21

D ane Dalton’s fingers were nearly inside me.

Before I can even summon the confidence to walk to dance practice, I tell the twins to meet me in the courtyard in twenty minutes and quickly rush to my dorm room. I hold my hand to my chest as the tightening gets worse, a throbbing in my head making it nearly impossible to see straight.

Somehow, I make it without passing out.

I slam the door shut, press my back to it, and breathe.

In. Out. In. Out.

Thighs clenching together, I try to ease the tension between them, only adding to the frustration of my brain on fire. My knuckles turn white with the death grip I have on my pleated skirt, my eyes closed, images of him all over me running wild in my mind.

They feel like memories of a life I haven’t lived. They completely overwhelm me.

A young boy with white hair sitting across from me at the extremely large and golden dining table.

The wink he sends me as he and his parents leave our castle.

A kiss on the cheek that has me blushing all over.

Me smiling at the young boy, both of us teenagers. Him gathering the confidence to speak with me despite his nerves . I press my palms to my eyes and beg them to stop, the unknown scenes unfolding in my mind at rapid speed. His soft, tattooed hand taking mine as he helps me onto a tree swing; me letting out a giggle when I fall off and drag him down with me.

The design inked onto my hand transferring to his as fire engulfs us.

My back slides down the door as a wave of grief hits me. Undeniable loss, unexplainable despair that has my heart accelerating. Death. Fire. More death. Screams fill my ears, and no matter how loud I let my own out, they’re louder.

Breathe.

Breathe, Seraphine.

Don’t let it win, my love. Fight. You need to fight.

Stay with me.

Please—stay with me.

A large mass appears in my mind, battling an unknown presence with swords and immense power with a deafening roar of victory, and then everything is quiet.

And I’m in my room.

Confused, I keep inhaling and exhaling, wondering why I was just panicking over nothing. My head, eyes, and ears ache, but I don’t know why. Or why I’m sitting on the floor with my back against the door with a blank mind.

What just happened? Did I pass out?

I stand with furrowed brows and fix my hair, straightening my skirt and shirt, still reeling from what nearly happened with Dane. The feeling is dominating how lost I am, wanting to know why I was on the ground yet thinking of him everywhere.

He was so close to touching me in a class full of students. And I was going to let him. I wanted him to move aside my panties and sink two fingers inside me. I wanted it so much, and he knew it. He could feel the wetness on my thighs, the ache in my core that vibrated between us. He would have smelled my arousal, the neediness, my desire to have the shadow prince bring me to orgasm while surrounded by immortal creatures.

I glance at the black silhouettes occupying my walls. They are calm, collected, and watch me as I begin to pace the full length of my bedroom with my hands in my hair.

If I go to practice, Dane will no doubt tease me, or worse, I’ll start to feel that tempting sexual attraction. It’s suffocating. It’s confusing. But most of all, admittedly, it’s exhilarating. I hate him, yet the thought of continuing these tasks makes me warm, makes me want to march down to that ballroom, drag Dane into the nearest broom closet, and demand he lower himself to his knees and fuck me with his mouth.

Three knocks on the door yank me from debating lying on my bed and ridding myself of this hunger. I stop dead, staring at the door. “Who is it?”

No one speaks. If it were that idiot, he’d use his magic to break in, probably pin me to a wall, and throw dirty words and insults my way. I think I might actually want that.

God, I need to get off this island.

“Go away,” I say, annoyed as I rummage through my makeup bag for wipes and fresh lipstick.

I grab a spare pair of panties and quickly change.

The door knocks again, and I huff, close my bathroom door, and throw open my main one. “What?”

I stare at nothing.

No one is there. The hallway is clear, and there are no students around. “If you’ve gained the power of being invisible and you’re messing with me, I will slap you, Dane.”

Nothing.

I close my door and lock it, then head for the courtyard to meet the twins.

They’re sitting on the edge of the fountain bickering about nail polish when I find them. I sit between them, leaning down to rummage through my bag to find my phone.

I know I have it here somewhere.

“Oh,” Poppy blurts out. “Sera, do not freak out.”

I stop and straighten. “What?”

“Your tattoo is… bigger.”

I touch the ink at the back of my neck, but the raised skin feels the same. “What do you mean?”

“I just caught a glimpse. Pull your shirt down at the back so we can get a proper look.”

I do as she says, and the twins study the tattoo. “You have another one now. Just below the first one. It’s linked by… is that writing? What does it say?” Mel asks her sister, who must answer with a gesture because I hear no response. “Yeah, I think so too.”

My heart skips a beat at their long silence that follows. “Hello? What’s going on?”

I move to stand, facing them. Poppy chews her lip. “It’s like it’s starting a chain of symbols down your spine.”

I should be freaking out, but I just cross my arms in annoyance. Given how my life has been going, this is miniscule. I’m sure it’s just from the tasks I’m doing with Dane. “What’s the other one?”

In unison, they both say, “It’s the symbol of a realm.”

“What one?”

Mel gives Poppy a look—she shrugs and smiles sadly at me. “The Mortal Realm.”

My brow furrows as I stare at the twins.

The overhead noise reminds us to go to practice, so the conversation ends. I trace the ink with my fingers as we walk, but Mel slaps my hand away. “No, don’t make it obvious. You having those markings is not a good sign. You are human. Act like one, Sera.”

Well, that’s… comforting.

“You’re worried,” Mel says to me, pointing out the obvious. “We’ll find out what’s happening to you, okay? Let’s get this dreadful class out the way and we can have a night of the girly things you humans do.”

Poppy grins at me. “I’ll paint your nails and braid your hair.”

“Sounds great,” I mutter as we walk through the large double doors into the ballroom.

All three of us stop walking and take in our surroundings. The hall is large with a high ceiling, excessively decorated with black and white roses, thousands of candles to light the place up, and the middle of the room has been completely cleared of anything—our dance space. It’s gothic, dark, yet beautiful.

Soft music is playing from nowhere, and the cult studies professor and Dane’s mother are dancing, showing another class a routine everyone has to do during the ball.

I can feel eyes on us from every angle as we make our way to our gathering class. Orsen winks at Mel, who rolls her eyes, and Poppy gives Brandt a smile, which he returns. Dane is staring at his shoes with a scowl, probably thinking I’m going to step all over them and ruin their shine.

If I hadn’t realized how different the twins were the moment I met them, the way they’re looking at this room would tell me exactly that. Poppy’s eyes have lit up, her smile growing as she twirls in circles and claps in excitement. Mel grimaces at her sister, regarding the decorations and the music with distaste.

Maybe if bodies were hanging from the ceiling in shackles, butchered and skinned alive, and blood smeared on the wall, with the added extra of Orsen in chains and naked, she would be as excited as Poppy. I should be scared of Mel. She’s evil. She even looks evil. But for some reason, we’re good friends.

I trust her, even though she could kill me without even blinking.

“You’re coming to my room tonight,” Orsen tells Mel, taking her waist and pulling her to him.

She grabs his throat and shoves him back. “No thanks.”

But the way they’re regarding each other, there’s no doubt she’ll be in his bed by midnight. I hope I don’t receive any nudes or video clips of them fucking.

She did say she wanted to show me how big he gets while she’s sucking him off, but I kindly declined. I might actually block her and not tell her.

Dane—his back to me—is talking to a student with long blonde hair. I know she’s attracted to him, her red eyes matching her latex outfit. She giggles at whatever he says, and I imagine her body in pieces, drained of blood, and set on fire.

Maybe I’ll carve out her eyeballs and shove them up her—

Calm down.

I grit my teeth. I am calm.

Dane turns, dismissing the girl, and quickly gives me a strange look I haven’t seen before, almost as if he’s concerned. As if he wants to come over here and ask if I’m okay. I can feel it somehow. I can feel his anxiousness—that he wants to walk over here and sweep me away from everyone. It’s quite a strong need too. I tilt my head at him, but he turns to his friend instead.

Dane’s hands are fisting as Orsen speaks to him.

I can feel him looking over at me again as the twins discuss their dresses for the hundredth time. His eyes stay on me while I walk to the bench, where we take our seats. When I lean down to fix the laces of my boots, his burning gaze follows.

Stop looking at me, creep.

I was merely glancing, mortal. And stop fucking speaking to me like that.

The corner of my mouth curls, but I wipe it away with my hand and pretend to fix my hair. I’ve made sure I keep it down, if only to hide the growing tattoos. There’s an itch at the top of my spine, and I know it’s the ink embedding further into my skin.

A hint of amusement flows through me, and I send it his way.

Or what, Dane? Are you going to punish me in front of everyone?

He gulps—I can hear him gulping from away over here. The strain of his muscles as he shifts in his seat. The soft, wet glide of his tongue across his bottom lip.

The headmistress claps once, grabbing our attention. “Okay, class! We have already allocated you a partner for the ball, and I want to cover a few rules. I will not tolerate violence or any sexual contact during dances. You come up here, do your routine with your partner, thank them with a kiss, then get off the floor.”

I need to kiss him again?

Dane’s mother crosses her arms. “Dance, kiss, then go away. Will that be a problem for anyone?”

When no one replies, she nods. “Let’s all gather round.”

She shows us all the routine, and for some reason, I know exactly what steps she’s going to take before she takes them. The confusion has me dumbfounded, so much so that I touch the back of my neck, feeling the heat and symbols at my nape.

Maybe someone is playing a prank on me. Or maybe someone has hexed me with a spell that covers mortals with tattoos, to show that I’m beneath them—branded with the symbol of the Mortal Realm as a sign of where I should be.

Valin walks into the ballroom, sans his usual three-piece suit. His white shirt flows around his body, his sleeves rolled up and the top three buttons unfastened. The suspenders clipped to his pants hang on each side, and his hair is disheveled.

Dane clears his throat and leans his elbows on his knees.

“Have I missed it already?” Valin’s deep voice asks.

“Of course not. Are you wanting to learn the routine?”

He nods, his eyes finding mine, staying on me for a beat too long before walking towards Dane and sitting beside him.

The headmistress watches them then instructs the first pair to the middle of the floor.