Page 28 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

“You’re insufferable,” I growled, my voice low and rough as I tugged at the hem of my shirt. The fabric gave way easily, and I tossed it aside, baring myself to her gaze.

Her eyes widened slightly as they roamed over me, lingering on the scars that crisscrossed my torso, remnants of battles fought long before her time. She didn’t flinch or look away.

Instead, her lips parted in silent admiration, her gaze tracing each line as if committing them to memory.

“You’re…” she began, her voice trailing off as she took a step back, her legs hitting the edge of the bed. She sank down onto the mattress, her eyes never leaving me.

“Beautiful.”

The word hit me like a physical blow, so foreign and unexpected that I almost recoiled.

Beautiful?

No one had ever dared to call a Duskwalker such a thing. We were monsters, harbingers of death, creatures to be feared and reviled.

But in her eyes, I wasn’t a monster.

Not in this moment.

I stepped closer, the tension between us pulling tighter with every breath. My hands moved to my belt, the buckle coming undone with a soft click.

Her eyes followed the motion, darkening with anticipation.

“Duskwalkers don’t fuck,” I said, the words harsh and clipped, as if repeating them would make them true.

As if they could somehow stop this insanity.

She tilted her head, a smirk playing on her lips.

“And hybrids who’ve been haunted by ghosts and play with fire for fun aren’t supposed to get frisky in between the sheetseither.” Her tone was light, almost teasing, but her eyes held a challenge. “But I’ve always been a defiant child.”

A growl rumbled low in my throat, the sound primal and unrestrained. She had an uncanny ability to dismantle my carefully constructed defenses with nothing more than a few well-placed words.

“I’m over five hundred years old,” I countered as if that would somehow dissuade her. As if the sheer weight of my existence could crush this reckless desire.

She shrugged, utterly unbothered.

“I’m a born vampire hybrid. I’ll probably live to see a thousand years. Maybe longer. So,” she leaned back slightly, propping herself up on her elbows, “we can try to get even, but I’ll need a better head start.”

I froze, her words echoing in the space between us.

This reckless, maddening woman…

She had no idea what she was asking for, no comprehension of the storm she was unleashing.

But gods help me, I couldn’t resist.

Her smirk widened as she watched me, her confidence unshaken despite the gravity of what we were about to do. Her defiance, her fire, only drew me closer, like a moth to a flame.

For centuries, I had been frost and shadows, untouchable and unyielding. But now, standing before her, I felt something shift. Something deeper, more profound than lust or desire.

I was falling.

And there was no going back.

The room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of us suspended in this moment. The weight of the world, the centuries of solitude and darkness, all of it melted away beneath the heat of her gaze.

Slowly, I reached out, my hand cupping her cheek. Her skin was warm, impossibly so, and she leaned into my touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

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