Page 20 of Academy of the Wicked, Year Two

"The walls have ears,Your Highness. Maybe if you used the brain beneath all that golden hair, you'd realize how many haters dine by your side in this wicked institute that doesn't give a damn if you're royalty."

The Fae prince's aura intensifies, golden light condensing around his hands in preparation for attack. I welcome it, blood singing with anticipation of violence long denied.

"Both of you, shut the fuck up and help!" Cassius snaps, strain evident in his voice as his shadows continue trying to extract Gwenivere from the portal's grip. "I'm not leaving my Queen behind."

"Oh, that's rich," Nikolai scoffs, turning his attention to the Duskwalker. "You're going to play hero when she's unconscious and can't even see what you're doing."

Cassius's shadows writhe with increased agitation, reflecting his barely contained fury.

"WE fucked up by standing back and letting things escalate the way they did," he growls. "If I'd known Damien would pour urine on her as some sick form of humiliation, it never would have happened."

"So you're only realizing this now?" Nikolai counters, incredulity sharpening his tone. "When she's being sucked into an abyss that will probably kill her? Your reaction time is impressively slow for someone with shadow manipulation!"

Their bickering continues as Gwenivere sinks deeper into the portal, only her shoulder and part of her head still visible above the translucent surface. With her obvious unconsciousness and the inability to encourage a continuous flow of magic in such a state, it was only a matter of time before her image as Gabriel would falter.

The countdown continues its merciless progression.

Less than two minutes remaining…

Lysth rises from where he's been tending to Mordax's injuries, his crystalline structure fracturing slightly with movement.

"Nikolai, stop fucking talking and actually use your Fae magic to help!" The sylph's normally melodic voice carries surprising authority. "Pull Gabriel out before they absorb and control him instead of Mortimer!"

As if summoned by his name, the corrupted dragon slams his massive tail against the platform. The impact sends tremors through the obsidian surface, disrupting our balance.

Cassius stumbles forward, momentarily losing concentration as he fights to remain upright.

The portal responds immediately, its suction intensifying with predatory eagerness. The Duskwalker prince curses as he's dragged toward the edge, his shadows stretching to maintain their grip on Gwenivere while simultaneously trying to anchor him to the platform.

I move without conscious thought, my body crossing the distance between us in a blur of trained efficiency. My teeth sink into my own wrist, tearing through flesh with practiced precision.

Blood wells immediately, hot and vibrant against my skin.

With a sharp gesture, I whip my bleeding arm before me. The crimson droplets hang suspended for a heartbeat before igniting with internal fire. Blood magic –one of the forbidden arts I mastered in prison– responds to my command, transforming ordinary fluid into strands of living power.

The blood strings shoot forward, wrapping around Cassius's form in an intricate web of crimson restraint. They pull taut, anchoring him to the platform before he can be dragged any further toward the portal's hungry maw.

"What the—" he begins, silver eyes widening as he takes in the blood-forged bindings now securing him in place.

"Focus on extracting her," I command, maintaining the tension in my magical constructs. "I've got you anchored."

Understanding dawns in his expression.

With renewed concentration, he directs his shadows to strengthen their grip on Gwenivere’s partially submerged form. The darkness coils tighter, pulling with increased determination against the portal's suction.

Slowly, agonizingly, she begins to emerge from the translucent surface. First her shoulders, then the curve of her neck become visible as Cassius's shadows drag her back toward our reality.

"Something's happening," Lysth calls, his crystalline voice fracturing with alarm.

He's right.

As Gwenivere’s form emerges further from the portal, her appearance begins to flicker and shift. The magical glamour maintaining Gabriel's form destabilizes, unable to withstand the corrupted energy coursing through her system.

One moment she appears as Gabriel – the male student with silver hair and masculine features. The next, her true formflashes through – Gwenivere, with softer lines and unmistakably feminine contours.

"What the fuck is going on?" Lysth demands, his crystalline structure refracting light in patterns of confusion and alarm. "Is Gabriel...transforming? I-Into a girl?"

My blood strings tighten, pulling Cassius more securely against the platform as I maintain the anchoring spell.

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