Page 80 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

“Well, it is,” I snap. “And you’re going to do it. All you need to do is bite my wrist?—”

“Finally, some sense,” Damien interrupts with a smirk.

“—and instead of taking blood, you’re going to push energy into me. It’s like reverse-feeding. Think of it as shoving your aura into mine to keep my energy balanced.”

Damien frowns, the cocky edge fading from his expression. “That… doesn’t sound hard,” he mutters, though there’s a note of uncertainty in his voice. “But I’ve never done that shit before.”

“Suck it up,” I retort. “I’ve never met a vampire who didn’t bully the shit out of me, so consider this payback. It’s a first time for everything, right? Even if it’s an ancient method of power hidden in books that shall not be named.”

“If he messes it up, we’re all dead anyway,” Cassius says calmly, though his shadows ripple like restless waves around his feet. “Why not?”

Nikolai chuckles softly, folding his arms as he leans against a vine-covered pillar. “He’s barely mastered his own magic,” he points out, his violet eyes gleaming with amusement. “You’re really trusting him to pull this off, Gabriel?”

“Well, if he can’t, we’re all dying, so… yolo,” I say with a shrug, though my tone is far more acidic than casual.

Damien glares at Nikolai, baring his fangs. “Watch your mouth, Fae prince. I’ll show you just how capable I am.”

“Mm-hmm,” Nikolai hums, waving a dismissive hand. “Just don’t drain him dry in the process, darling. I’d hate to lose Gabriel before his brilliant plan fails spectacularly.”

Before Damien can retort, Cassius stiffens, his gaze snapping toward the slate. “Something’s happening,” he says, his voice low and grim.

We all turn to look. The slate’s runes are pulsing erratically now, their malevolent glow casting harsh shadows across the battlefield. The remaining pillars are crumbling faster, and the few students still standing are barely holding on. Most are lying motionless, their magic drained to the point of collapse. The air is thick with the stench of burning flesh and dark magic.

“Fuck,” I whisper, my throat tightening. From thousands of students at the start of this trial, we’re down to maybe a hundred. And even that might be generous.

Far below, at the very base of the slate’s domain, a group of students has managed to huddle together on a single, massive pillar just above the ground. But the ground itself is… wrong. It’s not solid. It’s a sea of flames and swirling darkness, an endless void that seems to devour everything it touches. The students’ barrier is flickering, barely holding, and it’s clear they won’t last much longer.

The sight is haunting, a grim reminder of just how far we’ve fallen. My stomach churns, but I force myself to focus. If we’re going to do something, it has to be now.

“It’s now or never,” I say, my voice steady despite the chaos roaring around us. “Get ready. We’re launching the attack.”

“What exactly is the plan?” Nikolai asks, his tone curious but not particularly concerned.

I shoot him a sharp look. “If it all goes to shit, just know I fucking hate you all.”

Grim lets out a puff of smoke, this one tinged with an almost citrusy scent. I sigh, correcting myself. “Not you, Grim. I like you.”

Damien growls, his fangs glinting in the dim light. “Why the hell are we helping you again?”

Cassius glances at him, his expression as calm as ever. “Because if Gabriel’s plan doesn’t work, we’re all going to die anyway. What’s the harm in trying?”

Damien mutters something under his breath, but he doesn’t argue further. Instead, he steps closer to me, his crimson eyes narrowing as he studies me. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.”

Nikolai smirks, his golden aura flaring slightly. “I’m actually quite fascinated by this plan. I doubt Gabriel will let us die, but if Damien messes up… well, he owes us lunch.”

“Fuck off, Nikolai,” Damien snaps, his voice dripping with venom. “Watch me prevail.”

“Mm-hmm. Sure,” Nikolai says with a wave of his hand. “I’ll be waiting.”

I take a shaky breath, my wrist trembling slightly as I raise it to my lips. The moment stretches endlessly, a fragile silence hanging in the air despite the chaos raging around us.

I force my mind to still, shutting out the exhaustion and the doubts gnawing at the edges of my resolve. There is no room for hesitation now.

The faint tang of copper fills my mouth as my tongue grazes the skin of my wrist. I close my eyes, focusing intently on the ancient incantation that begins to form in my mind. The magic buried within me stirs, reluctant but eager all at once. It’s a raw, wild thing—untamed and dangerous, like a fire waiting for the chance to consume.

Runes bloom to life along the veins of my wrist, their lines glowing with a faint blue-white light. They pulse in time with my heartbeat, their ancient language whispering secrets in a tongue I barely understand but instinctively obey.

The glow spreads, lines of power seeping across my skin like rivulets of light. They wrap around my arm, crawling up toward my shoulder as the spell takes hold.

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