Page 4 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

Why would I know that?

Well if my own vampire senses weren’t tingling like I was about to have my life flash before my eyes, I’d think he’s a different paranormal race of royalty.

I could only hope he can’t sense my paranormal traits thanks to the glamor that has morphed into…well, whatever this is.

"I'm so sorry," I managed, trying to keep my voice steady despite its unfamiliar depth. "There's been a terrible mistake. I'll just?—"

Get my male ass out of here!

The door bursts open, flooding the room with light that makes me temporarily squint. It’s not like vampires are harmed by sunlight or whatever the legends say, but as a girl who enjoys all-nighters reading romance books of girls being railed by monsters, this bright light shit is agonizingly annoying to my line of vision.

Two more figures stood in the doorway — one tall and lithe with pointed ears that I knew without a doubt was Fae royalty by the obvious golden crown with embedded emeralds, while the other wrapped in shadows where it felt impossible to see his genuine figure, let alone a face.

"Damien," the Fae prince states with urgency, his voice like honey over steel, "we heard the ward alarm. Are you?—"

He stopped short, taking in the scene before him.

A slow, wicked grin spread across his face, and I only felt sicker by the second just by seeing the twinkling malevolence dancing in the depths of his alluring pupils.

"Well, well. What do we have here?"

The other prince doesn’t say a word, but those shadows.Goodness…they move on their own accord in a haunting sway of hypnotism that works effortlessly to bring me into its pull.

I looked between the three princes, having to dance my gaze around so I didn’t fall prey to the tempting daze that was fighting to take me over, my heart sinking with dread.

Shit…I’m cornered…

In trying to save my sister, I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life.

The shadows around the third prince lean closer as if they’re an entity themselves and are studying me, but they begin to take shape behind the prince, like a second skin, and I can only hold my breath as the creature’s shadow eyes take life just as the prince’s real eyes open to reveal haunting balls of silver that seem to pierce through me like millions of knives.

I feel paralyzed as the creature’s shape is complete because the very being I thought one could never survive confronting is now before me like a reaper of death.

All it’s missing is a scythe to steal my soul away…

Duskwalker.

"Just a lost little bird," Damien declares, his voice rich with amusement but also, seduction. "Who seems to have found his way into quite the interesting nest."

Three pairs of eyes fixed on me with predatory interest, and I knew with crushing certainty that my mission to save Elena had just become infinitely more complicated.

If not the path to my early demise…

1

RISING COMPLICATIONS OF A MALE HYBRID

~GWENIVERE~

Rope burns are seriously underrated in terms of pain levels.

And whoever tied these knots clearly spent way too much time in whatever evil boy scout troop Wicked Academy probably runs.

"I've told you three times already," I growl in my new and unwelcome baritone, testing the restraints for the hundredth time. "I came for the Chalice of Restoration. My sister is dying. Just let me go and I'll be out of your perfectly styled hair forever."

Damien Constantine lounges against an antique desk like he's posing for a portrait, now thankfully dressed in a black silk shirt and tailored pants.

His violet eyes glitter with predatory amusement.

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