Page 97 of Academy of the Wicked, Year One

“Alright, fight or flight,” he starts, his tone instructive as though he’s trying to calm a feral animal. “You’re probably disoriented, so let’s just?—”

Before he can finish, my hand shoots out, latching onto his neck with a strength that surprises even me. I’m moving before I fully register what’s happening, slamming him to the ground with enough force to knock the breath out of him.

He gasps, his hands clawing at my grip, but I’m already lifting my free hand, flames igniting in my palm.

The heat is instantaneous, licking at my fingertips as my nails elongate into sharp, almost claw-like points.

My eyes zero in on his neck, where his veins pulse rhythmically, taunting me. A desperate hunger claws at my mind, obliterating reason. My fangs extend with a hiss that reverberates through the air, and I lean closer, drawn to the promise of life coursing beneath his skin.

Damien’s eyes widen, panic flashing across his face.

“Oh, fuck?—”

Before I can sink my teeth into him, tendrils of shadow and vines wrap around my body, pulling me back just enough to halt my attack.

I hiss, thrashing against the restraints with a strength I didn’t know I possessed. The shadows tighten, but they’re no match for my fury. Flames erupt from my skin, burning through some of the bindings before a third thread of silver coils around me, constricting me like a snake.

“Hold her,” Mortimer’s voice commands, calm but firm.

The combined restraints manage to stop me inches from Damien’s throat. I snarl, my fangs bared, pulling against the binds with everything I have.

The hunger is unbearable, a gnawing desperation that clouds all rational thought.

“For a new student, this one is extremely powerful,” a voice remarks, smooth and laced with intrigue. It takes me a moment to place it: Eternalis, the female professor with an air of unshakable authority. The student conversation regarding thevarious professors rings in my mind for a few seconds before I turn my gaze momentarily to acknowledge her.

She observes me with a faint smile, her arms crossed as though she’s watching an experiment unfold. My mind is too frantic to take in further details but she looks fascinated by my wakeful reaction.

“Especially with such low blood reserves.”

“Can’t you interfere instead of standing there admiring her like she’s some sort of prodigy?” Damien chokes out, his voice hoarse as he claws at the restraints around his neck.

Eternalis chuckles softly, tilting her head.

“I don’t quite understand why you four keep callinghimashe,but I suppose I could interfere. After all, he did complete the trials. But if you’re looking for a quick fix, he needs blood. Lots of it. Are you volunteering as tribute, Damien?”

“Fuck the hell I won’t,” Damien snaps, his voice cracking under the strain of my grip.

Eternalis sighs, shaking her head.

“I expected more honesty from the Vampire Prince. You’re so busy trying to look cool, that I’m beginning to wonder if that’s your eternal premise. You’ll never ascend to Pureblood potential with such attitude."

“What?” Damien croaks, his confusion barely registering before I headbutt him, forcing his vampire instincts into full throttle.

He hisses back at me, his fangs flashing as he lets loose a string of curses.

“Fucking cunt! I’ll show you who's the more powerful being of blood and shadows!”

The interaction is enough to tick me off, flames flaring from my skin in a sudden, explosive wave. The fire changes color, shifting into shades of vibrant purple and sickly green.

The heat forces Cassius, Mortimer, and Nikolai to retreat several steps, cursing as they shield their faces.

“Poison flames,” Eternalis muses, her tone admiring. “Fascinating. I wonder what family line could produce such a remarkable hybrid. A true art, keeping him hidden this long.”

“Anyone going to save me?!” Damien shouts, his voice cracking with desperation as I tighten my grip on him.

There’s a blur of motion, and suddenly, I’m locked in a clash with Cassius. His shadows coil tightly around me, and I’m so focused on Damien that I barely register the change.

My fangs sink into flesh, and the taste of blood floods my senses. I can’t stop my eyes from rolling as the flow of metallic thickness floods my mouth like a fountain of life, the taste-making me groan in relief.

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