Of Bone and Ash (Silverwood University Book 1)

5. Serafina

FIVE

“Don”t go, you just got back,” I whisper, tears falling down my cheeks as I stare up at my best friend. My hands are twisting together as anxiety rolls through me, making my skin itch. We are standing in the foyer of our house, the Christmas decorations twinkling around us.

Ryland jerks his eyes away from me, and I can see him swallow, jaw clenched, as he shakes his head. “Draga Mea, I have to. I already told them I would take the job and need to be there tomorrow,” he says, his voice cold and unresponsive—so unlike my friend.

He’s been acting weird for a few weeks now, no longer joking and messing around with me like he used to. The other night, I sat next to him on the couch during family movie night, and he stood up so fast you would have thought I burned him. He blustered some stupid excuse about needing to go check on something before running out of the room.

I saw the looks of concern on my brother”s face as Ryland”s dad, my Uncle Zane, ran after him. When I looked at my brother, he smiled and shook his head.

“Don”t worry. It”s a Dragon thing,” he says with a shrug, trying to play off Ryland”s behavior as if it were normal. It wasn’t. I knew it wasn’t.

Ry was gone for three days after that, and when he returned, he was different. He didn’t hold my hand when we crossed the street, like he always did when we were out shopping. He purposely sat in the armchair that only fit him during movie nights, and he stopped smiling. That was the worst of them all.

“I don”t understand why you have to go to work at that school. You were offered a job at Black Veil, which is only a couple hours away from us,” I whisper, crossing my arms over my chest as I watch him step over to the stairs and grab the large black bag he packed up. I wonder what he packed. It doesn”t look like much.

Ry has been in our family since my brother and uncles found him half-dead in a testing facility where they used and hurt Fae children. He was only thirteen at the time, and my brother applied to foster him until they could find a permanent home for him. After a few months, Ryland and Uncle Zane, had bonded, their Dragons forming a familial link, and Ryland was officially part of the family. It”s been eight years… Eight years of ups and downs. Eight years of helping each other through our shared trauma. Eight years, and all he has now is a large bag in his hands.

“Because they have the Balaur Patrol, and I want to be around my kind,” he replies, making me frown. His kind? As in Dragons?

“What about Zane?” I ask in a huff, frustration slowly creeping in.

“Zane supports my decision, Serafina,” Ryland growls, annoyance thick in his tone as he heaves the bag over his shoulder.

“What about me?” I rasp, the knot in my throat thickening as I desperately try to stop the tears trailing down my face.

“You”ll be fine. You have Gabe and Dani…” he trails off, still not looking at me.

“I won”t,” I deny, shaking my head. Just the thought of Ryland leaving is tearing me apart. Something inside me slowly withers away the longer he keeps his distance from me. “I… I need you, Ry,” I whisper, reaching out to grab his hand. Ryland growls and jerks out of my reach, making me freeze as he finally looks back at me, and I can”t help but flinch back at the cold glare on his face. “What’s wrong?” I ask in a desperate attempt to get him to talk to me again. “I can’t help if you don”t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing is wrong. I just need to do this, Fina. I”m an adult. It”s time I grow up and leave,” he snaps, dark eyes glimmering with gold.

“I don’t want you to leave!” I snap back, my frustration bleeding to anger as a dark shadow falls over us, my magic coming out to play.

“Knock it off. You don”t want to hurt anyone,” Ry growls, darting forward and taking my trembling hands in his as he adds his magic to the mix, soothing my deadly fog until it fades into nothingness. Ryland shakes his head, breathing heavily as he drops my hands, but I reach out, catching his big fingers in my small hands, and hold on tight.

“See! I need you here!” I yell, my voice intensifying and cracking from years of disuse as I gesture around me. He just proved what I’m talking about. How can he not see that? No one—not even my brother—can calm my magic the way Ryland can.

In a desperate attempt to keep him here, I lunge up, pressing myself onto my toes, and take his lips with mine, my tears mingling into our kiss. Ryland freezes, and I hold my breath, worried he’s going to push me away.

We don”t do this. We never do this; it”s just that I’ve loved him for so long! I need him to stay here, and I will do everything I can to show him that. My heart sores as Ryland’s soft lips hesitantly move against mine, and I swear I could cry from relief alone. My legs shake as Ryland kisses me back, his strong body steps forward, and a rumbling, almost purr-like sound I’ve never heard before echoes from his chest. His hands yank from mine, and suddenly I’m lifted in the air, my back colliding with the wall as Ryland’s hips pin me there.

I feel the solid length of his cock hard in his pants and moan, gasping into his kiss as Ryland takes control, his fingers weaving themselves into my hair, tilting my head to the side so he can devour my mouth. I try to keep up, unsure if I”m kissing him right. This is the first kiss I have ever had, but fuck, it was so worth the wait!

“Ryland,” I gasp when he slows the kiss, my hips rocking instinctually into his, earning a devilish growl in response.

“Fina,” he rasps against my lips before drawing my bottom one between his and nipping it with sharper-than-normal teeth.

“Ohh!” I whimper, and I shiver as I press myself into his muscular body. Like a light switch being flipped, Ryland freezes, and my heart stutters in my chest as he slowly releases my lips and pulls back. We stare into each other”s eyes. His pupils are dilated, and the gold of his eyes is so bright I swear I see flame lighting their depths.

“Ry?” I whisper, then gasp as he suddenly steps back, letting my feet fall to the ground. Ryland shakes his head, eyes wide in horror, as he stares at me like I’m a monster. He takes an unsteady step back, then another. “Ryland, wait…” I say as I watch him lose his shit. He’s going to run. I know he is.

Shit! I shouldn”t have kissed him.

“No!” Ryland shouts when I take a step toward him. He holds up a trembling hand and shakes his head, the heat in his eyes moving from aroused to hatred. “No! Serafina! You are a child!” he growls as he runs a hand through his thick, black hair. “Fuck!” he snarls, twisting on his heel as he strides for the front door.

“No!” I scream, my heart pounding. “No. I need you, please! I swear I won”t do that again! Please, Ryland! I need you to stay!” Ryland”s hand falls on the door handle as he freezes, and I hold my breath. Please, please, please, I mentally chant, a sob bursting between my lips when Ryland”s shoulders sag as he opens the door.

“I can’t stay, Serafina. You’ll have to find a new fix. I can”t put my life on hold just to keep you from killing people. What you need is a friend your age to hang out with. You’re a child, Serafina! We’ve been around each other for too long, and your obsession is not healthy. You need to talk to your therapist and deal with your problems,” Ryland snarls, and smoke billows from his flared nostrils.

I stumble back from my friend, the man I trust with every part of my soul, as he walks out the door, not looking back. The door slams shut, making the walls of the house tremble, and my knees give out. My body falls to the floor as darkness rushes in from all directions.

Cold sweat runs down my spine as dread pools in my stomach. I look up into the canopy of thick trees, the eerie fog circling my feet, crawling up my legs, keeping my feet planted to the dark earth below. An odd feeling of weightlessness pulls at my body, and the dark strands of hair that cascade over my slim shoulders slowly drift into the air.

What the hell is going on? I’m dreaming… I know I am. The dream of Ryland leaving me is a constant nightmare of mine. But this… this feels different.

The feeling of death hangs in the air—something that normally doesn”t phase me, but this seems… different. The darkness I usually welcome is heavier, laden with the stench of rotten flesh, and I have to fight the instinct to gag at the terrible smell. Whatever that is is not coming from my magic, but something else.

Something or someone is watching me. I can feel its eyes on me as it slowly circles the trees, just out of view. Flexing my fingers, I let out some of my deadly black magic and grin as a rush of relief courses through me at the rare feeling of magical freedom. My magic circles through the air, dropping the ambient temperature before it stills, holding its position, waiting on my command.

The fog below flickers, thinning in areas as it slowly inches up my legs. I see that I’m standing in a circle, weird marks etched into the ground at my feet, and… what the hell?! Bright blonde hair is fanned out on the ground next to me, and I curse as my eyes move to the sunken face of a girl lying only a foot away. My nose wrinkles at the stench of decay, and fury builds in my chest as I stare at her haunting, unseeing green eyes.

The heavy darkness of the fog pushes at my magic barriers, and I feel my Reaper form inching closer and closer to the surface in defense.

“You really shouldn”t play with things stronger than you,” I whisper to the thing watching me, tilting my head to the right when I hear the telling snap of a twig breaking underfoot. The fog at my feet thickens, and I bite my lip as whatever magic holds me brushes against the sliver of bare skin above my ankle boot. Pain rushes through every molecule of my being, and my back arches, but instead of a scream, a low, throaty laugh breaks from between my lips.

Magic races down my arms, and something stronger… something foreign—that I have slowly gotten used to living with shifts inside my mind, allowing me to break from my physical form. The pain my body is feeling no longer affects me as the world around me darkens, the already dark night turning sightless. I feel a smile grow on my face as I open my eyes. The details of the world have plunged into a void of black, though easily discernible to me as my limbs twitch like I’m being electrocuted.

“Fine,” I snarl, and I shiver at the sound of my deep voice.

Deep, deep down, there is a part of me that hates this side of me. I’m scared that one day she’ll take over and never let me back out. But then there are times like this when I know I could never survive whatever is currently attacking me without it, and I’m grateful to let the darkness take over.

“Let”s play,” I snarl, dipping my head as my magic, which has been hovering in the air, plummets to the ground, attacking the fog with the brutality of a feral animal. My legs are free in seconds, and I’m striding forward, eyes scanning the forest as I raise my hands, palms up, and send my magic into the trees beyond. Howls and cries of the wildlife beyond sound around me, then silence, their lives ripping from their bodies in seconds, feeding the growing darkness as it searches for the monster it craves.

A deep laugh flows through the air, and I still when I realize it is no longer coming from me but something else.

“You shall be fun to play with, little Reaper,” the voice rasps, its words echoing softly like we’re trapped in a never-ending cave. “Welcome home, child.”

Light spills into my room,making me wince as reality slowly comes back to me. The annoying sound of my morning alarm rings through the air, and I grimace as I open my eyes and scowl at the ceiling above. Blinking a few times, I try to figure out what just happened. As the memories of my fucked-up dream slowly come back to me, I groan and rub a hand over my eyes.

“What the hell kind of dream was that?” I rasp as I sit up in bed, then groan for a different reason. My arms tremble, my back screams, and my legs feel like Jello as I turn to sit at the edge of my bed. Every inch of my body feels like it was sent through a damn woodchipper.

“Ow,” I whisper under my breath as I lean forward and swipe the screen of my phone plugged in on my bedside table. The loud alarm stops, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I slowly take note of all the different aches and pains in my body. “Shower, coffee, then pondering the weird dream,” I groan out loud as I stand on shaking legs and move to the small ensuite. My brain feels like a fog is lingering, making everything from last night feel like a dream itself.

“Maybe the jerky I ate for dinner went bad or something,” I tell myself as I strip down and turn on the shower, making sure it’s hot to help remove some of the chill deep inside me. I should have gone to the dining hall for dinner,I mentally add, hating myself for being too tired to do so.

Stepping under the hot shower spray, I release the small glamor spell I have on me at all times, only ever letting it down during my showers when I know no one will see. I eye the thin white lines on my arms, some hidden by the small floral tattoo that circles my upper arm, before glancing down at the thicker, rougher lines on my thighs and hips. None of them are straight, which drives me mad.

As a teen, I craved the pain. I needed it to feel alive and didn”t care what I had to do to get the small thrill that cutting my flesh gave me. The burst of adrenaline gave me more than anything else, and I chased that high like an addict did their next fix. Thankfully, I already possessed enough magic at such a young age to hide my activities. And after a time and one really scary close call, I managed to keep my cutting to my fingers, and only when I’m desperate for control.

It”s been almost a year since I had a dream of Ryland. I’ve been able to suppress the memories of him rather well over the last few months. But coming to the school where he used to work must have brought up the old memories. I overheard Gabe say Ry left Silverwood more than a year ago when the ruling Dragon heir of Romania asked for his assistance with one of his sons. Ry hadn”t wanted to go, but apparently, turning down what is essentially the king of Dragons would be a poor political move, and Gabe told him to go. That information is the only reason I came here to help Atlas.

I sigh and close my eyes, trying to will away the vision of Ryland”s cold, hard eyes as he glared down at me. I let the hot water course over my sore muscles before reaching out and grabbing my body wash. I quickly lather a good amount of cranberry and spice soap between my hands and clean my body, scrubbing every inch from my head down to my toes. As I lift one foot, I frown, my eyes zeroing in on the purple bruise that circles my ankle. Darting my gaze to my other leg, I find a matching bruise, the purple color dark and vivid against my skin.

Memories of the pain that radiated through my body moments before my magic took over plague me as I quickly wash my hair and rinse off, no longer taking my time as my mind spins. What the hell happened during my dream last night? And why do I think it wasn”t actually a dream?

“Can’t get bruises from dreams,” I mutter to myself, lowering my foot back down to the ground and rinsing off quickly before turning off the shower and getting ready for the day. I have too much to do today to worry about weird dreams and bruises. I’ll have to talk to Atlas later and ask him what he thinks happened.

I throw my long hair into a tight, high ponytail on top of my head before applying my makeup, going extra heavy on the eyeliner as I study my appearance in the large mirror. Then look from my bright gray eyes to my too-small nose, where there are a smattering of freckles. I despise them and cover them up on a daily basis.

My lips are full, their color lingering on the darker side of maroon rather than red, making my pale cheeks look ashy if I don’t add blush or bronzer, which I don”t mind doing. There is something about having my hair done and makeup flawless that helps me feel more confident—a shield I use to hide the monster inside.

After thirty minutes of prepping, I glance down and curse under my breath when I realize I’m going to be late meeting up with Adam. I set my morning alarm later than usual to rest after traveling over the last two days, but now I regret my decision.

Rushing out to my small bedroom, I walk to the armoire and pull out my favorite black Chanel dress. The fabric is soft and comfortable, while the lines of the dress give the appearance of extra length to my already tall body. It”s a three-quarter sleeve with a low scoop neck, and one look out the window at the stormy sky has me reaching in for a pair of thick tights and a black cardigan for added warmth.

My phone beeps, and I glance at the screen, seeing an email from Atlas with my new class schedule. “Shit,” I growl under my breath when I look at the time and notice it”s already nine, and I need to be at the dining hall. I check to ensure my glamor spell is in place, then rush from the room, grabbing my bag and toeing on the heels from yesterday before running out the door.

Voices echo through the gray stone halls as I walk through them, moving to the stairs and walking from my building without making eye contact with the handful of students hanging out in the common areas. The courtyard is bustling with activity, no longer the quiet, peaceful place it was when I arrived yesterday. Groups of students crowd around every table, some with textbooks open, others laughing with phones in hand while visiting with their friends.

I walk past a group of tall boys, all wearing letterman jackets with Silverwood Devils written in bold letters on the backs. Large black and gold embroidery numbers embellish each coat as the boys shoulder through packs of students, leaving twitterpated girls in their wake.

A smirk tries to take over the indifferent expression I’ve taught myself to wear in public as I watch the girls twirl their hair and blink their long eyelashes at the boys. The boys do their part, one noticing the pretty girls and winking at them while the other elbows one of his friends and nods at the girls in unison, earning delighted giggles.

A brief flare of jealousy burns through me as I watch the girls. Not because they are getting attention or because they are stunning, because they definitely are. But because I know I’ll never have an interaction like that. It”s silly to want a simple thing like flirting, but I do. I want to know what it would be like for someone to see me and wink. To smile at me and want to get to know me.

I frown and pull my attention away from the giggling girls, my shoulders stiff as I stomp across the courtyard. I ignore the random boy whose eyes widen when he sees me coming and pivots on his heel to rush in the opposite direction.

Maybe if I didn’t glare at everyone, I’d get different reactions. But it”s hard when all I have ever known is people”s fear. I navigate across a particularly crowded part of the courtyard, taking care not to touch anyone or let my magic slip. I stand up on my toes to double-check I’m still heading toward the dining hall, then gasp as I run into someone. Stumbling back a little, I blink in surprise when I hear them curse and their hands clamp down on my shoulders, stopping me from falling on my ass in the wet grass.

“Shit, sorry about that,” the guy says, an edge of frustration in his voice as he helps right me.

“No. It was my fault I wasn’t watching where I was going,” I grumble, my voice cracking in embarrassment and making my cheeks flame. I look up at the guy and offer him a tight-lipped smile, quickly stepping back from his hands when my magic shifts at the stranger”s touch. The guy is about my height and has short brown hair and eyes. There’s nothing extraordinary about him, but there is a feeling of softness that my magic clings to that has me studying him a little longer than normal. Unsurprisingly, the guy”s eyes widen when my magic shifts, his hands lowering instantly as he steps back. He doesn”t run, but he doesn”t look comfortable either. Slowly, a sour scent fills the space between us and I sigh.

See, this is what I’m talking about. Fear. It”s always everyone’s first response.

“Uh, sorry again,” the guy mutters, shifting on his feet like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Gorden!” a deep voice yells, drawing our attention over to a crowded table where girls in tight black and gold tracksuits sit with big burly guys in letterman jackets hovering over them.

I look back at the guy, Gorden, and realize he’s wearing a matching jacket and frown. He looks way too small to be a rugby player. With the size of most of the guys around here, I would think this guy would get crushed.

“I’m gonna go…” the guy mutters awkwardly, looking at me once more, eyes shifting to mine for the briefest of moments as I nod, then watch as he scampers away. The guys at the table grin, a few of them clapping Gorden”s shoulder as he joins them, and I’m just about to turn and head back in the direction of the dining hall when the sun decides to break through the gray clouds above. Curly, black hair that holds an almost unnatural gold sheen catches my attention, making my breath hitch and my heart stall painfully in my chest.

“No fucking way is my luck that bad,” I whisper to myself as I lean around the crush of bodies swarming the area. I scowl at them and step back, needing to know I’m just crazy and I’m seeing things, when my eyes suddenly collide with a beautiful set of hazel ones. My stomach plummets and my arms are going numb as I watch the boy from my past slowly stand from the picnic table he was sitting at. His eyes are wide with shock, and his plump lips are mouthing a name I never thought I would hear again.

Bile crawls up my throat as visions of the past collide with my present.

The scent of warm amber fills the air as a strong, warm palm cups my cheek. Soft hazel eyes stare down at me with a warmth I never knew existed until I saw it in his gaze. The firm, gentle press of his lips commands mine in a slow dance that makes my heart skip and feel alive for the first time.

I gaspfor breath as the boy takes a small step forward. My lungs are burning; I feel like I’m drowning! More memories slam into me, making me stumble back, needing to keep distance between us as my nightmare plays out in my mind.

The sound of the ambulance as it screeched to a halt outside my house. His cold, still body lying on my bed, my hand pressed to his chest as I scream for help. Those lips, which just made me feel something extraordinary, turning blue as I cried his name.

“Teos? What”s wrong, baby?”a dainty blonde calls out, standing from the table and taking hold of his thick arm, looking up at him with stars in her eyes. I don’t blame her. All I wanted was to look at him the same way. I can feel my throat tighten with pain that I desperately try to shove away, but I know I’m only moments away from losing control.

Both emotional and magical.

I watch him, Teos Ramadan. The boy who fought his way into my life despite my warnings of danger. The boy who made me feel like the most precious thing in the world. The boy I killed with a simple kiss.

My lips tremble, my flesh pebbling as Teos’ shock slowly melts into something darker—something I know all too well.

Anger.

I shake my head, heat pooling in my eyes as I turn and run, ignoring the shout of my name as I go.