Jane's POV
When you find yourself alone in a room with a man that hates you, every small detail becomes daunting. Suddenly, I was very weary of everything around me. The fabric of my cotton tee was sticking to the cells of my body. The pink skirt I had worn has started to look stupid now. The room felt hotter. I wanted to remove my jacket, but Professor Hank was so close, I could hardly breathe. Maybe it was because I found him scary. Or that I didn't want to interrupt him, or dare to stop him while he was reading. The pirated copy of 'The Mistress' Revenge' laid open on our desks. I was too broke to get the original one. Not that they printed it here.
I couldn't help but notice his face. He had a long face, with soft features. The slant of his nose sat somewhat crooked. He had thick brows, and underneath them the most intimidating pair of black eyes. Every now and then, he would furrow his brows together and wrinkles would appear. His lips remain pressed in a line. As usual, he hadn't removed his coat. He was always seen in one. Always the brown one. His black hair unkempt and unruly. And yet everything about him seemed perfect.
When done, he sat with his shoulders laxed against the tall, mahogany chair. He was a solid six feet, when standing. But even now he seemed taller than me.
"I am done marking my comments. Now shall we begin?" I stirred in my seat. My bangs were getting in my eye, but I wouldn't dare tell him otherwise.
"Jane..." I found his gaze fixated on me. "You're peculiar," his fingers brushed against my forehead, tucking them behind my ear. My breath hitched, chest rising and falling in the most betraying manner.
"Start from page four not five," he instructs, completely unaware of my inner workings. My palms had begun to sweat and my breath was churning the space of my lungs. I wanted to breathe. Hastily, I skimmed through the pages for a four not five.
"Read," he said assertively. It was as if I could hear myself hanging on the paper thin walls with its chipping paint. The dull creme of the walls closing in around me. It took me a moment to realise, I was not breathing. And then his fingers relaxed against the pen he was holding.
"Fine. I will begin," he took no notice of me. Maybe he just wanted to get rid of me.
" I don't love her. She looks almost like the woman she was yesterday. But in my heart, I know Vanya has changed. Her words have slipped to a sweet sorcery. There is no hint of seduction. She yearns to take my guard off and get what she wants. Maybe if I give her a taste of the hell she craves she will leave me be. So I do the unthinkable..." Professor Hank read. His voice melted against my ear. Causing a ringing course through its passage. I couldn't help but feel my legs stiffening, my senses heightened. This was my favourite part. I had peeped at it but never got to read through. In vain, I had tried. But there was something awful. A pain. Rising in my chest that would make me stop. I could never go further.
" I lifted her off the pedestal where her naive nakedness delicatedly rested. The fullness of her bossom lunged, melting swiftly against my chest. I take in the whiff of her scent. She smells like lavenders. There wasn't one thing she had overlooked to leave me be. But Vanya wasn't someone who knew how to love.
'Kiss me, Duke Canton', her thighs cupped my waist as she held onto me with her all. I was aware she was ferverent, and weak but those didn't seem like the words of a weak lady at all. As if my primal instincts were caving in, she had whisked an arousal out of me. Vanya was a temptress..."
I could no longer take it. This story. The scenes. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I wasn't made to study sexy Isekai novels. I wanted my way out. Before he could read further, I shot up.
"Professor Hank! I am sorry but I have to go," I tell him.
For a moment he does nothing. His expression turned blank, and then a familiar scowl appeared.
"You think I am enjoying reading shitty smut to an idiot like you?" He was mad.
"I just really have to go," I reached for my backpack, pushing in my books and pens, making a bee line for the door. I don't want to read steamy scenes with him. The Mistress' Revenge was a wrong choice.
"Jane..." Professor Hank's voice echoed through the walls. "Don't bother showing up tomorrow if you don't have the report ready," his warning came without a mistake. Next, I knew he was the one walking out the door.
***
From The Scrolls
In a faraway kingdom, the dragons ruled the realm. The King from the Men, Haggarth had bent his knee in front of The Ancient Breath, a sacred fire that yielded the zest of Dragon's spirit. The Kingdom Of Gestalt flourished under the good will of the Dragons, until one night the army of red daggers attacked the dragon's lair. The death of the newborn in their egg was a call for war.
So the King from the Men, Haggarth had no choice but to ask the mages for their help. His ailing health however, didn't allow him to fight for his kingdom. He gave his crown to his Lieutenant Commander in general, Bartot Canton.
Canton's loyalty to the crown was known in the three realms. Impressed, the head of the Mages gave Canton what was never given to any men before him. The Spear Of Ultimate will. The strength of which could only be borne by a man whose blood hadn't known a speck of betrayal. The only weapon that could cut through the hide of dragon wings.
To be continued...