Chapter Eight

The rest of the day went more or less according to plan. It was hard to fuck up first-day expectations. By the time I got home, I was ready to pass out. Too many lazy summer days washed away how exhausting running around a classroom all day working with students got. Eventually, the routine would return.

Charlie’s meows for affection kept me alert as I stepped into my house. He sat on the end table beside the door, stretching as far as he could to rub his head against my hip while keeping his paws pressed to the very edge of the table’s top. I picked him up, cuddling him close to my chest. Charlie purred, completely content while I filled the food bowls, ensuring his whiny sister Carlie wouldn’t starve to death. She strutted into the kitchen, lapping down big bites of dry food.

“Wow, you must be hungry.”

For a second, I almost confused the frustration flooding my mind for hers. Carlie loathed dry food. It was merely sustenance to tide her over until the wet arrived. This wasn’t her emotional reaction. Sure, my telepathy had evolved, but not enough to glean my cat’s thoughts, thankfully.

Charlie made biscuits, tugging at the fabric of my shirt and keeping me fully planted in the kitchen of my home while my mind synced to Milo’s. I couldn’t see him or hear him, only feel the stress going through him as he worked a case. Setting Charlie on the floor, I ignored his meows of utter betrayal and reached out to Milo, listening more intently.

This frustration didn’t come from work. Something had him in knots, similar to how he’d felt this morning before my lesson. Had the results left him upset? Did he see some unknown future I’d fucked up? Was it unrelated?

I could ponder all day and night, or I could do the adult thing and ask.

“ Milo— ” I clamped my jaw.

There was an ache in the back of my head, almost like my magic was tugging on my hair, pulling me in strange directions to muffled thoughts so soft they were like whispers. There was no hint of sadness, not that I detected. Still, this individual’s inner voice spoke in a hush, like they didn’t want to be heard. Bizarre, hauntingly synchronized to my frequency, but somehow wrong.

I shook it off, focusing on Milo’s mind. The last thing I needed was for my telepathy to randomly pick up on people’s minds outside my range. Balancing my connection to Milo was enough work, keeping up with my students and the staff at Gemini on a daily basis was enough, enduring my noisy neighbors’ thoughts was enough. I didn’t need more growth in my branch magic.

My telepathy faltered, and I remained in my own mind yet again, so I decided to use this freeing break to be productive. While I worked on tweaking lessons around the notes I’d taken for my homeroom coven, I sorted through my curriculum scaffolding content for the new first-year students in my general history course. This batch struggled a lot with the introduction diagnostic I gave. The test at the end of the week would determine just how much I needed to backtrack my lessons in order to cover material they’d missed before attending Gemini Academy.

Milo’s thoughts trickled into the back of my head as I worked. Not surface thoughts but a feeling of dread, one reminiscent of the trepidation that rose in his mind before he arrived during my lesson.

“ You okay? ”

Nothing. Scratchy static and chords of stress. The melody played above his words, above the link I attempted. His thoughts were scattered, and as such, his image remained fuzzy in the corner of my eye. So close I could practically touch him, but in actuality, he was halfway across the city meeting with witches. Kraken Guild, I think?

I blinked away his image and continued working. Retrieving my phone, I shot him a text. Before the growth in my telepathy, we were pros at playing texting tag.

Nothing.

Not even read.

The floating bubbles of his reply went on forever. I stared at their rhythmic dance the same way Charlie became entranced by the strum of my fingers when playing. Must be writing quite the essay. Or a crude joke with lots of twists and turns.

Wow. See you soon? He didn’t even offer up a single sexy emoji for me to overthink the intention. No flirty banter. No flurry follow-up with a dozen tangents. Just yeah…

I swallowed hard, letting the trepidation clinging to Milo’s mind sit in my chest, weighing heavy on my lungs. Feeling stressed for absolutely no reason of my own was somewhat comforting in a terrible, standard routine kind of way. I just hated how this stress came from Milo. He’d been a bubble of pure joy for months that I’d forgotten his thoughts could even gravitate toward sadness. And sure, I might’ve occasionally delighted in bursting that bubble over the summer, but I didn’t like feeling actual stress wafting off him in waves. Tidal waves that distracted even my most basic thought processes.

Tossing my laptop on the other side of the couch, I decided work would be there in the morning.

Charlie stared at the abandoned laptop, then at me.

“I could watch TV?” But the only show I wanted to watch was one Milo insisted we binge together. Not that we ever finished more than two episodes at a time when work came crashing into our evenings. “Chores? I should actually clean.”

Charlie cocked his head, ears twitching.

“Yeah, fuck that.” I stood and lit a smoke to calm my nerves. Each inhale smothered the emotional tether linking to Milo and the little pang of hunger in my stomach. “That’s it!”

I had a plan for distraction and productivity. Milo would be hungry after work. And he’d stocked my fridge with tons of stuff—his insistent way of reminding me the best meals came from dishes cooked for oneself. Sounded like a load of garbage to me. The best meals came from trained professionals and the satisfaction of knowing I didn’t have to do the dishes afterward. But I’d make something for Milo when he swung by.

“How hard can it be?” I grabbed a little of this and a little of that from the fridge. Milo always just threw things together, and I’d seen him cobble up delicious meals out of the most random ingredients.

Charlie stared at me, judgment in the way his tail swatted.

“I’ve got this. Learned through osmosis.”

He swaggered away, likely annoyed he’d get zero affection as I ran around the kitchen preparing an awesome dish. Milo was hungry, stressed, tired. The least I could do was offer him something when he got home.

I started chopping veggies and tossing seasoning on the meat. While I hadn’t decided exactly what I’d make just yet, all of Milo’s meals began with prepping the supplies. This was actually pretty easy.

I had literally no idea what I was doing. One second, I was searching my memories for the many meals Milo had strung together while making casual chitchat, and the next, I was stirring three pans of food. When did I add a third pot to the stove?

“Not good, not good, not good.” The kitchen was smokey, and the meat had burned in the singular minute I turned to focus on the sauce. “It’s like grilled, though.”

I turned to Carlie, who sat on a countertop, eyeing the human food.

“Wanna try?” I sawed a knife back and forth until I managed to carve off a small piece for her.

Carlie turned up her nose to the dish I’d charred. She never turned down human food.

“Well, fuck.”

My front door swung open, and Milo swaggered inside, takeout in hand and a flirty smile on his face. “ Thank God I planned ahead because neither of us needs food poisoning from this somehow overcooked and undercooked meal. ”

He then searched his mind for a synonym for the word meal that also meant inedible because, apparently, I couldn’t fucking cook.

“If you knew I was going to screw this up, you could’ve texted me. Saved me the effort.”

“Thought today was about learning from failures?” Milo laughed.

“Ha,” I croaked.

“Besides, for every dish you ruin, you’re one step closer to a future where I get breakfast in bed. I’m talking waffles, poached eggs, crispy bacon, and a thick sausage.” He winked.

Milo maintained a carefree smile and even had positive surface thoughts, which might’ve manipulated me into believing everything was okay in the past, but I’d felt the stress weighing on him. I’d plucked at the strings, carrying it close to my heart. There was no way I could ignore it, ignore him.

“Why were you so concerned?”

“Huh?” Milo had a perplexed expression, feigning ignorance of my question as the same dread that’d followed him all day continued swirling beneath his surface thoughts.

Granted, he did well to hide it, but our minds were too close to hide these feelings.

“I thought maybe you were worried about your acolyte not showing up, and somehow that’d ruin my lesson. But you both showed, and everything moved forward as planned. Then I figured you dropping in was what worried you—because, you know, I explicitly told you not to—but that isn’t it.”

“You didn’t want me there?” Milo twisted his lips, resisting his trademark minxy grin. “Completely forgot about that.”

“Liar.” I pouted. “Did you predict Kenzo’s outcome? I assure you, that’s not the worst thing that kid’s done. Hell, it’s not even in the top ten worst outcomes I’ve had during a lesson.”

“That says a lot about your teaching method, Mr. Frost.”

“Oh, fuck off.” I paused as Milo sent me salacious images of things he could fuck. Burying my arousal, I continued. “Look, I recognized the spike of insecurity in your thoughts when you got to the academy. Same spike that hit when you walked through my door. Same spike you’re currently repressing so I don’t notice. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Milo strummed his fingers against the counter, eyeing the takeout while wondering if he stuffed his mouth with food, it’d take his mind off whatever bothered him.

“Tell me what’s wrong.” I rested my hand over his, settling the shaky motion. “Or… Is this something you can’t tell me? For reasons? Work? Future? Both?”

“No, it’s not privileged.” Milo sighed. “I just really wanted to save this conversation for after dinner. Not sure you’ll have much of an appetite once I tell you. Actually, I’d prefer holding off on this conversation for as long as possible. Bury it. Ignore it. I just wanted you to have a good first day. Well, first week would’ve been nicer. First month, even better. But that’s not the case. It’s gonna be affecting your students soon, and the last thing I want is for you caught off guard so—”

“What’s this got to do with my kids?”

Milo grimaced. It looked as unnatural on him as a smile did on me. “That’s the thing. I don’t exactly know.”

My heart pounded. “A vision? Void vision?”

Could something like that be happening again? Had I merely delayed the inevitable? Was my homeroom coven cursed? I struggled to take a deep breath.

“Not a vision, void or otherwise. In fact, this is sort of outside my magical purview.”

“What?” My chest tightened. Milo’s thoughts rattled against my own swelling fears and concerns. Had I taken on the full force of dread he carried with him all day? It was awful. I couldn’t focus or think or move.

“Theodore Whitlock’s trial is being announced soon,” Milo said.

My stomach sank, nearly dropping me to the floor. “The warlock incursion on Gemini Academy.”

“Each of the warlocks involved will be having their day in court soon, and as you know, trials are highly classified. Especially one that’ll be dragging Whitlock Industries through the mud.”

Courthouses, law firms, the companies they outsourced—Hell, even those employed were cloaked in powerful warding magics. The kind of stuff that made the Tranquil Orbits gimmick look cheap.

“I have no idea how things will turn out, but I suspect there will be lots of feelings, reactions your students have.”

“Am I going to be approached?”

Milo shrugged. “No idea. That’s sort of been what’s weighed on me today.”

Normally, Enchanter Evergreen didn’t allow himself to become too attached to a case that required legal action. Once he’d passed it onto law enforcement, he released the hold it had on him. He knew how to compartmentalize what he could and couldn’t control, something I never learned and doubted I ever would. With trials, the state and the nation did their best to keep up with magic and technology, preventing either from interfering. I had no clue one way or the other how effective their methods were. All I knew was Milo had glimpsed nothing of this and couldn’t give me the answers I craved. How would this turn out? Would my students be okay? Would I?

“I only found out thanks to a friend who passed along the info. It’ll be hitting the news cycle soon, and they thought I’d want a heads-up. And thought you deserved a heads-up, too. I’m not sure how hard it’ll hit your kids, if they’ll be called on, or what’s going to happen. The whole mess is unknown. I hate it.”

Milo glanced at the faint scar lining my neck, a reminder of what happened when he struggled against a current of unknown futures, a reminder that the best one he’d predicted nearly killed me. Anything beyond a perfect outcome haunted Milo, even when he repressed it with a smile.

“I don’t see it that way.” I slid my hands up Milo’s arms; the goosebumps hit me almost as hard as they did him. “Every time I see this scar, every time I’m reminded of that day, I remember it was when I finally let go of my grief. It had swallowed me whole for years, all-consuming and immobilizing. Every time I see this scar, I am reminded how I finally allowed myself to be loved by someone far too perfect for me, yet blessed that he sees something worthy in me.”

Milo’s eyes teared up. His mouth went dry.

“ Have I left you speechless? ” I linked our minds.

He rolled his eyes up, letting the emotional state fade before shooting me a minxy grin. “You are worthy, Dorian.”

Milo moved closer, wrapping his arms around me and holding me in a tight hug, then his hands went a bit further, cupping my butt and squeezing. “And honestly, with an ass like that, how could I not love you?”

“You’re insufferable. Can you take nothing seriously?”

“I think you’ve got a serious, stern face enough for the two of us.”

“Hell, record shows I had enough for the three of us. How I ever ended up in bed with two annoying goofballs is beyond me.”

“It’s that good dick.”

I shoved him away, hand pressed to his smiling face. “We were having a moment, and you made it crass.”

Milo zipped his lips, and we stood silently, a few inches apart but thoughts colliding, intertwined on every sexual experience we’d explored with one another. His beautiful mind and body silenced the world, and the burden of stress weighing on him vanished and became almost instantly replaced by a boner.

“I suppose it can’t be helped.” I kissed him, but he turned his head, only allowing my lips to hit his cheek.

“Wouldn’t wanna be too crass.”

“You’re the worst.” I yanked him by the back of his head, turning it toward me and kissing him again.

Leading with my tongue, I kept him quiet, which only worked to silence his snarky comments aloud, not the ones playfully being thought at me. His kisses were sweet at first. I savored the smack of lips, the wispy breaths, and the assertive way he rubbed his arms over my body.

Milo paused, glossy-eyed and running his fingers along the scar of my neck. He softly kissed it. Little, sweet pecks across my neck. But there was nothing sweet running through his mind. Oh, no. A primal urge swelled triumphantly above everything else in the world. It swept away the stress of his day. Perhaps the emotions had merged as he found a new outlet, one where he intended to fuck away his anxiety.

I’d gladly allow him to pour that frustration into me, empty himself of all the worries he carried.

“I want you,” I whispered, tickling his ear with a hot breath.

He caressed me with his hands, pushing up against my body while holding back. “I want you, too.”

“No.” I pushed away. “I want you to use me.”

Milo stared wide-eyed until my words synced with his desires, igniting an urgency to drag me out of the kitchen and into the bedroom without a second of hesitation. He kissed me each step, leading us into the bedroom and guiding my backward steps when my footing fumbled.

“On your knees.” Milo pushed me back; his commanding tone made every submissive fiber of my being tremble.

Craving his dominance, I dropped to my knees obediently and immediately unfastened his belt. Milo ran his fingers through my hair gently but then gripped a full head of hair, shoving his cock into my mouth. Gagging, I stretched my jaw, bracing for the throb against my throat. My body warmed; my dick hardened with each thrust of his hips. His pace didn’t yield for a moment, giving me no chance to prepare. I loved it. His aura radiated throughout the rooms; scarlet and deep purples filled my vision as his cock filled my mouth.

Tenderly, Milo wiped a tear from my eye, then traced his thumb down my jawline and wrapped his whole hand under my chin while his other hand held my hair. He fully controlled my head, face fucking me. I went to unzip my pants.

“No,” he hissed, the tone intoxicating.

Enthralled, I obeyed his desire that beckoned with primal thoughts. I gripped his butt with my hands, steadying his fast thrusts as my throat finally adjusted to the full length of his shaft.

My erection pressed hard against my tight jeans, throbbing for release and stiffening with each grunt Milo made. He took slow breaths, holding my head all the way down. Finally, the pressure lessened. Not on my throat, which I loved, but on my body. Somehow, Milo had begun to undress me. Opening my eyes, I saw the threads of my clothing unstitching, leaving me bare and on my knees as Milo continued using my mouth.

“Ugg mmm,” I struggled to tell him to stop. Not his eager pounding of my throat but the tearing apart of my clothing. I gagged with garbled words instead.

“ Think it, don’t speak it. ” He stroked my face.

Right.

“ That’s my favorite fucking shirt. ” I bobbed my head, continuing because Milo’s satisfaction made me quiver, and I couldn’t allow this exhilaration to fade, not even for a second. It was too enticing.

“I’ll buy you a new one, a hundred new ones.” Milo groaned. “Fuck.”

He pulled his dick out of my mouth and rubbed the tip against my lips, covering them in precum and spit.

“On the bed,” he commanded, undressing himself.

I crawled onto the mattress, assuming a position on all fours, back arched and vibrating with excitement as he lubed me up.

“This is what you want, right?” He wrapped a hand around my neck, pulling me back and into a deeper arch as he pressed the tip of his dick against my hole. “You want me to fuck you?”

I nodded.

“Say it.” Milo smacked his cock against my ass. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want you. I want to feel you. I want to—”

In a swift motion, he entered me. I muffled a gasp, and he paused, allowing me to adjust to him inside me.

“Relax.” Milo rubbed my back, easing my tensed muscles.

Kissing my nape, I knew the moment had passed as a surge of desire blossomed. He shoved my head forward, burying my face into the pillow as he pounded me out. I whimpered, panting and begging with inaudible grunts of satisfaction. His pleasure heightened, and the slap of his skin against mine made me quake, begging for more. Harder. Faster. Anything he wanted, I would gladly give him.

“Wait.” He stopped.

I turned, glimpsing his slacks telekinetically floating into his grip. He rifled through his pockets, retrieving his wallet and pulling out a small plastic square-shaped something. Was he grabbing a condom? We were well past that stage in our relationship.

“Got something I really wanted to try out with you.” He ripped it open with his teeth. “Do you trust me?”

“Implicitly.”

“Good.” He slapped something onto my back.

He rubbed it, pressing his palm between my shoulder blades as my skin tingled from the sensation. It sent a jolt through me, cascading in the strangest way. My telepathy soared. Milo licked the space between my shoulder blades, and with that sensation, the entire world vanished.

Everything disappeared, and I stood inside the confines of my inner mind, taking in the sights of elegant décor, an exquisite banister, and the marble flooring where my legs wobbled.

“Fuck,” I howled, unsure how I stood here as Milo continued railing me outside.

He hadn’t missed a single stroke, making my knees weak and ready to buckle.

“You okay?” His whispered question came from behind, but his words stirred all around.

I convulsed, biting my lip and holding in a moan as he grabbed my cock. Just as I was about to fall forward, Milo materialized in front of me. In my mind.

“How?” I fell into his embrace, clutching his shoulders in my mind while outside, he continued screwing me from behind. “What’s happening?”

“It’s an enchantment,” he whispered. “I’ve always wanted to delve into your head the way you do mine.”

“While fucking?”

“Practically the perfect time.” Milo held me, brushing his hand through my hair but yanking it out there. “It’s not as powerful as your magic, obvs. Requires trust, willingness, and a bit of your psychic branch melding with mine. Still, pretty sexy, right?”

“It’s kind of awkward.” I winced, and Milo’s thrusts eased.

“What about this?” He raised his brows, and the chandelier above twinkled and dimmed, then flickered as the ballroom of my inner core grew dark.

“What are you doing?”

“Helping add a few of my favorite memories, hoping you’ll indulge and add a few of yours, too.”

“Relax,” Finn’s voice called out.

I spun around, searching for his steady breaths, finding a memory playing out before us a few feet away. My legs wrapped over Finn’s shoulders, his lips inches from my own, and Milo pressed to Finn’s back, guiding the motion of all our bodies.

“What is this?”

“Thought it’d be nice experiencing moments that brought us together, indulging in a few youthful kinks, while trying out some new ones.”

This was something I’d experienced on my own many times before, locked in Milo’s memories during sex. But he’d never seen firsthand what it was like watching a memory play out so crisply while in the midst of screwing. I tasted Finn’s skin on my lips the same way I did the comforter I’d bit down on outside my mind. I felt the gentle guidance of Milo’s hands on Finn’s hips as they slapped against my skin.

If Milo had tried something like this a year ago, I would’ve bolted—gone silent and disappeared off the fucking map for months—but somehow, now, I found myself entranced by the recollection, the vivid overlap of then and now and what could be in the future.

“It’s hot, right?” Milo wrapped his arms around me. The tight embrace settled the quiver, but my breathing hitched. “We’re in your brain, watching some of our best bang sessions while I’m literally fucking your brains out.”

My body warmed, convulsed, and I squeezed Milo’s forearms.

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna…” I sighed, shaky and satisfied and flooded with so much serotonin I was surprised my inner core hadn’t erupted.

“Easy, Dorian.” Milo stroked my hair. “Catch your breath, enjoy the show. I’ve got a long night planned for you.”

I chuckled. “What have I gotten myself into?”

This was more than a single memory of Finn; soon, others blossomed in my inner core, playing all around us. Flashes of sex between the three of us but also first kisses, awkward date nights, declarations of love, quiet gestures of understanding, soft moments of affection, conversations both serious and silly, and so much more. It overwhelmed me in the best way possible. Every single event the three of us had together from mine and Milo’s perspective, meaningful or trivial, became seared in my mind.

Floating in Milo’s embrace, I held him as memories unfolded all around us, relishing every second we spent reliving these moments together while he literally railed me deeper into the mattress outside my mind.