Page 7 of Academy of the Wicked, Year Two

"Like what?" I ask, grateful for the shift in conversation. It’s insane to me how he can talk so light-heartedly about something so traumatizingly bound to his experience over the last few years in confinement.

His smile turns enigmatic.

"That's for me to know and you to discover when necessary.” The playfulness in his tone is everything. “Can't reveal all my secrets at once, can I? Where's the mystery in that?"

Despite everything, I find myself smiling back.

I can’t stop myself from smiling genuinely.

"And here I thought we were past playing games with each other."

"Not games," he corrects, his thumb resuming its gentle motion across my knuckles. "Strategy. Year Two isn't going to be forgiving, especially not to those who showed mercy in Year One."

His words remind me of everything at stake – advancement through the academy, finding the chalice for Elena, surviving whatever trials lie ahead.

And now, the added complexity of Atticus' presence, of another bond to navigate alongside those I share with Cassius and Nikolai.

The cavern waits, its entrance aglow with ancient warnings and promises of wickedness. Beyond it lies our future – tests of strength and character, alliances and betrayals, perhaps even death if the prophecy holds true.

Two will fall.

The words echo in my mind, a grim reminder that Year Two won't allow everyone to proceed. Two of us will fail, whether through death or some other, perhaps worse, fate.

I straighten my shoulders, steeling my resolve. Whatever comes next, I face it not as the broken girl Darius left bleeding, nor as the uncertain hybrid who stumbled into bond magic without understanding its consequences.

I face it as Gabriel on the surface, maintaining my disguise in this world of men and monsters. But beneath that, I am Gwenivere, Queen of Spades, with a knight at my side who's proven his loyalty in blood.

"Ready?" Atticus asks, sensing the shift in my demeanor.

"Ready," I confirm, squeezing his hand once before we step forward together, toward the glowing entrance and whatever wickedness waits beyond.

Free Fall Into Uncertainty

~GWENIEVERE~

The moment we step through the glowing entrance, reality shifts.

One instant, we're walking side by side on solid ground; the next, we're plummeting through open air.

"What the—" The words tear from my throat as my arms flail instinctively, seeking purchase where none exists.

The sudden freefall sends my stomach lurching into my throat, that unmistakable sensation of plunging from great heights. Wind whips past my face as I struggle to orient myself.

How did we get to such altitude?

The entrance gave no indication we'd be teleported skyward, yet here we are, hurtling downward at terrifying speed.

The same volcanic landscape stretches below us, lava fields glowing with malevolent light. Streams of purple mist shoot upward from the molten ground, while clouds of black and purple drift ominously above the hellscape.

Understanding dawns as I study their formations – the black must be volcanic ash from eruptions, while the purple carries the same hue as the toxic mist we saw earlier.

I scan the sky frantically, seeking Atticus.

My gaze finds him several yards above, his body positioned in a controlled descent, head swiveling as he assesses our surroundings with practiced precision.

Our eyes lock across the distance.

"The purple's poison!" I shout, my voice nearly lost to the rushing wind. "Black is volcanic!"

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