“The professor, who is fascinated by magic.”

Surprised, I paused while unpacking my backpack.

“You’ve read his publications?” I whispered, barely audible.

David looked ahead at the professor.

“He works at the DLSC. It’s my duty to find out about him.”

I nodded silently and also looked ahead to where the last of the girls were moving away from his table and he was organizing a stack of papers.

Shit. My protocol...

I flipped through my folder and, luckily, found it quickly. I jumped up from my seat and rushed forward so fast that I didn’t even have time to panic.

He was walking around his table, but I just followed him until he noticed me and turned toward me.

A slight panic flared up inside me. 

“Miss Blair,” the professor remarked in surprise and scrutinized me with that look that could mean anything.

“Here’s my protocol,” I said quickly. “And the others from the last few weeks.”

Ashamed, I pushed my notes onto the pile on the edge of his desk.

I had wanted to hand in the protocols in one of the professors’ letterboxes by the deadline, but his had been stuffed with whatever.

The professor looked up from the protocols with my scrawly, much too small handwriting. His gaze was unclear, but he seemed to be thinking.

“There were deadlines for that,” I pressed my lips together. “But I’ll overlook it. For once.” Relief spread through me, even though I didn’t know what I had done to deserve this treatment. “Although, I have to say, I wasn’t expecting you at all.” I looked up, tried to meet his gaze, and got caught by his peridot-colored irises. “I would like to remind you that although attendance is not mandatory, you should still take the course seriously.”

In all my years at school, I had never received a negative or warning comment from a teacher. So, it sat all the more heavily that Mr. Suspicious, of all people, was the first to think this was necessary.

But how could I blame him? He didn’t know how good I really was.

“Why don’t you put something up on the server like other professors do?” I asked, realizing too late how that must have come across.

Mr. Suspicious raised both eyebrows, which, by the way, were the most perfect eyebrows I’d ever seen in my life.

Hell, I didn’t even want to find this man attractive, but how could you deny something you’ve been confronted with from all sides?

“Because I highly value the interaction between fellow students. That’s important in research. Especially when we’re working in the lab.”

Great. He was one of that And today we’re doing group work professors.

“As long as I do the required work, there shouldn’t be any problems, should there?” I returned impatiently, and he raised his eyebrows again, but this time...with interest.

“You seem to have a lot of confidence in your performance.”

He stepped closer. And inwardly I trembled because of his statue.

This man was tall, three heads taller than me.

I wanted to take a deep breath to calm down inside, which was a mistake, because a pleasant citrus scent floated toward me, mixed with male pheromones that could only have come from him.

Something in my traitorous stomach began to tingle. And I stepped backward.

Something sharp pricked my waist and as I turned around, I saw one of the piles of papers that the professor must have placed on the edge drop to the floor and scatter behind his desk.

For heaven’s sake...

I quickly bent down to clear up the mess I had made and grabbed the first few sheets of paper.

I saw him bend down as well and sped up.

“I’m...” I paused as I spotted the black ink rune on the parchment in front of me, and memories flashed through my mind. Memories I wished Gloria had erased. “...sorry.”

I couldn’t help but stare at the rune. A jagged, serpentine mark with three rounds of circles, decorated with splashes of ink.

The last time I had seen a mark like this, it had been in a forbidden book. The woman who had owned it had been robbed of her memory in front of the Circle and the Councils, and the book had been burned. The reason: Umbra. Shadow magic. Magic, I didn’t know much about simply because we were not allowed to know anything about it, let alone mention it at all.

I spotted another mark.

Suddenly, his warm hand brushed mine as the professor reached for the paper, and only now I noticed the simple golden double ring on his finger.

Without removing my hand from his paper, I looked up.

His bright green eyes sparkled with indecision, eyeing mine.

“Julie...” he whispered, tugging at the paper and I finally loosened my grip.

“I’m sorry...” I replied just as quietly, realizing too late what he had just called me...and how forbidden good it had sounded...and how forbidden those marks there on that sheet were.

I stared at him while he tidied up the rest of the papers with a working jaw. I shook my head absentmindedly and reached for the pieces of paper under my feet.

As I handed them to him, his gaze lingered on my wrist.

My gray wool sweater had ridden up a bit, revealing my forearm...or rather, the thirty-seven faded scars and the two new ones.

He stared directly at it, his features tense.

My fingers began to tingle with a traitorous coolness.

I shot upwards.

He did, too.

Our eyes met...