28. Burst Her Bubble

Burst Her Bubble

What's A Queen Without A Crown?

A fter a morning of classes, my brain is only half-functional, but I'm still riding high on the adrenaline from last night. World domination starts with a solid plan, I think, but honestly, I'm also really looking forward to showing off in the cafeteria today. No more slinking around like Kyla owns the place.

Professor Malakar, our formidable teacher, stands at the front of the room, her sharp eyes darting over the class like a hawk scanning for prey. Her graying hair is pulled back in a tight, no-nonsense bun, matching the austere charcoal robes she always wears. She's the kind of witch who could probably hex someone into next week with just a glare, and judging by the anxious fidgeting of the students around me, we're all very aware of it.

Today, though, she seems particularly intense, as if she can sense the collective unease in the room. Probably because half of us are terrified of accidentally blowing up the classroom, I think wryly.

"Miss Zaria," her voice cuts through my thoughts like a well-honed blade, drawing me back to reality. "How are you managing with your new grimoire?"

I straighten up, meeting her gaze with what I hope looks like calm confidence. "I've got it handled, Professor," I say, doing my best not to sound like I'm lying through my teeth. It's not a total lie—I am managing. Just maybe not as gracefully as I'd like.

Professor Malakar's sharp eyes narrow ever so slightly, clearly not buying my calm act. She gives me a small nod, though, acknowledging the response. "Good. But remember, a grimoire is a living tool. If you neglect it, it will neglect you."

"Got it," I reply, forcing a grin. "No neglecting the book of magical doom."

Her expression softens just a fraction, almost like she's holding back a smirk. Almost.

"Carry on," she says, moving her gaze to the next victim—er, student.

As she turns away, I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding. That went well, I think, rolling my shoulders to release the tension. But of course, Malakar isn't one to let us off easy, and soon she's launching into a deep dive about spell endurance and magical stamina, concepts I'm already familiar with but will apparently never stop hearing about.

By the time class ends, I'm more than ready for a change of pace—and for something that involves fewer lectures about how not to accidentally set yourself on fire.

Next up is Elemental Magic with Professor Ember. This class? Total cakewalk for me. It's not that I don't respect the power of elemental forces—trust me, I do—but when it comes to manipulating fire, water, air, and earth, I'm basically in my element. Pun intended.

Professor Ember starts talking about refining our control over multiple elements at once, and I spend most of the class daydreaming about the perfect fireball I could toss at Kyla's stupid blonde wig. Okay, maybe not the best idea, but the temptation is there. I manage to hold back, though, and by the time lunch rolls around, I'm itching for some action. The slow simmer of frustration over everything bubbling beneath the surface.

Strutting into the cafeteria feels like the most natural thing in the world now. No more second-guessing. I spot Derek sitting at a table near the back, and to my surprise, Hank is there too. My eyebrows shoot up as I slide into the seat next to Derek.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite hacker," I greet Hank, leaning back with a smirk. "What brings you to the social center of misery today?"

Hank doesn't even look up from his phone, his fingers still tapping away. "Needed a break from hex-proofing my hard drive."

Derek snorts, shoving a tray of fries toward me. "He's also here because I promised him snacks."

"Oh, snacks," I say, grabbing a fry. "Well, now that I'm here, your day just got infinitely better."

Hank finally glances up, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Yeah, about that. I've got some intel for you."

I freeze mid-fry, giving him a look. "Go on."

Hank doesn't miss a beat, leaning forward slightly. "Sam started messaging Kyla about four months ago. The whole plan was for Sam to stay close to you—be your ‘friend'—until you came up with the final assessment idea. Then, she was supposed to hand that idea, and your grimoire, over to Kyla."

I blink, processing what Hank just said. Four months? That backstabbing little— No. Stay calm.

Derek, though, isn't as composed. His fists clench on the table, and I can practically see the storm brewing in his eyes. "Are you telling me she's been playing Zaria this whole time, and I didn't see it? Or worse, didn't notice?"

Hank shrugs, still tapping away at his phone. "You weren't supposed to. That's how manipulation works."

Derek curses under his breath, clearly rattled. But me? I'm oddly calm. Almost… detached. "I don't even care about the grimoire or the final assessment anymore," I mutter, mostly to myself.

Both of them look at me like I've lost my mind. Derek leans forward, his voice low and concerned. "What? Why?"

I take a breath, locking eyes with him. "Because right now, all I care about is ripping Sebastian out of Kyla's grasp. The rest is just… noise."

Derek studies my face for a moment, then nods, understanding what I mean. "Alright. So what's the plan?"

Before I can answer, Kyla's little crew saunters into the cafeteria like they own the place. Speak of the devil. Kyla's there, along with Bethany, and of course, Sebastian. He's still playing his part, looking just the right amount of distant, letting Kyla touch him without outright flinching. It's a damn good act, but I can see how much he hates it.

But one thing's missing—Eva's not with them. I smirk to myself, knowing she's probably still licking her wounds from the disaster last night.

I lean toward Derek. "You ready to do what we need to do?"

Derek looks at me, eyes dark but determined. "Yeah. No more waiting."

I nod, my resolve hardening. No more second guessing. Tonight, Kyla's reign ends.

Derek reaches across the table, taking my hand in his. "Let's finish this."

I glance over at Kyla's table, watching her laugh too loudly, flaunting her so-called superiority. My eyes meet Sebastian's for a brief moment, and he gives the smallest nod.

It's time.

Derek and I get up from the table, but before we make our move, I spot Hank with his usual mound of food. Perfect.

"Hey, Hank," I say sweetly, already reaching for his tray.

He pulls it back, suspicious. "Zaria, what are you—?"

"I need to borrow this," I say, grabbing it before he can protest. "I promise I'll make it up to you with a sneaky bottle from my dad's vineyard."

He groans, but doesn't fight me. "Fine. But it better be the good stuff."

"You know it will be," I wink before nodding to Derek, and we casually head toward Kyla's table, blending in like we're just two lovebirds with trays of mediocre cafeteria food.

As we approach, I mutter a quick clumsiness spell under my breath, flicking my fingers toward a random student walking by. The poor guy stumbles forward like a baby deer learning how to walk, barreling straight into Derek and me. It's not exactly graceful, but it does the trick.

"Oh, whoops!" I say, feigning surprise as both Derek's tray and Hank's tray tip dramatically, dumping their contents all over Kyla.

Kyla lets out a high-pitched scream, jumping up from the table like she's just been doused in acid. Spaghetti sauce and mashed potatoes cling to her once-perfect wig hair and outfit, and I can see Sebastian barely holding back a smirk.

"You idiots!" she screeches, standing, her face twisted in rage. The table of her minions—Bethany, Sam, and Miles—also stand, trying to look intimidating. But, honestly, they just look like a bunch of soggy extras in Kyla's personal soap opera.

Before I can open my mouth, the student who bumped into us stammers out an apology. "I-I didn't mean to! It was an accident!"

But Kyla's not having any of it. She's fuming, her hands shaking with rage as she wipes food off her jacket. "Oh, I'm sure it was an accident. Just like everything that happens to me when Zaria's around!"

I can feel Derek tense beside me, ready to jump in, but I raise a hand, signaling I've got this. "I'm sorry, Kyla. Not everyone can handle a little… spill with the same level of grace as you do."

Her eyes practically blaze with fire as she steps toward me, her voice low and menacing. "You always seem to be in the way, don't you, Zaria? You and your boyfriend-stealing, pathetic, wannabe witch ways."

I raise an eyebrow and smile sweetly. "Stealing? Last time I checked, Derek wasn't a piece of property. You might wanna check the expiration date on those 1950s ideas." Kyla's face flushes with anger, and I can see her hand reaching for her wand. People around us visibly back away, except for one person: Sebastian. He steps right in front of me, his broad shoulders blocking Kyla's view of me completely.

"Kyla, don't," he says calmly, but his voice is filled with a quiet warning.

"Sebastian, move," she hisses, her wand now pointed directly at him.

He shakes his head. "No."

I can see the confusion flicker across her face, mixing with rage. "What do you mean, no? I command you to move!" For a moment, there's absolute silence. The cafeteria is frozen, students watching, wide-eyed, as the queen bee's puppet suddenly stops dancing on her strings. The disbelief on her face is priceless, and I almost laugh out loud. Almost.

"Looks like your Binding Hex isn't working so well anymore, Kyla," I say, stepping out from behind Sebastian, my voice dripping with satisfaction.

Kyla's wand falters in her grip, her eyes darting between me and Sebastian. "What the hell is going on?" she demands, her voice shrill now.

I smile, taking a step closer. "Oh, I think you know exactly what's going on. You're losing control, and you hate it, don't you?" Sebastian's smirk returns, just a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. Derek steps up next to me, casually leaning against the nearest table with his arms crossed, watching the whole thing unfold like he's at the movies. "Don't worry," I add, "this is just the beginning." Kyla's eyes widen, and she looks around at the crowd gathering. It's like she can feel her hold slipping, like sand through her fingers, and the realization is settling in. The queen is losing her crown.

Kyla's face flushes deep red, her voice rising to a near screech. "I don't know anything about a binding hex! What kind of nonsense are you spewing?"

Sebastian steps forward, his voice cold and calm, though the tension in his body betrays how much he's holding back. "The binding hex you put on me when you drugged me, Kyla. It's not working anymore. Nice try, though."

As I listen to the chaos unfolding, I pull a hair tie out of my pocket and twist my hair up into a high bun—no more hiding. I'm done with this nonsense. I step in, my voice sharp but controlled. "Kyla, you can't keep manipulating people and hexing them into submission just to get your way. It's pathetic. And worse, it's cruel."

Derek chimes in, his tone laced with mock pity. "And as for Sam… It's even more pathetic that she'd trade her so-called friendship for a shot at climbing up Kyla's social ladder. Guess some people value status over actual friends."

Sebastian takes a deep breath, and his eyes meet Kyla's. There's no humor in his words, no teasing this time. "Hexing a vampire just to force him to act like your boyfriend? That's psychopathic at best, especially when that vampire already has a fated mate." He steps closer to me, his fingers brushing mine, making the whole situation even clearer.

We turn as a unit—Derek, Sebastian, and I—to walk away from the mess that is Kyla's little social empire crumbling. But of course, she can't resist a last jab.

Her voice, full of venom, spits out, "That mark on your neck…"

I pause, glancing over my shoulder with a smirk. "Yep, it's a mate mark. Sorry to burst your bubble." And with that, I turn back around and continue walking.

That's when I hear it. The low muttering, a spell being cast. My heart quickens as I instantly recognize the tone—it's a knockout spell, wand-level magic, designed to incapacitate someone on the spot.

Without even looking back, I react, muttering my own counter-spell under my breath, "Frangitur ventus, vis evanescat." The words flow out swiftly, a command to shatter the incoming magic. The air around us ripples, bending to my will as the magic that was meant to hit us loses its edge, softening into nothing more than a puff of shimmering bubbles.

Bubbles. Really. I stifle a smirk, watching them float harmlessly around, catching the light like we're in some ridiculous fairy tale.

I stop, looking over my shoulder at Kyla, her wand still raised, her eyes wide with fury and disbelief. "As good as you think you are with magic, Kyla, let me remind you of something—you're using a grimoire you stole. And the witch who wrote it? She knows how to counter everything in it."

Kyla's scream echoes through the cafeteria as she storms off, her little cheer squad scurrying behind her like lost puppies.

Derek and Sebastian exchange amused glances as I chuckle softly, mockingly flipping my hair over my shoulder even though its up. "That felt good."

"Not gonna lie," Derek smirks, "watching her lose it is better than sex."

Sebastian's grin returns, mischievous and satisfied. "Well, we'll have to take your word for that."