PROLOGUE: A DESPERATE GAMBIT

~GWENIVERE~

The ancient stones of Wicked Academy breathed magic like other buildings exhaled dust.

I felt it in my bones as I crept through the shadowed halls, each step carefully placed to avoid triggering the centuries-old wards that protected this sacred bastion of supernatural education.

“Scary and intimidating is an understatement,” I whisper to myself, thinking about the rumors and constant discussions about Wicked Academy that I’ve gathered over the years.

Yet, here I am. Infiltrating the place like a damn fool.

My sister's face haunted my thoughts—her skin growing paler by the day, magic bleeding out of her faster than she could replenish it, leaving her suspended in a magical coma that grew deeper with each passing hour.

I have to do this. It’s the only way out.

The Chalice of Restoration had to be here somewhere.

The ancient texts I'd discovered in my grandmother's grimoire had pointed to Wicked Academy as its resting place.After a year of intense research, finding such information in the heart of her old home was like finding a needle in a haystack.

The Chalice of Restoration: a powerful artifact capable of regenerating depleted magical cores —it was my only hope of saving Elena.

I’ve tried everything else I could think of, and in this world of merciless wonder, no one would possibly risk their lives in attempting to get into this prestigious school that is known for its wickedness.

What would define as wicked?

The usual. Murder, the easy route apparently, kidnapping, abuse, constant suffering, and misery. Anything to push you far past your limits and leave you begging for death like it’s some sort of blessing.

Yet, paranormals across the world fight desperately to get an invitation.

But not me, Gwenivere Isolde Graveshadow. Apparently, ghost-like bitches like me who get possessed by the dead and have untapped elements coursing through their veins just hopped over a wall and made my way inside.

"I swear there’s going to be a trap sooner or later,” I grumble to myself, feeling absolutely stupid if there really isn’t further protection in this grand academy.

Moonlight filtered through towering stained glass windows, casting eerie patterns across the marble floors.

My enhanced vampire senses picked up the distant murmur of voices, but the west wing remained mercifully empty at this late hour.

Guess I should be thanking my dad for the vampy senses or else I’d never be able to infiltrate so easily in a place filled with paranormal individuals from across the realms.

I try not to think of my parents too much, their love story tragic, but gave birth to me and my twin sister, so they have some sort of legacy that’s living and doing their thing.

Not like I can’t simply summon their spirits, but I should be a good forbidden child and let them sleep in peace…wherever they went.

"Focus,” I encourage myself, needing to take a few deep breaths to calm my nerves. My brain enjoys wandering, a dangerous habit that usually leaves me staring into space while the world continues ticking away.

No wonder why I get the Wandering Gwen as a nickname constantly. That’s all my brain does. Wander…imagine, and sometimes get possessed because I’m so far into my daydreaming that spirits like to pull a “wee” and enter right into my body.

Personally, I think it’s a family trait from my mom, but to the world, I’m just the crazy ghost lady.

With dark circles, red lips, and the perfect resting bitch face. The extremely long white strands of hair don’t help either.

“Ugh!” I have to stop myself from moving to recenter myself.

According to the architectural plans I'd memorized, the Artifacts Chamber should be just ahead.

I adjusted the enchanted amulet at my throat, I pray it can continue to pull off my disguise; the culprit in maintaining my masculine glamour.

Even now, the magic felt foreign against my skin, like wearing someone else's clothes.