23. Pandora

My heart rapped against my ribs wildly as I stood inside Serpentine Stadium. I had a feeling that the training hall would always feel daunting to me with the cavernous sandstone chamber and crimson mats, the color of freshly spilled blood, that were placed haphazardly across the sandy expanse. The air was thick with sweat and the tang of blood—a pungent reminder of its purpose: Practical Applications of Demonic Feeding.

This class meant I would be subjected to shadow magic, but I hoped the magic wouldn’t be used against me again. Even seeing shadow tendrils caused me to freeze. I hated that. I mean, it made sense that I had the freeze instinct. All I could do my entire life was freeze. I never had a chance to run or fight until my magic awakened. Fighting was what I wanted my instincts to do. I didn’t want to be a victim again, but last class, I was.

Dex, Grimshaw, and Hemlock speared me with similar seething glares from their spot in the corner.

Grimshaw”s gaze was an unwanted cocktail of irritation and delirium, his green eyes rimmed with red as they peeked over the curling magical wisps rising from his fae pipe. His scowl was visible even as his lips closed over the mouthpiece again.

I wasn’t sure what I did to him, honestly. When I first saw him, I’d been…entranced, but he seemed to be as much of a jerk as the other two.

Hemlock, on the other hand, was a perfect picture of barely restrained violence. The reek of alcohol clung to him shamelessly, though the source of his inebriation was absent for once. His red eyes, glazed over but ablaze with a deep-seated hate, were fixated on my throat as if he were imagining slicing it open. Too bad for him; that hasn’t killed me yet.

I understood that reaction after what I had said to him last night under Occult Arch, but I couldn’t feel bad about what I had said. He had it coming. He was a drunk.

Dex”s stare was the most unsettling, though—his fog gray eyes held a deadliness that bordered on what I imagined obsession to look like. His gaze didn”t waver. It dissected me.

I couldn’t get a good read on Dex at all. He was relentless. I knew I should’ve been scared of him, but I wasn’t.

The three of them made me nervous. The only thing calming my frayed nerves was Reed standing next to me.

“Don’t worry about them,” he whispered, brushing his fingers against mine. Static sparked up my hand, making it tingle.

I glanced over at him, tearing my gaze from the three demons who seemed to want to make an enemy out of me. “Thank you.”

“No thanks needed, dream girl.” His violet gaze caused a jolt of excitement to thrum through me. It was filled with warmth and kindness that made my insides feel like jelly.

Ashenfell cleared his throat in the center of the room. “Welcome back. Today, we are going to discuss how important it is to keep control of our powers. As demons, our demonic magic is strong compared to other supernaturals, and it is also some of the most volatile, second only to drakes and dragons.”

“What about basilisks?” someone asked, and I had to fall in line with that question. Basilisks were strong, very strong from what I’d read.

“They’re strong, but they have immense control. Their magic is precision at its finest.” Ashenfell’s gaze narrowed at the class. “Demons do not have innate control like that, which means having our magical reserves filled is crucial. If not, our magic tends to whip out and fill it by any means necessary. Your control will bend to the needs of your magic.”

Dread coiled around my heart like the way Mother’s shadows had once, carefully and without fatality, squeezing with a relentless grip that left me gasping for a breath.

I knew loss of control. When my power awakened, I didn’t hesitate. I devoured. She may have deserved it, but I didn’t want to lose control like that again. I wanted to maintain control and seek souls on my own.

“I want everyone to give me an example of when you lost control of your powers, and I want you to identify the consequence of it.” He pointed toward a demon close to him. “You all need to understand the gravity of why feeding and keeping our reserves filled is so important. Go on.”

“I fucked my dad’s best friend, who was like family to us when I was like…eighteen,” the girl admitted, cheeks burning bright. Shame was clear on her face, and I had to respect that. Any other succubus I’d met wouldn’t feel ashamed. “My pheromones leaked out until my reserves overfilled. My, uh, Dad walked in on it. The consequence was breaking up a marriage and destroying the man’s relationship with our family. I haven’t let my reserves get that low since.”

That story there was part of the reason I wanted my fated mate. After a demon meets their fated, they didn’t find interest or temptation with anyone but them. Pheromones didn’t do anything but increase their attraction for their mate. They would get violently sick with the idea of being with anyone else.

Ashenfell nodded, his gaze softening in understanding. “Losing control isn’t something anyone wants.” He nodded to the next demon to tell their story.

A sense of unease gnawed at my gut as the class moved on, story after story. None had ended in death like mine had, though, and I only had one story of losing control. It was the only time I’d used my powers. The only time I’d filled my reserves.

When attention fell on Hemlock, he chuckled. “I let chaos loose all of the time. I’m never in fucking control. My magic goes wild every time my reserves aren’t filled up.”

With those words, the atmosphere in the chamber shifted, crackling with chaos. Hemlock”s chaos magic erupted with the ferocity of a sandstorm.

The unrestrained power of chaotic energy snaked through the air, striking and forming like his wolf, hungry for destruction. The ground quaked beneath our feet, and students cried out in alarm, scrambling to shield themselves from the chaotic onslaught.

“Typical.” Reed’s fingers tangled with mine, and I sought comfort in the hold of his hand.

“This is typical for him?”

“Unfortunately,” he murmured as we stayed standing next to each other, trying not to fall into the chaos around us.

Hemlock showed no sign of remorse, his laughter echoing through the hysteria. He reveled in the havoc he had created, his eyes gleaming with a manic edge as he danced amidst the swirling chaos.

It was only when Ashenfell grabbed his shoulder, his voice cutting through the craziness like a blade, that the chaos stilled. With a stern gaze, he gave Hemlock a look of disappointment. “Hemlock, this is unacceptable. Your recklessness with magic endangers not only yourself but your classmates as well. Chaos magic is powerful and must be wielded with care and discipline. You will stay behind after class for extra practice, and we will discuss the consequences of your actions.”

Hemlock”s laughter faded into a scowl. “Yeah, right.”

“After class,” Ashenfell barked, all seriousness in his tone. “If you won’t, I’ll have you petitioned to be removed from the academy.”

“Please do,” he all but purred out. “I’d love to leave this fucking place.”

Ashenfell exhaled a quick breath before turning to Grimshaw. “Your turn.”

He shook his head, black and white hair swinging back and forth as his pipe crackled. “I won’t do that.”

Ashenfell hissed out another breath, planting his hands on his hips as he nodded. “With the reason you’re here being for the loss of control, I know you understand the consequences. Shadowheart?” He glanced at Dex. “Care to participate appropriately?”

“Love to.” His lips curved into a twisted smirk, and his gaze locked on me. “The last time I lost control, my shadow tendrils had a mind of their own…or maybe I just lost mine. Either way, a random demon walking home from some pub ended up hacked into little cubes, bones and all. It was amazing, really. The symmetry was impeccable.”

“That’s quite the story,” Ashenfell mumbled, blinking at him with caution.

The rest of the students had small stories, nothing like that. Though, mine would be considered worse since the target was my own mother.

“Quite,” Dex mused, tapping his tongue ring against his teeth. “All I had been doing was wondering if cubing a body up like that was possible, and then my magic took control before I could stop it.”

“That must’ve been very difficult for you to come to terms with,” Ashenfell said gravely.

Dex just blinked at him. “Uh, why? I mean, impulse control lapses every time my head’s cut off. I don’t really think about that shit.”

A shiver of fear crept down my spine at his answers. How many times had his head been cut off?

Grimshaw’s pupils blew wide as he stared at me, and a moan hummed in his throat. “Fates, the fear.”

“I’m sure a few demons in here are a bit afraid of how casually you speak of killing, but sure. Enjoy the fear.” Ashenfell looked at Dex like he was crazy before shaking his head and moving on. “Nyx, let’s hear yours.”

Reed tensed and let go of my hand with a sharp pull as he nodded. “Sure.”

I stole a glance at him, running my gaze over his striking features. His round, cloudy violet eyes were focused on Ashenfell. His dark brown Afro of soft spirals framed his handsome face.

“It was recently, actually. I entered my dreamscape, and I already had another soul there. I hadn’t meant to pull her in, either. Though, I was thinking about her.” The color of his cheeks deepened. “That was the closest I had gotten to my magic losing control.”

“That doesn’t seem like losing control due to your magic reserves, though that could be the reason.” A slow smile made its way onto his face. “That is common in fated mates, actually. Any chance you have a matebond?”

Reed shifted uncomfortably on his feet, his gaze fixed on the sandy floor as if searching for answers among the grains. “I, um, I don”t think so,” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “I mean, there hasn”t been any…matebond, you know? No…bond like that.”

A tempest of emotions struck me, overwhelming in their intensity. Shock, disbelief, hope—all swirled around my brain, making me dizzy.

What if…Reed was my mate?

Fates, even thinking about it, gave my heart sharp palpitations.

My cheeks flushed with warmth.

Ashenfell’s smile faltered slightly, a flicker of disappointment crossing his features before he masked it with a polite nod. “I see,” he said, his tone notably neutral. “Well, sometimes these things take time to manifest. Perhaps the bond just hasn’t formed yet. That happens in some circumstances.”

Hemlock snorted, rolling his eyes. “Fated mates…that’s some fairytale bullshit.”

Grimshaw nodded next to him, smoking his pipe. “Yeah, it’s bullshit. Demons get the short end of the stick with the Fates when it comes to mates. To think otherwise is?—”

“Interesting,” Dex finished with a cold smile, and his gaze cut to mine. “Fated mates are an interesting concept not many demons get the pleasure of anymore. Why do you think that is?”

“I believe it’s because of all the pairings in demon society,” Reed mumbled under his breath, but everyone heard him. “It’s like spitting in the face of the Fates, and I doubt they think we’re worthy enough for them.”

Hemlock scoffed. “Really?”

“Yes, I agree with Nyx completely. Demons have a tendency to prefer purebloods and power, so they make pairings with their kids or simply for their own best interest for their political standing. Maybe the Fates are punishing demonkind for it,” Ashenfell added his two cents. “Gravesend, would you like to share your story of losing control?”

Eyes flicked to me, and my throat seized up.

There was no way in Blezen that I’d tell the other demons what I did. Especially when the consequence of me losing control was my freedom. It didn’t feel like it would add to the discussion in the way Ashenfell wanted.

I shook my head, not trusting my voice.

Ashenfell nodded. “Okay, let’s all pair up and practice feeding with control. Gravesend, come with me.”

Reed’s fingers brushed mine again as he gave me an encouraging smile. “I’ll wait for you after class.”

“Thanks.” I smiled back, trying not to think about the mates possibility, and followed Ashenfell as everyone formed pairs and began their practice.

He led me away from the bustling training area, and I couldn”t shake the sense of dread that gnawed at my insides every time I thought about feeding. We stopped in front of a utility closet tucked away in a corner of the chamber, the door slightly ajar.

“This is where you’ll be practicing.” He pushed the door open, revealing a dimly lit space that flickered with shadows from the single light orb floating in the center of the room. The air was heavy with the scent of dust.

Inside, rows upon rows of dolls lined the shelves, their eyes staring blankly ahead as if they were dead inside. However, each one pulsed with a faint aura of magic. It wasn’t a soul, not a real one, but I could sense something.

It was obvious they’d repurposed this room specifically for me.

“The dolls are enchanted to contain magically made souls within them, allowing you to practice feeding without actually killing someone else. Darkmore insisted we find something like this rather than pair you with someone in class.”

Darkmore did? My heart swelled with warmth. I was thankful for that.

I nodded, trying to smother the anxiety coursing through me.

The dolls” empty gazes stared out into nothing, and I couldn”t help but feel uneasy at the thought of drawing out those souls.

“If you need anything, you can come back and get me, though I’m not sure how much help I’ll be. Soul eaters are extremely rare, as you know. I’ve never even watched one feed,” he admitted, scratching the back of his neck as he stepped backward.

Soon after, I found myself in the closet with the door shut, and animated dolls with synthetic souls were my only company as I struggled to coax forth my powers.

I wasn’t sure about how to trigger them. I’d only activated my powers three times, once when I killed Mother, twice when I found Dreadful tossing Nebula, and thrice when I went near the dark magic circle. Two of those times, I’d been angry. The other was automatic. None of them had I been in control.

I sucked in a steady breath and focused on the magic humming deep within my soul as I stared at one of the lifeless dolls. I tried channeling anger at Mother and for everything she had done to me, but I couldn’t stew in it. There wasn’t much anger simmering in my blood from the past. It was like when my powers awakened, all of my anger and resentment for her had disappeared along with her soul.

There was sadness for what I could’ve had if my father had known about me, and there was curiosity. A desire to know why she did everything she did. But anger? Anger had raged through me like a storm until there was nothing left.

Still, I tried, but nothing was happening.

My concentration was shattered by the sudden plunge of darkness. My night vision kicked in, and my heart lurched in my chest as I remembered that cold, dark Fates-forsaken cellar. It was so dark all of the time. A lot like this. It reminded me of those sharp, painful tendrils of shadow magic that broke my flesh over and over again.

Shadows danced across the walls like those merciless scorching tendrils from my nightmares, reaching out to impale me. I could feel the echoes of the past rise within me, threatening to pull me back into the abyss of fear and despair I had known so well.

But I didn’t want to be afraid. I didn’t want to freeze, not again. I wanted to fight this feeling.

Dex and Grimshaw emerged from the shadows with matching smirks on their lips.

“Did we scare you, princess?” Grimshaw purred, completely drunk on the fear pouring out of me. “Fuck, yes, we did.”

My lips tingled with fear, and it was like a cold sludge had taken root where my blood had been as I stood there, staring at the two of them.

They’d…turned out the light?

“Sorry, trouble.” Dex tilted his head, his white blond hair, that looked like a gray blob in the darkness, moved with the motion. “But you can’t call Hemlock a drunk bastard and think that’s okay.”

“Yeah, I mean, he totally fucking is, but that doesn’t mean some pretty little princess can tell him that.” Grimshaw drew a hit from his pipe and jumped in front of me, blowing his rainbow smoke in my face. The pretty colored magic smelled like him, like blood. “Nobles and their fucking audacity.”

Their words were like a basilisk’s venom, sharp and searing.

He had called me a slut first, I wanted to scream at them. But my voice was frozen in my throat as panic rose inside.

They crowded me in that small closet, and I felt like I was chained again with threats all around me. I didn’t have to look to know my ring was black.

“Fates fucking shit.” Shock enveloped Dex’s face as he stumbled backward and tripped over an animated doll that had somehow found its way onto the floor. His ass met the floor with a crack.

“What’re you so afraid of—” Grimshaw’s words hung in the air mockingly and unfinished as his green eyes widened with fear of his own. “Oh, fuck.”

A torrent of darkness spilled from my mouth, billowing forth like a tsunami unleashed. The black mist twisted and writhed in the air, coalescing into a swirling vortex of shadows that seemed to pulse with a life of its own.

It was raw and uncontrolled, a magical manifestation of the pain that raged inside of my soul.

My body convulsed, caught in a struggle to contain my power so it didn’t eat their souls.

“Her eyes are black,” Dex croaked.

“No horns,” Grimshaw squeaked.

But even as the darkness inched toward their mouths, intent on dipping inside and consuming their souls, it paused.

Their eyes were wide with terror, staring a sure death in the face, but with every fiber of my strength, I fought to control it. Something within me registered that desire for control, and languidly, the darkness receded, sucking back past my lips and into my body where it had come from.

I staggered backward and sagged against the shelves, my body trembling with magical exhaustion, and then, everything went black.