Page 25 of The Prince of Demons

Despite that, the weight of my shame pulsed on my neck all night, an intimate reminder of the most velvety kiss I’d ever received—and it wasn’t even on the lips.

There was a mark on my neck in the shape of two dark, black wings, and I had to throw on a choker before class to cover it.

Students had their notes pulled out on tables in front of them, scanning readings as Professor Ansi took to the podium.

“Welcome to your first oral exam, slackers,” she said, letting the insult hang in the air. “First to answer each question gets the most points. I’ve used magic to ensure that only one of you gets heard first—whoever started speaking first. Even if you have the right answer, I will silence your mouth if the magic senses you are too slow or unconfident. You’ll also be prohibited from answering the next question as punishment. Points will still be added to your final tally, however, if you are correct on the second question. If you guess nothing, your mouth will be closed for the rest of class.”

She glared at us like a mother scolding her overgrown children.

“It’s always better to answer something rather than nothing. There’s no easier target for a demon than a kid who won’t fight back.”

So, answer quickly. Hope for correctness. That was the lesson she tried to impart here. The hidden curriculum mother warned me about. Speed over content, at least for inexperienced beginners. I supposed that made sense. If I were to encounter a monster tomorrow, I’d be better off staying agile and running away, not dwelling and plotting an offensive strategy.

“Questions get harder as we go. Brace yourselves.”

Cordelia clasped my hand. “We’ve got this.”

“Silence!” Dr. Ansi said. “Any more interruptions will cost you points.” Thuds sounded from students forcibly sitting upright in their seats.

“And remember: if this classroom is stressful, you have no business fighting real creatures of the night.”

She waved her hands, whamming the classroom doors shut. Late students would be locked out entirely.

“First: which House has the highest GPA?”

“Fae House!” Hunter shouted. I had also moved my mouth to respond, and a tally appeared on a slip of paper in front of me. I was right, even though I didn’t get the credit for the first answer.

“Correct,” Dr. Ansi said. “Although we are using points for this oral exam, written exams covering the usual college curriculum will be calculated into GPA, a separate measure at this university from point totals. Faeries have long prided themselves in selecting only the best and brightest.”

“Which House has the highest retention rate?” Dr. Ansi asked next.

“Wolf House!” I yelled. In the corner of my eye, I saw Xavier and Adam’s almost imperceptible nod of approval. “Wolf House protects members of their pack, so they have the lowest fatality rate of any House.”

Hunter shot me a glare. Two black tallies appeared in front of me, so I didn’t mind. I bet he didn’t study any of the Houses besides Fae. As the Fae crown prince, other Houses must be background information to him.

“Which House has the most demon kills?”

“Vamp—” I almost said before I felt a force constricting on my neck.

A tally vanished from my paper.

“Angel House!” Hunter said. “They’re deceptively innocent, so demons let their guard down.” He smirked at me. So he did study other Houses. Beneath the pretty boy facade, he was quick with his answers. I stewed in my frustration, eager to snap back with the next question.

“Very good, Hunter. Angels are opposite to demons, so their opposing magic is double effective.” Ansi scanned the room. “What's the minimum score to pass?”

I held my tongue. The class, too, was silent. She never told us…

“Five,” Dr. Ansi said. “Any less, and you’re withdrawn from the recruitment process, effective immediately.”

Cordelia squeaked in fright. Others shifted and shot panicked glances at each other. My eyes roamed the room. Two tallies for me, three for most of the room. How long was this exam?

“Deokhye women never fail, Luna,” Gaksi murmured in my mind.

“Besides, if you do, that annoying loser wins.”As if on cue, Hunter’s paper slipped off his desk. He reached under to retrieve it, knocking his head on the desk along the way.

“What percent of incoming freshmen will make it to the end of recruitment?”

Two in three, I remembered from our first class. I wished I could answer, but my lips were sealed shut with minty, sticky magic.

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