Midnight Magic: A Love that Burns Brighter than Spells

Nothing. Again.

"Still struggling with the midnight meditation, I see," came a warm voice from behind her.

Lyralei spun around, her midnight-blue robes swirling about her ankles. Standing in the moonlit courtyard was Thorne Shadowmere, the academy's most promising student and the one person who seemed immune to her family's legendary magical prowess. His dark hair caught the starlight, and his emerald eyes held a mixture of concern and something else she couldn't quite identify.

"I wasn't struggling," she lied, lifting her chin with practiced defiance. "I was simply... communing with the night spirits."

Thorne stepped closer, and she caught the scent of pine and morning mist that always seemed to surround him. "The night spirits must be particularly chatty tonight, then. You've been out here for three hours."

Heat crept up her neck. Had he been watching her all this time? "Perhaps you should focus on your own studies instead of spying on mine, Shadowmere."

"Hard to focus when the most powerful witch in our year is having what appears to be an argument with a stone wall." His lips quirked into a half-smile that made her stomach flutter in a most inconvenient way.