8

I ’m starting to think I’ve made the wrong friends here in the academy.

While all three of us sit on a log in the middle of the forest, the twins discuss between themselves their favorite childhood memory. How they killed their father, and the way he squealed like a pig when they ripped his eyes from their sockets and made him choke on his own skin. From what I’ve heard from them, he was an evil individual, so I find his death acceptable to an extent. What I don’t agree with is that they feel absolutely no remorse; that they find it funny that they killed their father .

Poppy giggles when Mel tells me they were wanted from then on, and that their mother sent them here to not only escape being killed as a result of the laws in their realm but to protect them from the destruction of their world.

At least their mother seems nice.

“What’s task two again?” Poppy asks, trying to catch raindrops in her palm.

I pull the list from my satchel and clear my throat.

“Task two…” I begin reading out the scroll in my hand while we wait for our next class. “Physical touch is important to humans, and one of the ways to demonstrate and sense a person’s trust is through touch. For this task, you will be spending time with your partner and getting used to how they feel. A minimum of six hours is expected. I suggest sharing a bed or holding hands to make up some of this time. This task will be recorded and sent to me.”

Mel scoffs. Poppy plays with an orb she’s made from gathering drops of water, which is floating above her head, and I shift on the log so I’m lying on my back.

“So we need to… what? Just touch each other?”

“She has a point,” I say. “It does build trust to be comfortable with someone touching you.” I nod, rereading the task. “I think it’s so task three is more straightforward.”

Poppy pops her bubblegum. As soon as she found out it was a type of human candy, she became addicted to blowing the biggest of bubbles. “I don’t mind two. I quite liked task one. And three looks fun.”

“It looks horrific and boring,” Mel says, rolling her eyes. “Did you both do task one too?”

We both nod.

Mel inspects her nails. “Orsen’s questions surprised me. I expected sexual and rude ones, but he genuinely asked questions about me and my life.”

“Brandt asked me all my firsts,” Poppy says, blushing the deepest shade of red. “What about you, Sera? I’m shocked that you and Dane haven’t killed each other yet.”

I tell them, dodging any mention of the last question. It resulted in me covering my face in embarrassment and Dane disappearing into thin air as he got the hell out of my room.

The pain I felt when I lied was brutal, but it eased off as soon as Dane vanished.

And now he thinks I want to sleep with him. It was an in-the-moment rush of desire from being pinned beneath him. Nothing more. Nothing less. Dane isn’t ugly, and he’s muscle upon muscle all over. He smells good. His eyes are mesmerizing. And he’s tall. Really tall.

Who wouldn’t want to fuck him while he’s on top of them?

Regardless, he probably thinks I have a crush on him, or that I’m pleased to be partnered with him.

I’m not.

And now I can’t face him.

I saw Dane walking to the canteen this morning for breakfast, and before he could notice me, I barreled into an empty classroom and waited a full hour before going back to my dorm.

How the hell am I going to look him in the eye and touch him for hours for task two? He can barely stand the smell of me, so how will he touch me without a spark of rage that results in me being pinned to something by the wrists or throat?

We’re screwed.

But I refuse to fail.

I pull out my phone and open our messages.

Me : Don’t make this awkward. It must’ve been a glitch in the magic because the last thing I want is to sleep with you. But we need to do task two, and if you mess it up, I’ll knee you in the balls again. Harder. Got it?

Me : I look forward to your one-worded response in two working days.

“What are you smiling at?”

I click my screen off and put away my phone. Flattening my smile, I say, “Nothing.”

During cult studies, I focus on the book in my lap instead of the floating head talking to us about rituals and prophets and ways to be accepted.

Teachers are supposed to be in their mortal forms, just like the students, but I guess some just don’t follow the rules and get away with it. If this were weeks ago, I’d have thrown my book at the head and run from the class screaming, but I guess I’m adjusting.

Usually, Mrs. Dalton takes this class, but she’s not here. Neither is her son.

It’s been four days, and either Dane is still struggling to work his phone, or he’s ignoring me. Either is fine. But that doesn’t explain why he’s been absent from classes. Poor Orsen seems like a lost puppy without his leader.

He isn’t following the rules. We’re supposed to be together for security reasons, so instead of me hunting for him, I’ve kept close to my friends.

Perks of being the son of the headmistress. He thinks he can break rules and not get any form of punishment. I’m dreading the next meeting about it all and having a public shaming.

Although, what I thought would be a week of dealing with Dane’s insufferable self has turned into me being a nervous wreck for a totally different reason.

A deep need to know where he is.

It’s almost consuming me. I’ve been constantly fighting the urge to sneak out of my dorm after hours to hunt for him.

I haven’t.

However, I did have a nightmare last night. Heat. Screams. Fire. A lot of it. Then someone had lifted me from the flames and carried me to safety as two people I assumed to be my parents had wailed in agony while they burned.

I’d tried to get to them and failed.

And before I’d woken from the dream, green eyes had stared back at me, and there had been so much panic in them, anguish, desperation as the deep voice muttered my name.

Seraphine .

I’d let out a scream and sat up in my bed, covered in sweat. The silhouettes on the walls had just stared back at me.

Now I’m researching what dreams mean while the freaky head hovers near the main desk, asking students about prophecies and why they’re important to the realms despite being irrelevant to how we can pass our classes and get to the Mortal Realm. Some answer, but most look bored out of their minds.

I keep reading my book to figure out what my dreams mean.

In the human world, they can have a lot of meanings, but here, within these castle walls, I don’t trust that they mean nothing. There must be a reason why it felt so real. Like a memory more than a fucked-up scenario my mind concocted.

Some dreams I like to stay in, but this one felt like a trap.

The book I have now explains that they may be memories from a different life. Or a desire to have that life.

Burning to death is definitely not a life I want, and I don’t know who my birth parents are. As far as I’m aware, the system raised me. I jumped between the orphanage and foster families and eventually found a home that gave me everything I needed. But then they died in a car crash, and since I was classed as an adult, I had to fend for myself.

Maybe that’s why I’m having these dreams. Or maybe I’m just stressed with my position. I’m frustrated because my needs aren’t met, and I’m lost, trying to find a way out.

Either way, I’m still in a magical school full of killers and bullies and creatures who want me dead.

I nearly jump out of my skin as my professor’s floating head appears in my lap. “Miss Winters! Pay attention or you’ll be given detention!”

I slap the book shut on the head. He vanishes and pops up at his desk.

“We do not tolerate laziness and immaturity in this academy. Tell me, little girl, what exactly is a prophecy?”

Little girl?

“You are aware that I’m twenty, right?”

His lips pull into a smirk. “I am four hundred and eighty years old. You are a little girl .”

I look around the room, swallowing harshly, before leveling my bodiless teacher with a glare. “It’s just another way of saying something is a prediction,” I answer.

“A prediction of what?” he asks.

I shrug. “The future.”

“Wrong.”

A few students giggle, and my cheeks heat with exasperation. “No it isn’t. And cult studies have nothing to do with divination.”

“Wrong again. A prophecy is a forecast of events that are yet to happen. Something solid. Predictions are not accurate. In this world and every other. You are human. Tell me prophecies that have been true to your god.”

I shake my head, silent. And extremely confused.

“I have no idea what’s happening right now,” a student says. “What are we talking about?”

The teacher grits his teeth. “Be quiet, Quigley.” He settles his head on top of his desk. “We’re going off-topic. The reason for bringing this up is that there is a prophecy about a being who will end the war of the worlds…”

I stop listening. Not because he’s speaking far too fast and what he’s saying is far too complicated to understand, but because there’s a coldness wrapping around my leg, up my thigh. It weaves around me like a snake until it reaches my throat. Invisible, so no one can see.

And then there’s a quiet whisper in my ear. A lifeless hiss. Death to her . Death to all.

I spring to my feet, gathering my books and grabbing my bag, ignoring the professor as I run from the room. My feet take me out of the castle completely, as if they know where to go, and I only stop when I reach the barrier line next to the water.

I try to put up a facade that I’m fine, but I’m far from fine. I’m in a school full of creatures and paranormal entities. With someone who wants me dead yet has been partnered up with me for multiple classes.

As soon as the opportunity arises, as soon as he knows he can get away with it, he’ll come for me.

I can’t breathe. I press my palm to my chest, count to five, ten, fifteen, twenty and close my eyes. Lowering to sit on the ground, I inhale and exhale, my vision blurring.

The air shifts, cold and wet, and someone sits down beside me. “Are you okay?”

I don’t look up at the familiar voice. “No.”

Valin, hushed and present, doesn’t speak again until my heart rate decelerates and my sight gradually clears. We listen to the water lapping the shore, the wind gusting, and the trees nearby shivering as the leaves rustle.

Finally, he talks. “You seem down. Anything you want to get off your chest?”

Shaking my head, I hug my knees. “I don’t belong here. That’s all.”

“None of us belong here, little Seraphine.”

I raise my head to look at him. “It doesn’t matter anyway. My partner seems to have vanished into dust, and my second task is due tomorrow. You know more than most that every single part needs to be completed.” I nudge him with my shoulder, trying to lighten the mood. “You’re going to be stuck with me for an extra year.”

“I can’t help you with Dane. He always disappears for weeks at a time. Show me your list,” Valin says, reaching out his hand.

I sigh and pull it from my satchel. “Everyone has the same. Task two is to be completed by noon tomorrow.”

“I could help you with some of them, if he doesn’t make an appearance.” He stares at the scroll, eyes flitting from side to side as he takes in each line. “I’d be more than happy to assist.”

I frown. “But you’re a professor.”

He winks. “An off-duty professor. Besides, as I’ve pointed out before, there are no rules.”

“Did you even read task two?”

He nods, blue eyes flashing. “I certainly have.”

“I’m only twenty.”

He grins. “And I’m only thirty-four.”

I stare at him. With his young features, the thickness of his hair and the contours of his cheeks and jawline, he could pass for a model in my world.

But he’s a professor.

“You wouldn’t get into trouble?”

He laughs, standing and reaching his hand out. “Come. Let’s go to your dorm.”

Despite the uneasy feeling rolling through me, I take his outstretched hand and follow him. Something within me is telling me to get away. To run. But I can’t let go. Something is wrong. Something doesn’t feel right.

He knows where my dorms are, the exact corridor, and ignores the stares from students as he walks with the mortal.

His thumb rubs over my skin, and I frown because I don’t feel anything. Before, when we were sparring and he was teaching me fighting stances, I was affected. Yet now, as he unlocks my door and ushers me inside, I feel nothing.

He looks around as I close my door; I lean against it while he touches everything. The silhouettes on my walls are hiding, nowhere to be seen.

Valin turns to me, a twinkle in his eyes. “Come here.”

I take a few steps without meaning to.

His fingers trail up my arm, and he studies me, the bare legs and thighs revealed by my uniform, and his Adam’s apple bobs. “You are fascinating. You always have been.”

Unfastening the top button of my shirt, he carefully keeps his eyes on me. Another. And another. Still, there’s no rippling need to rip his clothes off. When he does the last one, he slides the material over my shoulders, and the shirt pools on the ground.

I tense all over as he reaches for my bra strap. “What are you doing?”

Softly, like a purr, he replies, “Task two.”

“It states not to do anything sexual.”

He tucks his finger under the strap, hooking it then snapping it back against my skin. “I’m simply removing your clothes. They’re dirty, and I can’t touch you while you’re wearing them.”

As soon as he steps into my breathing space, I feel uneasy and uncomfortable. A voice in my head tells me to run, to shove him away, to yell at all the professors to remove him from my room.

Dane.

Where the fuck are you?

The second voice didn’t come from me.

But instead of reacting, I’m frozen as Valin grabs my shirt from the ground, caressing the material between his fingertips, then bringing it to his nose and inhaling.

“Ahh. What a wonderful scent.” Another sniff. “If your shirt smells like this, I can only wonder…”

I stand back, hitting my hip on the bed frame. “I think that’s enough.”

Tilting his head, Valin looks confused. “What is?”

“I want you to leave.” I try to sound intimidating, but my voice shakes.

His eyes are shifting to a deep red, transforming into something… immortal. His teeth lengthen, sharp and terrifying.

He takes a step, but before he can reach me, the entire room erupts in an explosion of smoke. Everything catapults around us, yet I’m still, something encasing me, like a forcefield shielding me from danger.

Papers and splintered wood and stones fly around me. The flames of my candles snuff out, and the windows smash, sending fragments of glass all over my floor and destroying the bed.

It’s not smoke at all; shadows. Lots of them. Circling. Dancing. Screaming as they twirl and twist around a dark figure. Voices—deep voices. Chanting something I can’t quite make out.

But I’m not scared. I feel somewhat safe.

A black mass surges towards Valin, flipping him to the opposite side of the room, where his back smashes against the wall.

He groans, pushing himself to his knees and wiping his nose with a chuckle. “Just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” He tries to move towards me, but the room erupts like a volcano once more, and flames burst across my ceiling.

I don’t feel blistering heat, or scared for my safety, or anything.

Dane, dressed in nothing but a pair of dress pants and a half-buttoned shirt, materializes in front of Valin like a vortex, rage and fury and death in his eyes. “Get the fuck out,” he roars as the shadows rush back to him, right into his chest. “Now.”

“You should be in the dungeons,” Valin seethes as he struggles to get to his feet. “You should be in the dungeons! How did you escape?”

Dungeons?

He said he didn’t know where Dane was, that he always vanishes for weeks at a time. That’s why Dane hasn’t been following the security rules.

“Do not insult me by thinking a few spells and a prison will keep me locked away.” Dane flicks his hand, and my door is thrown open, the wood cracking, nearly breaking at the hinges. “Don’t push me. I’m in no mood for any more of your bullshit.”

Valin looks at me then at Dane before he straightens his collar and walks to the door.

He stops and growls at him. “You cannot keep her.”

Dane just gives Valin a dark look, his brows narrowing, and without him saying a word or moving a finger, the professor is shoved out of the room before the door slams shut.

Dane wipes his palms on his pants before waving his hand at the door, locking it.

“What was that about? And why were you in the dungeons?”

“That’s no concern of yours. He was trying to take advantage of you. And you were going to let him?”

I cross my arms. “No! You blew in here like Peter Pan with your shadows before I could stop him!”

Dane stares at me for a long second. “Who?”

“You have no chance in my world.”

He mutters something under his breath before the room starts to rearrange, all my things repairing and settling back into their rightful places. My duvet flattens on my mattress, and my candles, windows, and books repair themselves.

“Valin is not good. He’s a power hungry monster and shouldn’t be trusted,” Dane says, not once looking at me. Probably because I can’t seem to move and I’m standing in just my bra and a short, pleated skirt.

I watch as he studies my room, grimacing at my shirt on the floor.

“He said he was in his thirties,” I reply, his presence cracking the energy in the room, in my core.

“He lied. He wants you.” Dane rubs his large hand down his face, looking exhausted. His shirt is a mess with soot, and his hair looks like he’s been running his fingers through it for days. “I hit him,” he explains. “He demanded I leave…” He pauses. “Leave the island. But I said no obviously.”

“Why does he want you to leave the island?”

Dane’s jaw tenses. “We’re from the same realm.”

I raise a brow, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I’m the heir to the Shadow Realm, and he doesn’t like that. Never has.”

I whistle. “Wow. You’re an heir, yet you’re here, acting like some bratty teenager and fighting with your professor.”

“Shut up. As I said, he wants you.”

I fight a laugh. “And that’s an issue because…?”

His now silver eyes snap up to my face. “Did you not just hear me? He’s a monster.”

“So are you, and so’s basically everyone else here.”

His gaze falls from mine, stopping at my exposed collarbone. “Put your shirt back on. I don’t want to have nightmares from seeing you like this.”

I scoff. “And that’s why you just exploded into my room.”

“You are my partner in this school. If you fail, I fail. That means if either of us dies or becomes bewitched, we’re stuck here for even longer. I don’t need you drooling over the professor while we’re both trying to pass each class.”

“Fine.”

He snarls, trying not to glance below my throat or at the fluttering pulse on my neck. “Fine. You’ll keep your distance from him. And you’ll train with me from now on.”

“If I’m training with anyone else, it’s definitely not with you. And remember the security measures too.”

We stare each other down until he groans, bends at the knee to gather my shirt in his fist, and throws it at my face.

“Dress, mortal.”

Once I’m covered, I imagine myself slapping him. Hard. So hard that his face bleeds.

With a grimace, Dane runs his thumb across his lip. “You’ll only hurt yourself if you do that. But, please, do try.”

“We have to do task two.” I change the subject because, for some reason, I’m feeling less annoyed with him and more… needy. Like I don’t want him to leave. “Have you read it yet?”

“I’ve been in the dungeons for days. What do you think?”

I roll my eyes.

“Stop rolling your fucking eyes at me.”

“Okay, Peter ,” I reply, walking to the desk and collecting the list. “Read it.”

“Do not call me by another’s name.” He snatches it from me and reads each word of task two with a deepening scowl, then squeezes the scroll in his fist. “No.”

I raise a brow. “No?”

“I will not touch you for six hours. What kind of challenge is this?” He rips and tosses the paper, but with the magic the professor cast on it, it just unravels and floats back to us.

“It’ll make task three easier.”

He glares at me. “And what is task three?”

“You need to kiss me.”

Dane looks like I just killed his mother.

He turns and walks towards the door.

“Where are you going?” I call.

“To hang myself.”

“Stop being dramatic. Just…” I bite my lip, unsure how to word this. “The professor said we can sleep in the same bed and it would count. We’re supposed to share during the weekends anyway.”

“Is this your way of seducing me? Because it isn’t working.”

I snort. “If I wanted to seduce you, I could.”

His eyes flicker from green to silver then back to green. “I will not fornicate with a human.”

I just roll my eyes again because I’m sure he has no idea what that means. “I’m going to shower and get ready for bed. If you’re serious about these tasks, come back here in an hour.”

Dane looks at me.

I pull my shirt off, throw it at him, and head for the bathroom.

By the time I’m washed and in my nightdress, he’s gone. I tuck myself into bed, blow out my candles, and melt into my pillow.

The door creaks hours later, but instead of barreling in and demanding boundaries, I hear him mutter to himself that he can do this followed by the sound of fabric hitting the floor.

The mattress dips behind me, and I hug the duvet to my chest as Dane settles into my bed.

His shoulder is to my back. “Is this good enough?” he asks quietly, a whisper in the dark. “For the task?”

I nod once. “I think so.”

“Goodnight, mortal.”

I flatten my lips. “Will you ever call me by my name?”

“No.”

I huff, and the bed shakes. He’s… laughing?

“I hate you,” I say, battling a smile. “I really hate you.”

“That’s why you want me to fuck you.”

I turn to face him, not realizing how close we actually are. “If you got my text, I said it was an in-the-moment thing. I’d rather fuck a cactus.”

He grimaces. He’s so, so close. I can feel each breath between us. “You humans are strange.”

I turn away from him again. “You’re about to be surrounded by billions of us. Get used to it.”

“I can assure you that I will not get used to it. Now, tell me. Who is Peter Pan? Does he wield the power of shadows too?”

Fighting a laugh, I tighten my fist in the duvet. “Go to sleep, immortal creature.”

He chuckles deeply, and it rushes straight down my spine and gathers between my legs. He might as well have run his tongue against my core before plunging it inside me.

“Please keep your thoughts to yourself.”

I pale, all the blood draining from my face. “It was—”

“In the moment. Yes, you seem to have that a lot.”

Blushing, I bury my face in the pillow.

And for the first time in weeks, I fall into a peaceful sleep, where I dream of myself dancing in the rain and laughing with friends; a young man with dashing green eyes introducing himself in my diner as he orders a milkshake and waffles. He hands me his bank card to swipe his order, and the spark is instant when our fingers touch.

When I wake through the night, a heavy arm is snaked around my waist. Our bare legs are intertwined, and Dane Dalton, in only his briefs, is attached to me like a sloth to a tree.

The shadows and silhouettes swim around my room, but instead of searching for something, looking for their source and savior, they’re calm.

At peace.