Mythical (The Mystical Series Book 2) by Michael Weekly Read Free Book Online

care to stop Eric. His arrogant attitude and uncontrollable anger issues really are beginning to remind me of his brother. He needs to stop acting this way around these elves or it’ll get us both killed. Clearly, we’re outnumbered here.
    “Well are you going to ask me?” Christian prompts.
    I walk over to the window, allowing my gaze to wander out at the beautiful trees. “Did I experience an illusion with you?”
    “Come on, Eliza, you’re the witch here, not me. Aren’t you people ‘born’ to figure that out yourselves?”
    “Answer the question. I have to know.”
    He sits up straight. “No it wasn’t,” he says, the bottom of his lip sliding across his sharp elven teeth.
    I know that’s what witches are known for, but I’m still learning about this strange world I live in. All I knew about elves was that it’s hard catching them in the woods, and now I think I’ve experienced it firsthand.
    The elf I tried saving Donovan from, the first time we correctly met. That elf was corrupt, and the way she taunted me caused me to slowly become insane. Christian…he’s different. The way he carries himself is so confident, though not too much to call him cocky.
    “Are all witches this serious about things?” he asks.
    I cut my eyes at him, and he flinches.
    “I’m sorry if I’ve said something,” he apologizes. “Your emotions are—”
    “They’re pitiful, I know.”
    “They’re different. Which makes you even more interesting.”
    A glint of golden brown shimmers in his eyes then fades deep into the light green. I shift awkwardly at the way he stares at me, like I was mouthwatering to him, like I am his dessert.
    I flick my eyes toward my broomstick beside me; I place my hands on my hips. “So, um, what’re you doing up late? Here in my room?” I try to make my question as nice as possible, flashing him a fake smile.
    His eyes traveled down the flowery path around my bed. “Wanted to warn you about Emily.”
    Great. Emily is the last elf I want running across my mind at this time of night, and it might tempt me to throw a dagger at her in her sleep. I’m sure her proficient reflexes would save her either way. Then, yeah, I’d die from my lame attempt at murder. I drift off deeper into my deadly reverie.
    Christian stands up, taking my hand. I glance at his tanned fingers and the markings around his knuckles. The same tingling sensation I felt with my tattoos hidden underneath my arm proceed to buzz, along with the new markings around my thigh and up to the sides of my stomach. I placed my hand on top of his, the sensation vibrantly unbearable, and we jerk our hands away from each other. Our eyes meet, and I figure he felt the same buzz. The leafy lines on the side of his neck wink on and off to glowing a dark forest green.
    “You’re glowing,” I say, looking at his neck.
    Christian’s eyes dart to mine. He squints like he’s seen something. “Did you feel that?”
    “Yeah, I kind of still feel it,” I say. “It’s faint.”
    My thighs tingle, waking from being asleep. Christian and I simultaneously glance at the broomstick on my bed. I grab my weapon, causing the swirly silver lines to shine in front of me. I drag my thumb absently across the red button, and unaware what my actions are causing me to do, I press the button. A sword ejects from its sheath, glowing light purple. My back is facing Christian; I’m going to do something I will regret later. I can’t control the emotions that rage within my head. I swing my arm around with my sword, and Christian ducks to the ground. My fingers are burning around the grip of my broomstick.
    “Eliza, what are you doing? I’m not any danger to you.”
    My thumb clicks the button, morphing the purple sword into a sharp whip. I slash it on the floor, and he leaps away from the impact. A dent is created on the glossy floor.
    “My hand is stuck holding my broomstick,” I say, circling my arm in the air and aiming for his neck.
    Christian