Chapter 7 Baked In A Furnance

Fiamara’s POV

Scab and I stood in front of the white door, which I believed to be Veronica’s Office. I could hear her voice coming from inside. But there was no response. 

I faced Scab just as he lifted his lean knuckle towards the door again for another knock, grumbling. The lock clicked, and then the door to a tall, long ash brown haired, tanned skinned guy with the most captivating grey eyes I’d ever seen. 

He rested his broad shoulder against the frame of the door. He raised his head, setting his gaze on me as he ran his hand through his hair. My starstruck eyes traveled from his high cheek bones down his huge neck to his black shirt— so tight against his large bicep and toned chest that it couldn’t bottom all the way to the top.

He had faint old scars running along his arms, his skin a bit rough. He was hairy, as though he was built for war. Is every guy in this Academy so breathtaking— Damn. How do I survive around all this heat?

Scab cleared his throat and cut me out of my daze. “Young Warlock, we've come to see the principal.”

Warlock? As in wizard and magician related.

I thought, looking at him. His eyes were still on me. His magical gaze with no form of expression made me shudder a bit.

“Come in, but—” he placed a finger over his thin lips, making a hush sound. “Keep it down because she is talking with the president.”

I nodded, still hypnotized by him. He turned and walked in slowly. I heaved in relief as he looked away. Scab entered and I followed him.

The office looked more like a hall than a room. It has high white ceilings with a chandelier in the middle.

The brown walls matched the shelves right in front of it, carrying books and files. It looked like a library with a big table and chairs on the left. Except the fact that there was a black curtain with intricate designs demarcating the room.

Veronica's voice came out from behind the curtain. “Marek, are you even my blood?”

My eyes widened and I turned to Scab who seemed uninterested. He jumped on the high table, sat on it and started to swing its legs back and forth, humming softly.

I faced Aldric, he had his brows raised and his lips pressed into a thin line as he walked past me, then went behind the curtain.

Oh no. I was going to ask him if I should step out. I don't think this is a good time.

I looked back to the closed door and shook my head. Then I sank in the chair close to Scab. 

“Weird, isn't it?” 

He didn't even turn to me. He just looked at the ceiling and then at the library.

I sighed, getting into my own head. 

Veronica had told me of her grandson. But she seemed so fond of him back then when she was talking of him. What went wrong?

“You keep disappointing me. Many of these students are looking up to you, if not all of them,” Veronica stated.

A soft voice replied, “I never asked anyone to look up to me, Grand. I just want to—”

“Really now?” Veronica asked. “What about the Orientation coming up?” 

“I don't know, grand.”

“Don't do this to me, Marek. I raised you to be strong. Don't be like your mother.”

“Grand, plea—”

“She got pregnant with you not knowing the father, then you turn out to be a demon shape shifter. There was no demon in school back then,” Veronica sighed. “Then she ran off with another guy, leaving you for me for over 17 years. Did I not raise you right?”

My seat was becoming hot at that point. I shifted from side to side, uncomfortable. 

I really didn't want to hear all of these. Why did Veronica call me when she knew she needed some private time with her grandson.

She seemed harsh on him. But I knew taking sides won't do. She’d been betrayed by her daughter, but being too hard on him wasn't the best solution.

I had never seen him before, but here I was feeling bad for him.

Get a grip, Fiamara. Focus on the fact that you were brought here without your consent and that you need to get out.

“I will try my best, Grand.”

“Good. Keep the upcoming tournament at the back of your mind and train harder. You have to beat Raziel, else he would be the President if you don't sit up and—”

“I never asked for any of this,” Marek replied slowly, though I could pick a hint of anger in his voice. “I never wanted to be the president—”

“Of course you do, Marek,” The brown haired guy who opened the door to Scab and I cut in. “Right? We need the position and the money, don't we?”

I drummed my nails against the fine wood of the table, tapping my feet, anxiously.

“We do.” Marek responded, though it sounded very untrue.

“So you better stop running from responsibility,” Veronica replied.

Scab picked out a book, dust fizzled in the air as he hit the book. He stepped back coughing.

“Who's there, Aldric?” Veronica asked. 

“Scab and a girl— they said you wanted to see them,” Aldric replied.

“Oh, Fiamara Calder.” 

The sound of stump heels clicking the tiled floor neared me and I sprang off my seat.

Her well manicured fingers pushed the curtains to the side as she poked her head out followed by her whole body.

“You are here, Fiamara.”

Aldric came out, behind him was— Marek.

My jaw dropped. 

Dark Purple tailored pants, Cream coloured long sleeve shirt, tucked in and rolled up to his ankle. He had a brown knitted vest that matched his polished shoe.

Sleek back dark chestnut hair, green eyes and broad shoulders. 

Where did they bake these boys? In some furnace? How are they so hot?

Marek faced Aldric. “She—” he whispered and paused, swallowing hard with a frown. “When did she come and what did she hear?”

Aldric pressed his lips flat and scratched the back of his head as he groaned. “Uhhhmm. Maybe everything.”

Marek’s green eyes shattered like glass. He seemed so strong but yet so soft. He looked down embarrassed as he blinked. 

“Damn it,” He groaned