Chapter one

I thought nothing good would come from the hell that I endured, but luck is on my side for once in my life, and I find myself being shipped off to the elite training academy in the Onyx. Unfortunately, it’s still in my home realm, the Fae realm, so still too close but it’s better than being where I was. I'll take the panic attacks, the nightmares and the hatred if it means that I get to escape my Father. The Academy is nearly a week’s ride from my Father, and any distance between us is a bonus. The downside, though, is that, as the name suggests, it’s a school. I don’t want to go to school, especially to an elite training academy that trains supernatural beings from all over the many realms, that means Fae, Witches, Shifters of every kind you can imagine, Vampires, Banshees and multiple others. The only species that doesn’t attend are the Dragons; they stick to their own realm, unrest in their kingdom pushing them to retreat from the rest of the realms.

As I said I don’t relish the idea of attending school, I know everything I need to know when it comes to combat, weapons and murder, and a lot of shit I wish I didn’t know. Father made sure of that. They call it a training academy, but I’ve always thought they should just drop the pretence and call it what it really is, an academy for assassins. Of course, there are factions of the main academy that are devoted to just that but in reality, everyone that attends this school is taught how to kill in the most efficient way. They say it's so that we can police the Realms, protect the innocent Supernaturals and Humans in the Earth Realm’s case, and we do, I just can’t help but feel that we’re being trained for something more, something bigger.

I guess I’ll find out now.

I’m actually not entirely sure how my Uncle managed to convince my Father to send me here. My Father has kept an incredibly tight leash on me for my whole life. It probably has something to do with the incident, and it can’t hurt that my Uncle is a well-respected instructor at the Academy.

I don’t want to be here at the damn Black Onyx Academy, that’s for fucking sure. Even if it does give me a reprieve from my Father. I don't have a choice, not really, but I do need some sort of escape from him, even if it is just temporary. All I know for sure is that I’m going to keep my cards close to my chest like I always have because although I don’t want to be here, the alternative is going on assignments for my Father and I fucking hate doing that.

He shouldn’t even be sending me on these assignments in the first place, not until I’m twenty-five, anyway. My Father plays by his own rules though, and has been sending me out on assassination missions since I was only fifteen. Now at twenty-one, I’ve done more jobs than I care to admit, and my hands are practically streaming with blood.

My Father is an influential man, to say the least, and that is the only reason he got away with sending a fifteen-year-old out on assassination missions. Of course, no one knows that it’s me. I take precautions to make sure that I am never identified. Everyone is too afraid of the power and influence he wields, so those very select few that know what goes on behind those castle doors just turn the other cheek, pretending they’re not aware. The last person who actually tried to help me was pulled apart by wolves as my Father made me watch, and laughed, as if it was the best thing he’d ever seen. That only left my Uncle, who knows what my Father is like and has been trying to get me out of his grasp without losing his life ever since.

The fear he’s instilled in everyone who knows him, not to mention the support he has garnered through either bribes or sheer charm. That last one always infuriates me; how can people fall for the utter bullshit he spews?

Because of his vast influence, I have no choice but to obey him. Not only because I am a child in the eyes of the Fae kingdom until I reach twenty-five, but also because if I don’t, if I disobey him, the punishments I receive are far harsher than his usual ones. He always finds out; there are plenty of people who want to gain his favour and do so by reporting any wrongdoings I may make.

Straight after the incident, my Uncle came to my Father with the idea of me enrolling in the Academy. Using the excuse that it would be to hone my skills, make me a better soldier for him. We both know that there is very little the Academy could teach me, but my Uncle saw an opportunity to give me a bit of breathing room away from my Father and took it. He couldn’t get me in here straight away though, and my Father took advantage of that. I’ve done six jobs in the three months it’s taken my Uncle to get me here and get everything in order in time for the new year to start.

Excellent.

Not all of those jobs were assassinations, but not one of them was pleasant. Let's just leave it at that.

So, here I am, Black Onyx Academy, the elite of all the academies in all the many realms. It's notoriously difficult to get into and has a waitlist as long as I am tall. The fact that I got in after only a three-month wait is a testament to my Father's political pull.

I stare up at the monstrosity of a building from the back of my carriage. I don’t know why my Father insisted on me taking his most lavish one, but I can only assume there’s some political angle at play here. There normally is. Unfortunately, the technology that the Earth realm has managed to invent rarely works here. Some of the more minor things do, like the cameras that I plan to put up in my room and the laptop that links them all, but things like cars definitely don’t. Several supernaturals have tried to bring cars or motorbikes here over the years, but either they don’t survive the portal, or the magic here messes with them, and they simply won't start.

Earth's televisions work over here, though, and some of the more tech-savvy Fae have managed to get their many subscription services over here. It always amuses me, especially the British programmes. They gained their accent and dialect from the Fae that travelled there thousands of years ago. We shared many things with not just them but all the countries on Earth.

No one is really sure why some of Earth's tech works over here and why some of it doesn’t, and frankly, I couldn’t give a fuck.

I’m stalling, and I know it. The thing is, I’m not exactly a people person. In fact, I fucking hate them. Especially people my own age, and I’m going to be surrounded by them for at least the next four years unless I manage to get myself kicked out.

I briefly consider the idea before dismissing it entirely. My Uncle pulled a lot of strings to get me in here, and I’d hate to let him down. He’s one of the few people I can actually stand to be around. Not to mention the other consequences that would accompany me getting expelled courtesy of my Father. I shudder just thinking about it and shut that thought process down immediately.

Sighing, I decide that I’d better leave the solitude of my carriage and face the Academy. I am many things, but a coward is undoubtedly not one of them. I grab my small backpack that contains the only clothes I own. Anyone who knows my Father would find that very hard to believe, considering he’s one of the richest men in this realm. I then grab the two duffle bags by my feet. These two bags contain the only possessions that I actually give a shit about. Clothes you can always buy more of but a perfectly balanced sword or throwing knives that have been made specifically for your hands? They’re much, much harder to replace.

I’m not really sure what it says about me that my most valued positions are the multitude of weapons I have in these bags, but I don’t give a shit.

As I walk towards the huge castle with its turrets and gargoyles that actually come alive when they are needed and ridiculously manicured lawns and flower beds, it occurs to me that I should probably be feeling impressed or something. I live in a castle. You’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all. I walk up to the giant stone steps that lead to the enormous wooden doors. Uncle Magnus wanted to meet me at the door but had a last-minute thing come up. It’s no skin off my back. I’m not exactly the needy type.

I push my way through the doors and take a second to study the expansive stone flooring and high ceilings.

Just as I thought, it looks like a castle.

Cautiously, I move further into the impressive room, ready to make my way to the Headmaster's office to get my schedule and, more depressingly, receive my team assignment. That’s right, not only am I going to be subjected to people on a daily basis, but I’m also going to be forced to be on the same team as them. It doesn’t sound that bad, except getting a team here means that you are stuck with the same team forever. You are bonded together by bonds that are unbreakable.

They have a spear. It was spelled centuries ago by an all-powerful fae, or maybe a god. The histories are a bit hazy on that. Anyway, anyone who joins this prestigious Academy, sense the sarcasm, has to hold this spear, and it chooses your destined team. Once the spear has declared who you belong to, you’re bound for life, and there are no take backs.

There is a lot of darkness in my past and a lot of people who are still looking for me, thanks to the shit my Father made me do. Therefore, I am not safe to be around, I work better alone anyway. This was one of the main points I argued with Magnus, but he quickly turned it around on me and made an equally good point when he said that I could just disappear when the time comes. It’s normally hard for people to separate themselves from their teams, but I highly doubt I’ll have an issue with that. I've been alone for most of my life, and I've grown to like it that way.

If people and I are a no go, then women and I are basically just hell. If I don’t stab one of them by the end of the first week, I’ll be incredibly surprised. There’s no chance of me being put with a team that has a mix of genders, which would only be mildly better. It’s not like the Centre and Bonded groups that are so incredibly rare these days. These teams are purely for warriors, enforcers, and assassins, and the teams are always either all male or all female.

Which is just bloody peachy.

I turn down a vast hallway. Magnus gave me vague directions when he let me know that he wouldn't be able to meet me, so I sort of know where I'm supposed to be going. I scan the hallway, studying it for escape routes when my steps falter.

Coming my way is an absolutely drop-dead gorgeous demon. That alone almost has me stopping in my tracks. My reaction to men is never this instant, but I challenge anyone not to want him. His black as night hair is streaked with purple and navy blue. He’s built like a tank, muscles upon gorgeous muscles all wrapped in tinted dark purple skin. He has two black as night horns perched on his head, and I can just see the tops of black wings peaking over his shoulders.

Suddenly, a flash of a different demon with wings skitters across my mind and sours my mood. I forcibly push it away—different demon, this is a different demon.

This demon stomps towards me, cursing under his breath. His head snaps up as soon as he hears my approach, and his already scowling face darkens further; when I meet his eyes, I have to admit they are pretty a mix of black and blue, but some of their beauty is quickly diminished by the utter lack of emotions in their depths.

He has his emotions locked down tight.

He sneers as he very obviously studies me, scoffing when he sees my two bags and crossing his arms over his broad chest as he stops in the middle of the hallway. I pause in my advance, wanting to get this shit over with, and I know just from his demeanour that whatever comes out of his mouth next will be a whole bunch of shit.

“Typical spoiled princess.” He jeers, and I simply raise my eyebrow, waiting for the rest of the insult. “You do realise that this is a training academy, not a fashion show? So you won’t need that many bags of clothes.” He taunts, wrongly assuming that all of the bags are full of clothes.

My anger starts to rise. I have anger issues, hardly surprising with my upbringing.

“But then again, you only got in because of who your daddy is, isn’t that right, Farren? I feel fucking sorry for whatever team ends up with you. You’ll get them all killed with your inexperience.” He spits.

My blood boils in my veins. Spoiled! I fucking wish, as if that man would do anything that would benefit me in any way. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop and my Father to issue some sort of order that would make him allowing me to be here make more sense. He is right about one thing, though. I will most likely get my team killed, but not because of my lack of experience. I have more experience than any of the elitist idiots that attend this Academy could ever hope to have from sheer experience alone. No, I’ll get them killed because of who is after me. They’ll get caught in the crossfire if I’m not careful, and there isn't anything I can do to change that. It's just the way it is.

I’m not surprised he knows my name. As I said, my Father is powerful, and he’s been meticulous about how he portrays me. I am the shy, politely spoken, spoiled and pampered daughter of a powerful man to the Fae world. One that he likes to keep out of the spotlight as much as possible, for my own safety.

“Problem dickhead?” I growl, my voice husky from disuse. My teal and black eyes are no doubt flashing with rage.

Shock ever so briefly crosses his eyes at my lack of fear of him, but he shutters his emotions quickly.

“You won’t last the week. You haven’t got daddy to protect you here.” He scoffs, no genuine emotion showing anywhere on his stoic face.

I can’t help the loud laugh that escapes me. That fucking man has never protected me.

This time, his entire face shows his shock for a fraction of a second before he once again locks it down. I feel grim satisfaction that I managed to get him to react like that.

“Fuck you,” I snarl as I barge past him.

His laughter follows me down the hall. I’m generally not this easily riled up; I can't be not in my line of work. That would mean a death sentence for me, but something about that fucking prick just rubs me the wrong fucking way.

I take a deep breath as I get to the Headmaster’s door, trying to find my calm before I enter. I knock on the door, and it opens to reveal a man in his mid to late forties, considering supernaturals age a lot slower than humans, that makes him ancient.

Judging from the flash of fang, I’m guessing he’s a vampire.

“Ah, Farren, come on in.” He smiles, gesturing for me to go ahead of him.

“After you.” I smile in return, hoping it doesn’t look as forced as it is. I never let supernaturals I don’t know walk behind me if I can help it.

He walks ahead of me and behind his desk, gesturing for me to take a seat.

“Now, we expect you to pull your weight here.” He starts obviously thinking the same as the dickhead in the hallway that I have no training at all and no willingness to train. I chose to stay silent. Let him think what he wants. He’ll soon see differently. “Your Uncle has vouched for you, but, was fairly vague about your affinities?” He asks.

“Air manipulation and force fields,” I reply with a bored note to my voice that I can't help as I name my two more common affinities.

No one needs to know about my affinity with the Void. Not only is it rare as hell, only one person who I know of has it, and he is currently studying at the Blood moon academy. His Void gift works considerably differently from mine. I can use it in ways that I’m not supposed to, ways that no one has been able to use it, and I’ve done the research. My Father has an extensive library of books. Ones that are incredibly rare, and he probably shouldn’t have. I have spent hours there, poring over any fucking book that mentions the Void, people who have the gift, and what they could do with it. Nowhere did I find anything that was even close to what I can do with it.

“Impressive. Just so we are on the same page, we will not be giving you any special treatment because of who your Father is.” He tells me, and I nod as I silently seethe inside.

All this judgement of me before I’ve even had a chance to prove them differently makes me want to prove all these mother fuckers wrong. I mean, I am stuck here for the next few years at least. So I may as well make it worth my time.

“In your room, you will have a rule book. I suggest you read it. I’m just getting your schedule printed and sent to my assistant, who will bring it in when we’re done. I feel I must warn you, this place is not for the faint of heart. Everyone here is looking to be the best of the best, and if you show a sign of weakness, they’re going to take you down like the predators they are. I suggest you find someone to give you the basics in fighting techniques as soon as possible.” He warns, and once again, I nod.

Magnus is head of combat here, and I find it interesting that he’s assuming that he hasn’t trained me.

It's starting to become amusing just how much they’ve all underestimated me. It also pisses me the fuck off. I notice that he didn’t offer to train me or find someone to give me the basics. When it comes down to it, although people fear my Father and the power he wields, they also hate him, which will affect how people treat me, especially since they all think I’m some weak, spoiled princess, which couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Good, now I need you to wrap both of your hands around the spear. It will glow for a minute or two while it finds your destined team. We haven’t had anyone who hasn't found their team here or at least a part of their team. The fates always allow them to arrive simultaneously, or as close as possible. However, having said that, your admission was a little unorthodox since your Uncle works for us and holds some sway, and of course, your Father.” He states, trying to remain professional despite his glaring dislike for him. “So, don’t be surprised if you don’t find your team here.”

I clamp my mouth shut, clenching my fists and reminding myself that it would be a bad idea to stab the Headmaster, even if it was just a little bit.

He stands up and turns to the display case behind him, muttering something in Latin that momentarily makes the case glow before it pops open, and he reaches in, pulling out the spear.

The tip is made out of Black Onyx, the only material known to be able to kill any supernatural. Hence the name of the Academy. The spear's shaft is black ebony wood and decorated with runes inlaid in gold and copper. I have to admit that now he’s said it’s a possibility that I won’t get a team; I’m equal parts disappointed and relieved.

It would be better for everybody if I didn’t have a team.

The Headmaster brings the spear over to me and motions for me to stand. I finally let go of my bags and stand up, pushing down my nerves. I’ve faced far more terrifying things than a glowing stick.

“All you’ve got to do is hold it with both hands, and the name of your team leader will appear along the length of it. The team leader is always called first. Then, if I recognise who it is, I’ll have my assistant bring them in and make the introductions.”

“And if you don’t recognise the name?” I ask, not moving to take hold of the spear.

“I’ll talk to the other academies in case your team leader is there. It's improbable that will happen, though. Now, take hold of the spear.” He says firmly.

I sigh, swallowing my nerves and taking the spear in my hands. It starts to glow immediately, the light almost blinding. A name appears in less than a few seconds.

I look up from the still faintly glowing name to the Headmaster and catch his shocked look. I guess it rarely happens that fast. I feel smugly satisfied that I have a team after all.

Even though he thought I wasn’t good enough.