good to be true. Too easy. Too fast.

Gods, I was a fool.

Except all of my inner dialogue hushed once he put his arm around my back and pulled me against his body. My eyes were still closed, but I knew it was him. He smelled like caramel and dark chocolate, sweet and decadent but with a hint of bitterness. Someone in his life had done him wrong.

Did that mean he had called me sweetheart?

I didn't even care. I leaned into his chest and could've sworn he was purring, except wolves didn't purr. "That's it. Deep breaths. You and me, breathing the same. Listen to my heartbeat. Give it to to me, Minx. Give me everything." He went on, talking about how he and the others went to get me for dinner but I wasn't there. They looked everywhere before splitting up to check other places. He even went over the dinner menu and how he didn't really like lasagna but would take two pieces of the amaretto cheesecake to make up for it.

Second by second, the grip on me slipped away. His voice, bass and silken, skimmed over my skin, easing the flare-ups along its path. "There you go. Open those beautiful eyes."

His presence was like a drug. I'd locked myself in a cage of stress and flames until he rushed in and slowly opened the door, coaxing me out. The relief saturated my senses, and my shoulders relaxed. I let out a long sigh and opened my eyes to see a dark sky above me—stars twinkled, and the moon glowed. The world hadn't stopped. Could've fooled me.

I raised my head to meet Grim's gaze. Despite his words, I expected some kind of ridicule, even mockery. Instead, his deep-brown eyes searched mine while he held me close. "Hey," I managed to croak out. "You saved me."

He rumbled a bit—straight from his chest. "You scared me, M-Minx."

I cocked my head, thinking that he was about to say another word that started with an M. The hairs on the back of my head rose while goose bumps filled the skin on my arms and spanned my chest. A new sensation unfurled in my belly and landed in my core.

Yes, Grim had drawn me out of myself and my panic attack, but there was more.

His touch. The feel of his skin. The words he spoke. The way his voice radiated inside me, hotter than any fire I could've conjured.

I ached for this male.

Before I thought twice about it, I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his. He gasped and stiffened next to me. Then he softened. Moaned. Growled so possessively that I was encouraged to press on. I licked the bottom of his lips and he opened his mouth. I whimpered, craving so much more but also knowing we were on a public roof—and there were towering buildings all around us–with windows.

And I'd just met him.

Fuck. My brain stopped me just shy of reaching for the hem of his shirt. I pulled back with the pinch of logic I had left.

What had I done? "I–I'm sorry, Grim. I acted on impulse. You were so sweet, and your smell and…shit, I'm sorry."

He fell back on the ground, landing on his butt. Another low growl emanated from his chest. My belly swirled at the sound. There really was shifter blood in me somewhere because Grim growling had me envisioning stripping his clothes off and doing a whole hell of a lot more than kissing. "Female, don't you ever apologize to me for that. One more minute of those lips and I would've wanted to take you to my room and never let you out."

I sucked in a breath. "Really? I…haven't done that before."

"Kissed someone? You're telling me that I got to share your first kiss with you?" He scooted closer and by the waist, pulled me back into his lap. Once again, every muscle in my body relaxed. Now, if I could just put him in my pocket, I'd never have to worry about setting the world on fire again.

"Yes. Weirdo, right?" I giggled, trying to make my naivete less serious.

"No," he said, pushing some of my hair out of my face. "I'm honored. Truly. Can I kiss you this time?"

"Yes."