Page 62 of Escaping Hallow Hill Academy
I amnotafraid.
“Here, chère.” Rue is standing behind the desk, wrenching open the second drawer at the bottom. I hold my breath, but nothing bad happens. It’s not spelled, but with the stench in the air, one can never be too careful.
“Don’t just go around opening drawers willy-nilly,” I chastise, coming around to peer inside. “A plethora of bad things can happen magically.”
“Whatever. Just grab your sword, and let’s go.”
I peer into the contents. Knobs and metal gears lie scattered within. I’m almost too afraid to touch them, but I push them aside and see a dark velvet cloth. Pulling it away reveals the gleaming hilt of my sword.
Damios.
At long last.
The moment my fingers touch the hilt, it flares to life with a brightness as blinding as streaking stars. The runes come to life and seem to wrap around the blade as if they can reach out from the steel and hug me in their arms.
“I missed you.”
Holding it gives me life again. It gives me purpose. It’s like being blessed by my Lady all over again, and this time, I won’t let anyone take what’s rightfully mine. I’d rather die.
“Alright, chère, you done?” Rue’s voice clips with impatience as he slams the drawer shut again. “We have to go now. Quickly.”
I twirl my blade and relish my grip on it for a single moment longer before we rush from the room. The secret passageways close behind Rue until we’re down in that dark room again.
“One more time, chère.”
“What?”
I should’ve seen the orgasm coming, but I didn’t. It hits me. Not just one, but many, coming and coming until my knuckles go white, and I’m nearly falling on the floor. Cries rip from my mouth that I’m sure can be heard down to the dungeons of this fucking place, and they certainly drown away the sound of stone scraping together. My whole body goes slack with my releases, and I can’t move.
Rue has rendered me completely useless.
The cruel, amazing, demented, sweet asshole.
“I’ll take care of you, chère.” Big arms wrap around my body and pull me to his chest. He tucks my blade gently beneath my shirt and angles me so no one can see it. I can do nothing but nuzzle close to his chest.
“I’ll fucking kill you,” I threaten with no real vehemence in those words.
He presses a kiss to my forehead. “I know you will, chère. Sia says Kira is probably in the labs, but they’re heavily guarded right now and we have no way to get to Kira today.” He waits a few moments before kicking open the door and walking into the hall with me in his arms. I can feel the eyes on us. On me. On my frazzled, languid limbs clutched tightly to the Ancient One’s chest like he is cradling a baby.
I feel the eyes on us, but I don’t open my own. Not until he opens the door to my dorm room and places me on the bed. Only then do I take out my sword and hold it close. Despite everything, despite the metal on my spine and everything I suffered, this feels familiar. It feels like I’m whole again.
And while the magic of my heritage washes over me, I can't help but feel something else as well.
I frown. “That was . . . almost . . . too easy.” It shouldn’t have been that easy. No alarms, no guard dogs, nothing to prevent us from just walking in there and taking this. “Why was it so easy?” I question. Nothing good in life ever comes easy, and it makes me nervous that something this important did.
“Why does that make you unhappy?” Rue sits on the edge of the bed, crossing his legs together.
“Because life is all about balance. Light and dark. Good and bad. Take and receive. This seems almost too good to be true. Like, if Krist went through all the trouble of taking this from me, she would have had it better guarded.” It’s almost insulting that she didn’t. I was ready to fight for it and hadn’t been given the opportunity.
Rue waves off my worries with a flick of his hand. “Learn to take things in stride, chère. Not everything and everyone has an ulterior motive. Maybe the headmistress just got cocky. Count it as a blessing.”
Intuition swirls in my blood. The fine hairs along the back of my neck stand one by one.
My Holy Lady of Death hints at something I can’t see.
But I feel it.
“It’s . . . something bad.”
