Page 31 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

“Never tried, so I can’t say for sure with that one.”

This mouth of hers…

“Say the word, and I’ll stop.” I’m trying to think with reason.With anything that can shy her away from the inevitable. To paint me like the venomous prince the world enjoys labeling me as.

She tilted her head, her lips grazing my jaw as she whispered back.

"Don’t you dare."

She says it with such bold arbitrary, and yet the vibrating confidence resonates with my very soul.

Enough impact to shred that last bit of restraint.

Leaving only the wild, reckless need to claim and be claimed.

There’s no going back then…

I kissed her again, brutal and unrelenting, letting her feel the weight of the chaos she’d unleashed. My hands gripped her thighs as I pressed her harder against the wall, her body arching into mine with an eagerness that only stoked my need.

She was fire beneath my fingertips, heat and softness that made it impossible to think straight.

My length pressed against her through the thin barrier of her panties, and I groaned into her mouth, the sensation driving me to the brink of sanity.

She was gasping for air when I finally pulled away, her chest heaving as she met my gaze with a mix of defiance and desire.

"This shirt," I muttered, my voice low and guttural. "It’s in the way."

Before she could respond, I snapped my fingers, and my shadows surged forward, weaving through the fabric like tendrils of smoke. The shirt dematerialized in an instant, leaving her bare and vulnerable beneath me.

Her eyes widened in shock as she looked down at herself, then back at me.

"Hey! I was going to keep that!" she pouted, her lips forming a perfect little curve that only made me want to kiss her again.

I rolled my eyes, exhaling sharply.

"What is it with your kind and collecting clothing as if it’s treasure?"

"You don’t understand," she shot back, her voice laced with mock indignation. "There’s a sense of peace and comfort in cozy, oversized shirts, typically men's oversized shirts that are already worn and smell nice."

I grunted, dismissing her argument with a wave of my hand.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night." But even as I said it, I snapped my fingers again, my shadows surging forward to bind her wrists and spread her legs, lifting her further up slightly away from the wall, making her well aware that nothing but my shadows held her in the midst of the atmosphere.

She was suspended in midair, her body displayed before me like the perfect masterpiece it was.

Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as she squirmed against her bindings, her breath hitching as she realized just how exposed she was.

"This," she stammered, her voice a mix of embarrassment and amusement, "is some monster shit. The kind that’s all over trending novels."

I arched an eyebrow, stepping back to admire her.

"Reading about such…encounters has never intrigued me," I admitted, my voice calm despite the heat coursing through me.

Her eyes narrowed, her defiance returning full force.

"And you think you’re going to be good at this? An emotionless Duskwalker with shadow powers and a knack for scaring the shit out of people?"

I groaned, running a hand through my hair.

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