17. Pandora

Agroan tore from my throat as my eyelids pried open like they were led weights. My vision blurred with distortion, and every sound of Dreadful moving on her side of the room felt like a shadow tendril piercing through my skull, amplifying the agonizing throbbing at my temples.

I’d spent the majority of last night on the beach in Reed’s dreamscape. I couldn’t get over the way the waves crashed against the shore. I’d read so much purple prose about the beach, so I expected a lot. It was my guilty pleasure to reread the pretty descriptive lines of the never-ending ocean out of the books I’d gotten from Mother.

I hadn’t expected to see the shorelines in real life. Technically, I still hadn’t since it was a dream. But I wasn’t going to get hung up on that technicality. The experience meant a lot to me.

Reed’s cotton candy scent had drenched the air, and I even woke up smelling it. That was the one thing that didn’t make me nauseous.

Blinking away the haze, I winced against the harsh morning light filtering in from the window, temples throbbing with a relentless rhythm that matched the pounding in my skull. “Mmf.”

“Fates,” Dreadful gasped. “What in Kalista happened to you?”

Clutching my temple with one hand, I attempted to push through the haze, sitting up and placing Nebula on my pillow. “Migraine.”

“Migraine?” she parroted, pausing her morning routine to glance at me. “You’re a demon. We don’t get migraines.”

“Unless…” I croaked, prompting her to remember the one time we do, in fact, deal with ailments.

“Our magic reserves are dangerously low or empty,” she finished with a scowl on her lips.

“Yeah.” I sucked in a gasp of air, wishing the pain in my skull would end.

She heaved a heavy sigh before shuffling over toward her bag. “I have a water I haven’t opened if you want it. Your voice sounds worse than usual.”

I swung my legs over my bed, feeling the soles of my feet hit the rough stone as I stood up. Each movement sent shockwaves of agony coursing through my brain. “You don’t have to.”

“Listen…” She paced over and held out an unopened water from the cafeteria to me, her lips pulled into a thin line. “I’m not used to living with someone, and to be frank, you’re weird.”

I didn’t bother responding to that as I accepted the water and unscrewed the top, taking a greedy drink. The lukewarm water tasted like dry minerals as it trickled down my throat, and I winced before closing it tightly.

I hated warm water. Cold water had become an obsession of mine ever since I’d been rescued from that cellar. It was ironic, though, since lukewarm water had been a respite of mine until I found out about the luxury of how good water could be when it was cold.

Then I remembered that Hunter had gifted me an infinitely cold water bottle.

“It’s just hard for me to be considerate,” she admitted, frowning. “I’ve always had everything I wanted, and I’ve been told many times how important nobility and purebred demons are my entire life. I don’t have to respect anyone else’s boundaries except my parents’, but I realize that I may have crossed a line last night.”

“May have?” I placed the bottle she’d given me on my nightstand before digging through my bag and pulling out the one Hunter gave me. “You did.”

“Yeah…I did,” she admitted again. “I’m…sorry,” she choked out the last word, expression twisting like it actually pained her to say it.

Life was too short to hold grudges. I’d read that once.

“You’re forgiven.” I brought my bottle to my lips and felt the cold liquid pour down my throat. The scratchy and achy pain dissolved as the water went down, and if it hadn’t been enchanted, I knew I would’ve drank the entire thing. “But don’t ever touch Nebula again, or else I won’t be able to control my reaction.”

“Right.” She stared at the bottle in my hand. “Where’d you get something like that? It’s enchanted, isn’t it?”

“Hunter got it for me, and yeah, it is.” I placed the crystal lid over the bottle and put it back in my bag.

“Hunter Darkmore?”

I nodded.

She inhaled sharply before turning and going back to her routine of getting ready for the day. “Why is Darkmore getting you gifts? Are you fucking him?”

I flinched as I moved over to rummage through my clothes. “Hunter’s nice. He just noticed that I liked cold water.” My heart swelled with warmth. “He’s really kind.”

She groaned. “Your counselor really goes above and beyond, huh? I wish Ravencliff would do that. What do you talk about in your sessions? Ravencliff just lets me gossip about everything. I think she’s as interested in societal fuck ups as I am, you know?”

I made a little noise of acknowledgment before I answered her question. “We talk about life before.”

“Before what?” She scrunched her nose up as she pulled on a pink strappy dress. “Your clothes are too cute, and I’m trying really hard to respect the boundary of not just wearing your clothes.”

“Before I killed Mother and Daryl found me,” I stated simply and honestly as I picked out a satin cream blouse with subtle ruffles on the sleeves and a black a-line skirt that hit at the knee. I’d still have to wear a wrap, though. Just in case.

I kept the wrap on last night because I didn’t want Dreadful to come back and catch a glimpse of my scars. I would make sure to constantly wear it now since I found out how she was. Since we lived together, she had plenty of opportunities to see me without it. The wrap on its own caused gossip and rumors to circulate. I didn’t want to think about what the scars themselves would make the other demons think.

“You killed your mom?” she exclaimed, whirling around to gape at me.

“Mother wasn’t…nice.” I set out the clothes on the bed and grabbed some new dressing before sitting on the edge. Wasn’t nice was the grossest understatement of the century.

Dreadful slowly moved over to me with a fake, concerned smile that sent chills down my spine. “Oh my. So you weren’t just hidden away from high society until now?”

Furrowing my brows, I shook my head. When had I ever suggested that to be the case? Then again, nobody ever asked and instead just had preconceived assumptions about me. I figured it wasn’t worth the headache.

“You’re only a charity case. A noble charity case.” She hummed, tapping her finger against her glossy lips. “I didn’t think that existed. Not that that’s a bad thing, of course. You’re still nobility by birthright. Halfway.”

Glancing down, I noticed that my ring was still black. “My father is still Daryl.”

She blinked her long eyelashes at me. “Absolutely. I’m going to head to class.” She plastered a smile on her lips before heading out the door without much of a glance back. “See you there!”

“Fates.” I ran a hand through my hair with a sigh. It probably wasn’t the best idea to tell her about where I’d come from, but at least she didn’t know any of the gruesome details.

It wasn’t a secret, but I had a feeling that not being a purebred noble would come to alter her perception of me, not that I really cared one way or the other.

Golden rays of the morning sun crept through the window, casting a soft hue over the room as I pushed to my feet and made sure the door was locked.

I discarded the clothes I’d slept in and changed my underwear, wishing the dorms had connected bathrooms to the rooms themselves instead of the communal ones we had. I’d read that most academies for adult supernaturals had their own bathrooms, but not this one. It was disappointing. I had been taking my showers during the night since I didn’t want anyone to see my scars.

I slipped the skirt on, the thick fabric gliding over my skin, and I pulled on the blouse, buttoning the pearlized buttons until each one was in place. The ruffled sleeves fell just below my elbows.

I paused, glancing at Nebula’s skull. He was still asleep.

Taking a deep breath, I sat back on the bed and extended my leg. With trembling fingers, I carefully unfurled the fabric wrapped around my thigh, revealing deep, jagged scars that encircled my skin. Each scar was reminiscent of the shadow tendrils that embedded into my flesh and cut into my bone.

My fingertips traced each raised and indented scar, each line a record of the pain inflicted by my mother”s unforgiving shadows that might have very well been associated with dark magic.

The memories surged forward, along with the harsh words that reminded me of how defective she thought I was, the punishments for not using shadow magic that knew no bounds, and a childhood filled with isolation, chained in that Fates-forsaken cellar.

My breath lodged in my throat with a silent sob. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the memories to go away, but they lingered just like the scars she’d left behind.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I forced my eyes open and reached for the fresh dressing to cover them. I might not have been able to wipe the memories of her from my mind, but I could cover the damage she’d done to me. With hands that wouldn’t stop trembling, I wrapped my thigh, making the bandage snug but not too tight as it became a shield against the academy’s prying eyes.

Once I was finished, I took a quick glance in the mirror that Dreadful hung on the back of our door. Seeing my reflection would never get old. I’d wondered for years what I looked like, and the only time I caught a glimpse was in the reflection of my blood.

I looked poised in these clothes that Daryl had insisted on buying me. But beneath the fabric, I knew the scars were still there.

I turned on my heels and strode back to my bed, making sure I put Nebula and the enchanted crystal bottle into my bag and headed for the door.

As I left Bound Dormitory, I made a vow not to let Mother’s abuse dictate the path I would choose for myself. I wasn’t only her daughter; I was also Daryl’s. But even with the optimistic words I told myself, a sense of foreboding hung heavy in the air.

The distinct scent of iron mingled with the dry desert breeze, burning my nostrils as I approached Cryptic Altar on the way to Demon Basics. The tang of freshly spilled blood wafted toward me, making my stomach churn with unease. The last time I’d smelled so much blood, it was mine. A throng of students clustered around the altar, near a familiar magic circle that was formed by the dark blood soaked into the sand. My peers’ expressions were etched with a mixture of fear and fascination.

Where had I seen that circle before? It certainly wasn’t in the textbooks from this academy.

Steeling myself, I cautiously made my way through the crowd toward the other shadowy figures surrounding Cryptic Altar. The low murmur of hushed voices filled the air, punctuated by the occasional whispered theories that sent shivers down my spine.

As I moved closer, the heat of the desert sun beat down upon my skin. When I finally remembered where I had seen that magic circle, my blood ran cold.

It was in one of the dark magic texts I’d been given to read by my mother, and that magic circle had been a focal point of at least five chapters. It was a magic circle that called forth tangible dark magic. The oppressive weight of the dark magic circle seemed to press in on me from all sides, suffocating me with its malevolent energy.

My grip on the strap of the bag tightened painfully.

Suddenly, Daryl and Hunter were in front of me, blocking the magic circle with their eyes alight with concern. The sharp sound of their feet shifting on the sandy ground echoed in my ears, drowning out the muffled whispers of the onlookers.

“Dark magic,” I croaked, reaching up and resting my palm on the base of my throat.

“What?” Daryl asked softly, reaching out and patting my shoulder a couple of times in greeting.

“Do you have the bottle I gave you?” Hunter gestured to my bag.

I nodded, pulling it out and gulping down a few drinks. “Thanks again for that. It’s been really helpful already.”

“You gave my daughter a gift?” Daryl turned to Hunter, and they shared a brief moment where Daryl looked murderous, and Hunter looked defensive.

“Why can’t I give her a gift?”

Daryl’s glare speared him.

“I really like it,” I murmured, taking another swig of ice water.

“That’s great, Pandora.” Daryl’s expression softened, his gaze momentarily flicking toward me before sharpening as he gestured toward the water bottle. “You know I could always get you another. What do you say?”

I frowned, tilting my head. “But I already have this one, and I like it. I don’t need another.”

Daryl let out what sounded like a wounded whine as he shot Hunter another searing look.

Hunter held his hands up in defense. “Is it such a problem that I want to make Pandora’s life easier?”

Daryl crossed his arms with a huff, the air blowing a piece of his black hair that had been in his face upward. “Of course not, but you better not make it harder for her, either.”

“How would he do that?” I blinked up at them before taking another drink and placing the bottle safely back in the bag.

“I wouldn’t,” Hunter urged, giving me a look that was filled with sincerity.

“Why is that circle here?” I changed the topic, and this time, my voice was less scratchy and with more volume.

They shared another look, this one far less aggressive.

“What do you know about the circle?” Daryl rubbed his jaw, his long black hair falling over his shoulder.

“Dark magic circle,” I murmured, glancing over Hunter to see it. “It looks like a shadow ritual with the focal point of the magic circle to summon tangible dark magic to the physical world. I’d only thought it to be theorized.”

“Fates,” Hunter hissed, gathering his hair up and tying it into a bun on top of his head with a tie that was on his wrist. “That was oddly specific.”

“How do you know about dark magic circles?” Daryl’s eyes were wider than usual.

A prickling sensation crept up my spine as if shadow tendrils trailed icy tendrils along my skin. The dark magic circle pulsated with malevolent energy, sending ripples of discord through the air.

My demonic senses, finely aware of the ebb and flow of magical energies, screamed in protest at the presence of this type of magic.

A man interrupted our conversation, tearing my attention from the circle as he came over from where he’d been next to the altar with a smile on his face. His brown curls caught the sunlight, creating a halo of golden highlights atop his head. “Hi, I’m Craven. The incubus representative on the council.” His blue eyes were wide as he flicked them between me and Hunter. Then, his smile quirked into a smirk. “Hunter has told me so much about you.”

“Has he?” Daryl grumbled, crossing his arms. “She’s my daughter. I’ve talked about her, too, you know.”

“Of course, Death.” Craven bowed respectfully.

“Don’t forget that she’s my student,” Hunter added grudgingly.

“Hi,” I answered Craven’s greeting politely. “I’m P-Gravesend.”

“Oh, I know.” His eyes twinkled as he momentarily flicked them toward Hunter.

What did that mean?

“What did you find?” Daryl barked the question, and the amusement drained from Craven’s face as he switched into business mode.

“Dark magic circle with remnants of dark magic,” he stated, glancing over his shoulder at the circle. “Seems like a dark ritual, but there are no signs of warlock or witch magic. Only demonic. It’s bizarre.”

My body tensed, muscles coiling like a spring ready to snap. A bitter taste filled my mouth, a metallic tang that mirrored the scent of blood hung heavy on my tongue.

“Have her eyes always been black like yours?” Craven muttered to Daryl.

“No,” Hunter replied for him. “They’ve always been red.”

“How do you know that?” Daryl grumbled. “I mean, you’re right, but still.”

Nausea churned in the pit of my stomach, a visceral reaction to the tainted magic that permeated my space.

My feet started to move on their own, and as I reached the edge of the dark magic circle, a searing pain lanced through my head. It was a sharp, stabbing agony that threatened to drive me to my knees.

“Pandora?” Daryl’s voice spoke, but I couldn’t really hear him.

“Pandora, what’s going on?” Hunter’s voice made my magic swirl with happiness, but I wasn’t sure why.

Colors danced before my eyes, swirling in a maelstrom of blacks and grays as my magical energy clashed with the malevolent forces at play.

“I don’t know.” My hands trembled as I reached out, fingers brushing against an invisible barrier that separated me from the remnants of the dark magic. “But I need to…”

A surge of power coursed through me, an electric shock that left me gasping for breath.

“Everyone get back!” I heard someone yell in the distance.

Black wisps of smoke slipped from between my lips, swirling and dancing in the air before converging toward the dark magic circle stained with blood in the sand before me.

A sense of panic clutched my heart. Just like when my magic went for my mother, my control slipped through my grasp like sand through fingers.

There were so many demons around, including ones I had become fond of, like Daryl and Hunter.

“Focus, Pandora.” Two warm hands gently rested on my shoulders. “Deep breath. Focus on channeling your magic to do what you want. Breathe it back in. You’re alright.”

Feeling Daryl’s reassuring presence, I gritted my teeth and tried breathing it back inside of me. But the magic resisted, writhing and twisting in defiance of my will. The black smoke billowed and swirled, evading my attempts to control it.

“You’ve got this,” Hunter murmured, his breath hitting my ear. “Come on, starlight. You’re in control.”

I was in control. I was in control.

I’d read about affirmations being magic spells and that all supernaturals could will their magical essence to make it happen, so that was what I did.

With a determined inhale, I willed my magic back into my body, the overwhelming weight of my power fading as I regained control.

As the last clouds of darkness dissipated, relief flooded me.

What the Fates was that?

My gaze snagged on two demons in particular as I filled my lungs with a deep breath. Dex and Grimshaw leaned against the building of Reform Hall as they watched me so intently I could feel it. Dex’s lips curled into an amused smirk, but Grimshaw’s eyes were hard with hidden fear.

How much had they seen? And why did Dex look so interested? Why did Grimshaw look afraid?

“You need to go back to your dorm room and rest.” Daryl’s voice snapped me back to reality, and his face was a perfect mixture of worry and overprotectiveness within his black eyes as I faced him. “No soul eater has ever had their powers manifest like that.”

I nodded, hoping he knew that I acknowledged the gravity of the situation. I knew I had to master my magic before it spiraled out of control. I really did understand how dangerous I was. “That is how I...how my power manifested the first time. I didn”t mean to; it just happened.”

“Woah,” Craven mumbled.

“Gravesend,” Blackthistle, our headmaster, strode over to us. “Are you okay? I’ve never seen anything quite like that before.”

Hunter’s spine straightened, but he kept his lips pressed together as he stared at me with worry.

Daryl paled. ”We need to find a way for you to feed properly, to control your abilities,” he said with a steely determination. “Just keep learning while at the academy. This is the best place for you.”

“I will,” I rasped, frowning.

I’d told him how my magic came in the form of black smoke before, but maybe knowing and witnessing it were two different things?

“Perhaps you should go lay down and rest?” Daryl squinted his eyes as he stared at me. “You’re exhausted, and not feeding is starting to mess with you.”

“I know,” I agreed, flicking my hair over my shoulder. “But if I’m going to learn, I need to be in class.”

”I”ll take care of her,” Hunter assured Daryl, stepping forward and hovering his hand over the small of my back. ”We”ll figure this out together.”

“Death, I need your eye on something over here,” Blackthistle stated, his green eyes sliding over me with intent regard. “The scale and ward seem unaffected, but something is different with the altar.”

Daryl’s expression hardened as he adjusted his stance on the sandy ground. “I’m sorry, Pandora. I wanted to spend time teaching you feeding techniques. Unfortunately, with this dark magic business, my hands are tied.” With a heavy sigh, he nodded. “Take her to class, Darkmore. We can handle this situation until you get back. Just…keep her safe.”

Hunter dipped his head in respect to my father. “Of course.”

“Nice meeting you!” Craven waved at me, and I returned the wave with a smile on my lips even though my thoughts were roaring louder than the blood in my ears.

“Let’s go.” As Hunter’s hand pushed gently on my back, he guided me through the throngs of demons with wide eyes and parted lips, away from the altar.

It was more than just Daryl’s gaze following us. Dex and Grimshaw kept their eyes glued to me as Hunter and I walked past them and into Reform Hall.

“How do you know so much about dark magic?” he asked as we made our way to Respa’s class.

I nibbled on my bottom lip as we walked across the rough stone floor, but my skin crawled with the knowledge that I had been so close to dark magic. “I know a lot about it thanks to several books I read when I was under Mother’s care.”

He paused, dropping the volume of his voice. “Books about dark magic are banned in Kalista. Only supernaturals of a certain clearance have access to it. That’s above my pay grade on the Demon Council at the moment,” he told me seriously, running a hand through his dark blond locks. “Maybe you can tell me more about it.”

I nodded. What had Mother been doing with so many banned books regarding dark magic?

An image of her dripping shadows assaulted my brain, and I flinched. There was no way that was a coincidence. She must’ve been involved in some way with dark magic. I knew that. But how?

Mother’s words filled my head in waves.

You’re not good enough for our greater plan!

You’re nothing but a broken, worthless demon!

Darkness was injected into us, but you’re not living up to the expectations they have for you—for us!

I’m going to die because of you if you don’t fucking feed!

Worthless.

“Pandora?” Hunter murmured.

Reality whooshed back in as I blinked a few more times. We stood in front of room 103 for my Demon Basics class.

“Thanks for walking me.” I reached out and squeezed his forearm to show that I was thankful…also because, for some reason, I wanted to show him affection. Fates, I was so touch starved. “I’ll tell you anything you want to know. I remember almost everything that was in those books. Mother made me memorize them front to back.”

“You have no idea how helpful that is, but I’m sorry to make you remember things from your past.” His jaw set in a hard line as he reached out, tucking a piece of my hair behind my ear. “I’ll see you later, starlight.”

He pulled away and strode back the way we had come, and watching him leave carved out a hollow crevice in my chest.

I entered the classroom and slipped into the seat next to Reed, who was in the same spot as he was last time.

His face lit up as he noticed me, and his cotton candy scent made my heart swell with happiness. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Of course she’s okay,” Nightwind scoffed, leaning down from his seat behind us. “When are you going to stop hanging out with Nyx and upgrade to me, Gravesend?”

My nose crinkled in disgust. “With that attitude? Never. Besides, I happen to like Reed’s company.”

He huffed and leaned back in his seat. “You’ll come around. Besides, I saw that you came in with Darkmore. That makes more sense than him.”

“Darkmore? The counselor that stepped in yesterday?” Reed’s tongue swept over his bottom lip. “Is everything okay?”

I rolled my eyes at Nightwind and moved my attention to Reed again. “Not necessarily.”

His gaze softened, and he put his elbows on his desk and leaned his cheek in his fist as he stared at me. “What’s going on?”

“The Demon Council is investigating a dark magic circle around Cryptic Altar,” I whispered with a frown.

Reed’s brows shot up. “So that’s why there were so many people gathered around it. I didn’t think to check it out because I didn’t want to be late, but that’s crazy. Dark magic…”

“I know,” I murmured, cheeks heating as his violet eyes bore into mine. Reed made me feel like he saw me—like he really saw who I was. I loved that. “By the way, I really enjoyed last night.”

Nightwind choked behind us, but I ignored him. I really didn’t know why he was trying to get close to me.

Reed’s cheeks flushed as he smiled wider. “I did, too. I’ll take you anywhere you want as long as I’m capable. I could talk to you for hours.”

“I feel the same way.”

The class fell silent as Respa glided to the front of the room with an air of authority. Half of the class was still absent, and dark magic was the topic circulating right now. Respa wasted no time delving into the subject, and I respected that.

”Today, we need to discuss dark magic.” Respa”s voice was firm, carrying a tone of warning. ”This is not a common topic of study for this class or demons in general, but it’s necessary right now. Dark magic is evil. No supernatural being has ever survived being infected with it. Not without it being pulled out of their body at the early stages. It rots you from the inside out until that magic is the only thing keeping you alive.”

She described the physical signs of a dark magic infection the same way I remembered it explained in an old text I’d read, painting a grim picture of a sickly gray complexion, sunken eyes with black bags, and pulsating black veins visible beneath the skin.

Reed’s hand carefully moved on top of mine on top of my desk, and I laced my fingers through his and squeezed.

I never thought physical touch could be so reassuring and comforting, but it was. It made me wonder what I missed out on. Mother never touched me unless it was to cause harm; even then, she always used her shadows. I didn’t remember a time she actually touched me with her hands.

“The most famous dark magic case happened during Kalista’s Second War. The dark magic took form inside of an arctic wolf shifter after his rejected mate, an arctic fox, wanted to destroy the bond, so a witch helped her perform a dark magic ritual,” she explained, but I already knew about that case because of my love for the romance novel written after the war depicting it.

The author was one of Wren’s mates, after all.

“Aren’t you talking about that love story, Fate Hollow Academy?” a student asked, mirth in their voice.

“Yeah, the main character had seven mates,” someone gushed. “All fated! That lucky fox. I want seven mates to fawn over me!”

The class dissolved into laughter before Respa rolled her eyes. “There happens to be a lot of historical truth to that book. Not one event is fiction, and we know the romance because of the author—Rhett Everhart. He’s the main character, Wren Clearwater’s, mate.”

Rhett was an incubus, and he actually used to be the incubus representative on the Demon Council before a scandal made his father take over. I wasn’t sure when his father had stepped down, but I knew he had since Craven had the position now.

I’d become entranced by their story when I was bound in the cellar from the first moment I’d read it. Not only was it my first book that told a story about romance and adventure but their love for each other kept me wishing for my own fated mate or mates. It was a fantasy I allowed myself to hold on to.

“How did they fight the dark magic?” someone asked. “I haven’t read it.”

Respa winced, but she held a passion in her eyes as she spoke about the history of the war, specifically the role dark magic played in it. “They tried to fight it, but Wren Clearwater ended up infected by her rejected mate’s dark magic. She and her mates had to replace the rejected bond to expel the dark magic from the wolf. There are theories that the wolf shifter would’ve died soon anyway. He was a key player in the war, and they needed to get the dark magic out of Wren for the war, though.”

“What’s all of that mean for us?” another demon in the front asked in a wobbly tone.

”Dark magic is quite frankly terrifying,” Respa emphasized. ”It defies all of the laws of magic. The Demon Council is actively working to make sure no more dark magic circles are created on campus and in the Demon Capital.”

She spent the rest of class answering questions before an alert notification popped up on our tablets, letting us know that all classes were dismissed today and tomorrow.

Respa gave us another stern warning to stay vigilant with the new spread of dark magic before letting us go.

Reed squeezed my hand again, but my head was filled with theories of dark magic and my mother. A sinking pit formed in my gut as I realized we hadn’t even finished the first week of classes before something had gone wrong. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a bad omen.