Page 39 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

I’d given in to the need, but it wasn’t enough.

It would never be enough.

And that realization only made the fire burn hotter.

7

WRONG FIRST ASSUMPTIONS

~GWENIVERE~

Consciousness returns slowly, like wading through honey.

My body aches in places I didn't know could ache, and the memories of why flood back with crystal clarity.

I inhale deeply, catching the unmistakable scent of winter frost and ancient magic clinging to the black t-shirt I'm now wearing.

Cassius's shirt.

The one that he wore before fucking me so damn good.

Gods…when have I been fucked like that?

Never.

I try to ignore the very significant age gap difference. Then again, we’re supernatural creatures, some of us having a lifespan that others would deem eternal.

I’m just a youngling in comparison.

Sighing, I decide I’m better off enjoying the comfort his shirt gives me. The fabric is impossibly soft against my skin, carrying traces of his essence — that unique blend of shadow and ice that sets him apart from any being I've ever encountered.

Heat rushes to my cheeks as fragments of the deeds we committed flash through my mind. It’s not like I haven’t had my share of one-night stands,because a girl’s got needs,but holy fuck.

Never had I been with a man who knew what he was fucking doing.

The way his hands had gripped me, how his shadows had wrapped around me like living silk, the intensity in those silver eyes as he...

"Oh gods," I groan, grabbing the nearest pillow and burying my face in it. "What was I thinking?"

Blood lust. That's what I was thinking - or rather, not thinking at all.

The desperate need for sustenance had scrambled my brain, stripped away my inhibitions, and led me straight into the arms of possibly the most dangerous prince in the academy.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," I mutter into the pillow, trying to muffle my voice. The last thing I need is for anyone to hear my moment of crisis.

But pillow or not, I'll have to face reality eventually.

Confront them after the chaos that ensued thanks to me.

Facehimeventually.

The thought sends another wave of heat to my cheeks.

With a resigned huff, I lower the pillow, ready to confront whatever awaits me.

I freeze.

Two hollow sockets stare back at me, mere inches from my face.

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