Page 121 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

I shrug, not bothering to hide my amusement.

"Maybe."

The cleanup process begins, all of us working to restore order to the kitchen.

When I approach Nikolai with a towel, I'm struck again by his physical presence. This close, I can appreciate the intricatetattoos decorating his chest — designs I wouldn't have expected on a Fae, each one pulsing with barely contained power.

Our eyes meet again, but his gaze drops to the mark glowing above my cleavage. His teeth catch his lower lip, an unexpectedly human gesture from such an otherworldly being.

"Would you prefer answers now or later?" he asks softly.

I bite my own lip, overwhelmed by the tension crackling between us. A quick glance around reveals we're suddenly alone — Mortimer, Cassius, and even Mini-Grim have vanished, leaving us in charged solitude.

"Wouldn't it be..." I hesitate, voice dropping to a whisper, "slutty of me to just want to kiss you? A Fae…gleaming in perfection and completely opposite from a hybrid like me?"

He huffs out a laugh, fingers capturing my chin and drawing me closer until our eyes lock.

"If you’re slutty, I'll be Wicked Academy's ultimate player," he murmurs, "if it means I get to kiss the hell out of you right now."

The intensity in his gaze makes my breath catch. The mark on my chest pulses with increased warmth, responding to his proximity like a flower turning toward the sun.

“Can I?” it’s such a simple request, and yet it means a lot more than I realize because he doesn’t need to ask permission. This man could be a god in these realms and get whatever he wishes with a simple demand, but he asks me.

Gives me the chance to say yes…or no.

"Y-Yes,” I say almost breathlessly, unable to fight this pull any longer.

I want him…need him…and I guess who gives a fuck if we’re just two strangers.

Destiny must want us to come together now.

And I’m not one to fight what Fate has for me…especially bliss.

21

UNDO THE RESTRAINT BETWEEN US

~NIKOLAI~

The coffee pot hovers mid-pour as she appears in the kitchen doorway, haloed by morning light.

My dress shirt barely contains her curves — curves she's managed to hide remarkably well beneath uniforms and male glamours. But here, in the soft glow of dawn, there's no hiding the woman beneath the deception.

Her legs seem endless, toned with just enough thickness to suggest someone who puts in real work rather than merely posing before mirrors. The slight muscle definition speaks of training, of purpose beyond mere aesthetics. It's refreshing to see such honest strength in a world where appearance often trumps substance.

Her lips part in what I assume is surprise, eyes wide and questioning. Even her sleep-mussed hair adds to the appeal — silver strands catching light like captured moonbeams. She looks thoroughly claimed by slumber, soft and vulnerable in ways that make my ancient blood sing.

But it's when my gaze drops to her cleavage that I feel it — the pulse of the mark I somehow managed to trigger.

Our bond mark, unexpected yet inevitable, glowing with golden warmth above her heart. The magic binding us together had manifested despite all logic suggesting it shouldn't be possible between a Fae royal and a hybrid.

Though she did mention carrying royal blood...

The thought is intriguing, but in this moment of crackling tension, origins and bloodlines seem insignificant. We know so little about each other, yet the connection between us feels older than time itself.

Mortimer's voice cuts through my appreciation of the view.

"Should we leave?" he asks Cassius, his tone dry as aged wine. "It feels as though we're disturbing something rather... intimate."

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