14

T onight, the corridors are quiet as I head to the library. They aren’t usually this silent, and it makes me nervous. The screams that accompany the animalistic sounds—which accompany the demonic presences that haunt the castle—are gone.

I follow the flames from candelabras as I make my way down the spiral steps to the third floor. This is where all the professors sleep, and to the far right, there’s a tower that looks over the entire island from its terrifying height.

Someone threw themselves from it not long ago.

I’ve contemplated doing the same a few times, but I usually snap out of it within a few minutes.

Dane’s hasty exit from the room yesterday still lingers in my mind. His words. The look of betrayal on his face. The permanent ink on my skin is identical to his, yet we aren’t the same species.

I need answers, and I need them fast.

I’ve always been human. I have been for the last twenty years. I was born during fall, and my parents used to walk me in my stroller around the lake near our home. There are pictures of me as a child. I have many images of me growing up and legal documentation stating where I was born to prove my nationality.

When my parents died, I went to a foster family, and for some reason, I lasted all but two weeks before they handed me back to the system. The second family were heavy handed. The third had a son who didn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. The fourth preferred the star pupil in school, and the fifth left me at home for days before they were reported.

The sixth just didn’t like me.

My last family died, and that’s when my life had to start. Get a job. Find somewhere to stay. A tiny apartment that I could afford to rent with my low income. Learn to drive. Buy a car. Rescue a dog. Purchase a better mattress. Another car because the first one broke. Credit cards that accumulated debts. More debts. Then, one day, everything just… changed.

I ended up here.

And I don’t even know if my dog is okay. Granted, Grayson was there when I was taken and probably has a search party out hunting for me.

What if he doesn’t give me my dog back? What if they all think I’m dead and rehome Toodles?

Instead of being there, looking after my furball, I’m trapped here, so Dane’s accusations are ridiculous. I have a full memory of growing up as a human. If I was an immortal creature, I’d know. I’d summon whatever power I had and smack him in the face with it.

I’m powerless. That’s why I was able to go into the diamond, into the other world with the giant vortex in the sky where the scary beast with horns was. That’s why I was able to collect the scroll Dane wanted. He said himself that only someone without any powers could enter.

Is that not proof enough?

But the tattoo…

We have the exact same tattoo. Albeit mine is tiny compared to the one stretching across his entire back. But still. They’re the same.

When I reach the library, I’m relieved to see it’s unlocked. Usually, the librarian tends to lock it, to keep people like me out, but recently, she’s been leaving it open. Accidentally or intentionally, I have no idea.

I use the glow from the moonlight shining through the windows to walk through the rows of overstuffed bookshelves. My fingers glide over each spine, collecting dust and God knows what else. This is the same route I’ve been taking since I started coming here. And because of that, the same books have multiple track lines from me touching them as I walk.

I wipe my hands together and reach up to where I’ve been hiding Dane’s father’s book, but when I push aside the textbooks, it’s gone.

My brows furrow, and I chew my lip nervously. I left multiple notes in it. A list of facts about Dane, what I know of his realm and his powers.

Did I put it somewhere else? Poppy did say she had a look but promised she put it right back where she got it. My gaze trails over the entire shelf, and all the ones next to it, but I give up.

Whoever has it better not show him my list of reasons why I can’t be attracted to him. The most important one: Dane is cruel. I also don’t think I can stomach him approaching me with it clenched in his hand, questioning why I drew him with a huge forehead, a small dick, and warts all over his face.

I huff and walk to the back of the library to see if the librarian put it in the returns box, freezing when I see Valin. My eyes widen. He’s not alone, and this is definitely not a scene I need to witness.

The professor has one of the students by the hair, bent over a desk, skirt up to her waist, heels on, her shirt and blazer on the ground. He’s fully clothed, with only his pants unbuttoned.

The book of the Shadow Realm sits on the table, open, and Valin reads the pages at the same time as thrusting into her.

He pounds into her relentlessly, and in my statue-like state, I struggle to move my feet in the opposite direction. She whimpers, and he goes faster, closing the book and throwing his head back on a strangled groan.

It’s not until he pulls the person up by the hair that I eventually take a step back, seeing his canines lengthen into fangs. And when he sinks them into her throat, and she moans in pleasure, I spin on my heels and run from the library.

I don’t stop until I reach my room, locking the door and hiding under my duvet until I somehow fall asleep.

The same dream comes to me. Fire. Screams. Begging. A flash, and I’m in a diner with a handsome man asking me for waffles.

I wake up in a puddle of sweat and confusion an hour before my class starts.

Within that hour, Dane disregards me four times. I try to approach him in the corridor, but he shrinks into the air and vanishes. I call him, and there’s no answer. I’m not sure if he does it intentionally or he just has no idea how to pick up a call.

He straight up ignores me at breakfast when I tell him he’s acting like a child, and when I attempt to stop him before he escapes into his changing room, he shrugs out of my grip and slams the door in my face.

And now I need to sit through combat training with Valin telling me to square my stance and to not leave myself open. Dane’s attempt at making me his partner—despite everything he’s done to avoid me today—went out the window the second Valin grabbed my arm and stared him down, as if to remind him he was a professor and wouldn’t be overpowered by a student.

Dane had just laughed, so now I’m stuck between Dane scowling at me every few minutes and flinching as Valin comes up behind me and hisses a “good girl” in my ear while turning my hips to the side.

Dane nearly snaps Orsen in half with a blow to the chest, the sound ricocheting off the cave walls. Even without using his powers, Dane’s tight fist is enough to knock Orsen across the arena.

“What the fuck?” he grits, holding his midsection as he tries to get to his feet. “Motherfucker.”

“Pay attention,” is Dane’s response as he walks to him, offering his hand to his friend and yanking him to his feet.

Valin tells everyone to take five minutes since Orsen can barely stand, and I sit down with the twins, a layer of sweat on my skin.

Poppy scowls at her sister. “I told you not to hit my face,” she says, crossing her arms. The red mark under her eye is swelling from Mel’s right hook. “Careful—I might accidentally sleep with Orsen.”

“Go for it. You’ll be greatly disappointed.”

Orsen throws his hands up. “The fuck is everyone’s problem with me?”

Today’s lesson is fist fighting, so bare-knuckle boxing essentially. Honestly, every time I punch Valin, my wrists feel close to snapping. My knuckles are red, the skin close to splitting.

I might as well be smashing my fist into a wall.

Once I drink some water, class resumes. I can feel Dane’s eyes on me, but I ignore him, like he’s been doing to me all day, giving Valin all my attention as he yells at me to guard myself.

I try to go for him, but he slaps me. Actually slaps my cheek. I grit my teeth, glaring. Remembering the way he touched me in my bedroom and nearly made me fail the entire academy, I throw my fist and catch him square in the jaw as hard as I can.

The searing burn across my knuckles comes first, and I silently scream as I cup my hand to my chest. He chuckles, pats my shoulder, and tells the class to get back into their stances.

Valin stands in front of me, looking from me to Dane then back to me. “I would like to warn you about Dane again, but I don’t think you’ll listen.”

I scoff. “After the way you nearly ruined my chance of leaving here? Keep your advice to yourself.”

His jaw hardens. “I’m a professor here.”

“Congratulations.”

My back hits the ground with force as Valin flips me, and all the air whooshes out of my lungs, my vision blurring. I gasp, gripping his wrist as he holds me in place by the throat.

He stares down at me. “Your tongue will get you into bad situations, Miss Winters. I highly recommend you use it wisely.”

The insinuation isn’t lost on me. Neither is the way his eyes dart down to my mouth, to my heaving chest and parted legs beneath him.

An immense wave of rage washes over me, so much anger that I’m not sure how to contain it. Fire. Rage. Pain. I picture Valin in flames and screaming, but in reality, he’s looking down on me like everyone else in this school.

Orsen yells, telling Dane to stop being so brutal.

Valin’s eyes are red, like the blood he drank from that student last night, trying to break me. If I was an immortal with powers, I’d snap him in half.

The hold on my throat goes from tight and gripping to gentle, and he caresses my pulse with a look of desire in his eyes. It feels wrong, so I shove his chest. “Get off me.”

He lets me up, chuckling to himself and giving Dane a raised brow.

“Now, everyone. We shall begin weaponry. Who here knows how to wield a sword?”

Orsen shakily lifts his hand, wincing still. “Question.”

“What?” Valin snaps.

“Do humans use swords?”

A few students look at me, and I cross my arms. “Not really. They did hundreds of years ago before guns were a thing.”

“Can you wield a sword, little Seraphine?”

I shake my head at Valin. “No.”

“Great. Everyone get back into your pairs.”

As I fix myself, the twins giving me a concerned look, I glance over to Dane. He’s glaring at Valin. The professor shows a student from a different class how to hold a sword properly before he comes over to me.

The hatred there, in his eyes, isn’t about Valin being in my room or the way he shows me how to hold the handle of the small sword. Something happened between them, and Dane despises Valin for it. My nosey self wants to know what that is.

An hour later, Orsen can barely hold himself up without begging for mercy, and Dane is standing unbothered and unscathed with the blade of his sword resting on his shoulder. The twins are limping, but surprisingly, I feel fine. Looking around, I see some students are bleeding.

I grimace at the slash down Orsen’s arm as he holds it to his chest.

Despite this being about human combat, no one understands that we don’t have powers, or run around our realm with swords longer than our limbs.

“May I speak with you after class?” Valin says to me, taking my arm so he can pull me aside. “In private?”

“You may not.”

“You might not think so, but I’m trying to help you.” His eyes flicker to Dane. “There are some people in this academy who cannot be trusted. People who keep secrets and lie.”

I look at the way he’s gripping my arm. “Remove your hold on me, Professor, before I report you.”

I feel penetrating eyes on me as I shrug out of Valin’s grip and catch up to my friends, all three of us stepping over Orsen. Dane just surrounded him with what I can only assume are bats and dropped him on his head.

For no reason.

Orsen is strong—he has his own shelf in the history section and apparently battled regularly in his realm. But up against Dane? He’s as good as dust.

That shouldn’t make me feel things.

I watch as Dane gathers a black mass in his hand and grabs a fistful of Orsen’s hair.

“Fine! I give up! Fucking stop,” Orsen yells. He lifts a hand to try to block whatever his friend throws at him, desperate for it to end. “If you hit me again, I’ll never show you how to send a message again.”

I try not to laugh, but my body shakes, and the sound escapes from my lips. It catches Dane’s attention, and his head snaps up so he can glare at me. Anytime he’s actually deigned to reply to my messages, it’s taken hours, and his response is usually one word and pointless. He still struggles on how the keyboard works, has no idea how to take a picture, and keeps failing the mortal quizzes in class.

“As much as Orsen knows how to fuck, seeing him begging for mercy is a little nauseating,” Mel says.

“Um, hi? I can hear you?” Orsen shakes his head. “This entire day is a nightmare.”

His tall friend doesn’t even help him up. Dane throws his arm out to the side, and the mass that was building in his palm fires into the arena wall. He turns his back to me and the twins, and cracks his neck to each side as he whips his top off and wipes his face with it.

I gulp, gawking at his impressive back muscles covered in ink. Openly watching him as he tosses his top and says something to one of the girls, and she blushes.

Blushes.

What did he say?

My hands fist at my sides.

Naturally everyone will find him hot. With the muscles and sweat and wet hair, it’s hard not to find him immensely attractive. I glance around the arena, and, of course, everyone’s looking at him.

But Valin is watching me, a warning in his eyes about the dark prince. I give him my own look that says to stay out of my way, then I glance over to see Dane heading to destroy Orsen again. He swears to himself and braces for impact.

His silence is annoying me.

Our deadline is tomorrow, and I need to somehow kiss him three more times. But he can’t even look at me.

What’s the deal if I’m not a human though? Why does it annoy him so much to think I’m not? It changes nothing. We still need to do these assignments, and when we both get off this island, we’ll be going our separate ways.

We’ll never see each other again.

Although I do think they’ll make a documentary about him. He’s going to try for world domination, and someone’s going to wrap him up and label him as a crazy person. For either trying to summon shadows when his card is declined, or for seeing a cat for the first time and attempting to strangle it.

Knowing Dane, neither are unlikely.