Obsidian and Frost (WRAEVEN Academy #1)

Chapter 1

~Velra~

Broken.

Tainted.

Wrong.

The surrounding darkness wanted me to know it.

It wanted me to feel the brutal, undeniable truth, and drink it down.

And the shadows swirling all around desired more than that.

They sought to bleed it out of me.

There was no ground beneath my feet—nothing solid—but I kept moving forward.

This place was nothing and everything.

I couldn’t turn back—there was nowhere to turn to.

That was long gone.

It had been for a while.

A chill sent a shudder through me.

And that was more than a little worrying, considering that I didn’t actually feel the cold.

I was that chill.

It was what I brought to everything I touched.

Everyone.

I stilled in my step—not everyone. There was one exception.

But he was gone now too.

As that thought resonated, the static darkness enveloping me came alive.

Swirling tendrils of shadow reached for me, drawing closer and closer.

Echoing screams reverberated all around me, a brutal cacophony of pain, judgment, and punishment.

“You were supposed to fall!”

“You are poison!”

“There is no place for you!”

“Kneel to your fate.”

“Fall!”

“Fall!”

“Fall, tainted half-breed!”

The shadows brushed against my skin, the leather of my pants and my corset top, even sinking into my hair.

I shrieked as searing pain tore through me, threatening to rip me apart at the seams.

And then a detonation of white light blasted them away from me. As I saw them retreat into the darkness, still hovering, but at a distance, I spun toward the light.

And then he stepped through.

“Cassius,” I breathed.

The one who’d saved me.

Former True Celestial and now a Fallen.

He was still very much a powerhouse with the body of a warrior god, all broad shoulders and girth, towering with sculpted muscle.

His ethereal white-blond hair brushed the shoulders of his white linen shirt, and his gold leather pants pulled taut across his thick thighs as he strode toward me with all that natural might and commanding presence.

He stopped right in front of me, concern bleeding through. “You don’t belong here.”

“What?” I rasped.

“We’ve done this, little shadow.”

“I… I don’t understand.”

“You shouldn’t be here. You are beyond this.” He gestured around at the shadows that had partially retreated, but still remained in our vicinity. “You are the shadows—these here cannot control you.”

I reached up and cupped his face. “Help me cast them away.”

His eyes shone, need he’d always fought so hard clear as the brightest day now.

Finally.

He dipped his head.

And that was it.

I locked my hands around his neck and rose to it, our mouths clashing.

Fiercely.

Hungrily.

Desperately.

He fisted my hair, tugging and stroking in a delectable way, giving away how wild and unhinged his desire for me was in that moment, how he was barely holding it together.

Because of me.

Because of what I did to him.

Because of what we did to each other.

Sensations so long denied for both of us surged forth like an inferno of uncontrollable passion and need that I could hardly breathe through.

I didn’t want to breathe in this moment.

I just wanted to feel and to feel deeply.

For once.

After so fucking long.

I deepened the kiss and moaned into his mouth as he grasped my thighs and wrapped them around him, hauling me up against him.

And then I was grinding on him, feeling his hard dick right where I needed him.

He gave it right back to me, rubbing me against him roughly, frantically, until sexy rumbling growls were spilling from him, even as he devoured my mouth.

I grasped his shirt, intending to rip the thing off him so I could feel him skin-to-skin.

“Velra,” he choked, suddenly breaking our kiss.

“What are you—”

He put me down and stepped back, and an awful coldness rolled over me again.

“This cannot be.”

“It just was, Cassius.”

“A mistake.”

My gut twisted. “No. It wasn’t. It was far from that.”

“We don’t belong.”

“Don’t. Stop doing this. Every fucking time!” I slammed my hands into his chest and screamed at the top of my lungs, “Stop! Stop! Stop doing this to me!”

He stared at me impassively.

There was nothing there.

I went to scream again, but no sound came out.

I screamed and screamed but it just continued to go unheard.

And then he turned away.

I bolted forward to reach for him, to stop him from leaving yet again.

But a flash of white light swallowed him in a blink.

It was too late.

It was always too late.

Those taunts from the shadows started up again.

They started to come for me.

“Not this time,” I ground out.

I called my shadow magic and slammed my palms together.

A shockwave of my own shadows radiated out, decimating the enemy all around.

And then it all slipped away.

I shot up in bed, panting, and slapping my hand to my chest.

Sweat drenched me.

Not again.

I grounded myself by focusing on the room around me.

The guestroom in the home of Cornelius Martel and Warlow Boyd where I’d been staying for the last few months.

The light from the rising sun in the distance spilled in through the grand arched window, illuminating the gray stone floor.

The whole space was restrained opulence and elegance, from the deep charcoal walls trimmed with faux silver, to the plush tufted headboard of the bed.

Even the bed itself was covered in deep gray and midnight linens.

A crystal chandelier hung low from the ceiling. An upholstered chair that was beyond comfy stood near the window where I’d spent a lot of time looking out at the expansive grounds deep in thought.

I shot a burst of my purple magic through the bedroom and into the ensuite to my left, turning on the shower.

Then I stripped myself of my pajamas with a snap of my fingers, before teleporting myself right into the shower.

It was what I always did when I woke up like that.

When I jolted back to reality panting and sweating.

I reached for a bottle of lavender shower gel, needing to cleanse my skin of the sweat—and other things—before washing my long ombre hair that was a striking contrast with stark white at the top, which then gave way to deep black half way down.

As I soaped up, I worked to ground myself back in the moment by focusing on my surroundings while the soothing warm water and soap worked in tandem.

The bathroom was no less lavish than the bedroom, with black tiles cloaking the walls and floor, gleaming faintly under the soft lights overhead. A freestanding soaking tub was situated in one corner beneath another stunning chandelier.

The shower surrounding me was built into the wall and framed by slate-toned tile that gave off cool luxury vibes. I looked out through the arched window mirroring the one in the bedroom, taking a moment to use the picturesque view of the surrounding forest to center myself.

I finished washing my body, then moved to my hair.

He fisted my hair, tugging and stroking in a delectable way, giving away how wild and unhinged his desire for me was in that moment, how he was barely holding it together.

I blinked away that memory, forcing it down quickly.

Son of a bitch.

Those hellish nightmares.

The symbolism was the same—always with the shadows and the taunts, then with my screams going unheard—but the part with Cassius was only once in a while.

I slapped my hand to my head. Holy hell. Having him on my mind and in that physically appetizing way, no less, was one of the worst days for it.

I was starting my new life today.

And Cassius wasn’t a part of that.

He’d made it clear that he didn’t ever intend to be.

Even though there was an undeniable connection between us.

Not just metaphorically or attraction-wise—we were Soul Branded.

It didn’t make us mates or anything like that, but we were tethered in a different way, a way in which neither of us fully understood. A way he didn’t want to understand.

A few months ago, he’d saved my life from a murder attempt orchestrated by my brother, Sorin, who was an agent of Puritas, a fanatical group who wanted to rid the world of what I was—a hybrid.

Cassius had pulled me from death. It had been a violation of Celestial Law and he’d risked the wrath of those he’d served at the time—the True Celestials of the Celestial Plane—those up on high. Almighty deities.

He’d been sent here to train Ariana Martel, the only angel—True Celestial—ever birthed outside the Celestial Plane.

When he’d discovered their true despicable intent behind that, that they’d wanted to take Ariana out and also gain a dangerous and controlling foothold over the supernatural world, he’d allied with her, her boyfriends, and her powerful family which consisted of other Fallen and leaders of the supernatural world.

That alliance had resulted in them managing to sever the connection between the Celestial Plane and our mortal world a couple of months later. Cassius had almost died fulfilling his part of that Severance spell. I’d felt him through our Soul Brand bond and assisted just in time to save him.

But not before the Celestial Plane had punished him by making him a Fallen—or an Immortal as was the more common term.

Since that day, about three months ago, I hadn’t seen or heard from him.

Not once.

And that’s okay.

It was okay.

Honestly, it had to be.

Especially today.

I was starting out on a new path.

One that would change everything—in the best ways imaginable.

Not more hiding for me.