Chapter 2
~Sylas~
Leaving for college.
Wraeven Academy, here I come.
Motherfucker.
I, Sylas Morgrave—twenty-four-year-old, renowned and revered necromancer, elite magic-wielder, and highly accomplished in my field with supreme control over my power and abilities—was being forced to attend a fucking academy.
Unfortunately, it had been made clear to me, after suffering several arrests for my vigilante activities and unsanctioned use of necromantic dominance, that it was either this or time in The Void, a supernatural prison devoid of magic.
It had gone along the lines of this:
“I did what was necessary!” I boomed at the Guardians surrounding me, the fuckers having me bound by Inhibitor cuffs that were meant to nullify magic usage. They didn’t know that they didn’t work on me. Only one person did.
And I saw that person round the corner and take in what was happening.
Ryker Morgan. Head of the Guardian Movement.
He looked as smoking as ever with his overgrown brown crew cut, those striking green eyes, and that silky white shirt over a pair of tight leather pants that did his ass a hell of a lot of justice.
Mmm. Too bad he was taken.
The Guardians jolted me forward and it had my frustration at the entire situation sparking again. “They would have torn that village apart if I hadn’t intervened!”
“Necromantic domination is outlawed,” one of them retorted.
“As is vigilante activity,” the other said.
“So I should have simply turned away when I happened upon those bloodsuckers ravaging innocent people? Was that the solution?”
Ryker strode up to me.
“You know very well what you should have done, Sylas. Reached out to the Guardian Movement. To me. I gave you my card and you know I can respond in seconds. However, you wished to be the one to handle it. And, worryingly, it wasn’t to play hero. It was to act as judge, punisher, and executioner.”
I smiled to myself. That last part had been true.
I wasn’t gonna deny it.
I didn’t want to deny it.
The people I went after deserved my wrath.
Unfortunately, the Guardian Movement hadn’t seen it that way, and that day I’d been given my marching orders:
“These two are going to escort you to the Unity Council wherein you’ll sit with an Academy Induction Advisor and enroll in an academy that they determine will best suit you and your abilities.”
“A… what? You can’t be serious?”
“This is your fifth offense. Given the nature of it, you’re looking at several years in The Void. Or you can choose this.”
“An attempt to reel me in?”
“To guide you. To provide you purpose and direction. To help you, Sylas.”
I blew out a breath. “Fine. Fine. I’ll fucking… I’ll do it.”
“Good answer. Smart choice.”
Choice?
Not exactly.
Yeah, no. No fucking way on being locked up.
I mean, I was all for solitude. It was kind of my thing.
But being without my magic wasn’t an option.
My magic was me.
I gritted my teeth. It was something this fucking infection ravaging my body now, thanks to that psychopath, Corvin Morvain, was threatening to take from me.
Speaking of said infection, I finished up packing my serum into one entire suitcase—fifty of them. Vials of milky liquid with vibrant red flecks of my magic, along with several syringes. That would last me for a while, just in case I couldn’t get back here as quickly as I wanted.
I had shit to do. Yes, my vigilante activities.
And that would be on top of Wraeven and my role in Arcanum Order.
I’d already set up a spell on this end that I just needed to anchor to my dorm room once I arrived that would allow me to bypass the lockdown protocol of the dorms in that place so that I could come and go as I pleased, unlike the other students.
I’d just closed that suitcase when the front door of my small log cabin blew open with a blast of rose-gold magic, cutting right through my ward in the process.
Very few people could manage that.
And then one such rarity stepped into view across the threshold.
Kai Hunter, one hell of a sorcerer prodigy.
A hot piece who was unfortunately also taken and part of a closeknit foursome. Also, we’d gone there once and he couldn’t handle me topping. I couldn’t do it any other way and he couldn’t compromise on that either.
Fortunately, it had led to a deeper friendship, so it had actually worked out for the better.
And he was helping me with this fucked-up infection. When we had spare time at Arcanum Order, we were working to find a cure.
“Always with the dramatic entrances, huh?” I spoke. “Just couldn’t resist?”
And I couldn’t resist looking him over with a flirtatious eye, taking in his sexy brown crew cut with the textured waves on top that made his hazel eyes pop, his hard leather trench coat with the collar turned up. A fitted black tee was nestled beneath and paired with tailored black pants.
“Came to wish you well on your first day at Wraeven.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Ryker sent you to make sure I was actually headed there and not trying to get around it?”
“He’s handed that to Cornelius now.”
Basically, Kai’s grandfather-in-law.
I mean, their foursome—the angel Ariana, the Incubus-Sorcerer Nyx, the dragon Vorzyr, and Kai—weren’t actually married. After everything they’d been through, they weren’t exactly fans of institutions. But point made, nonetheless.
“I would’ve come anyway, Sylas.”
“Missed me?”
“I saw you five days ago.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
His gaze darted to my two suitcases. He knew I packed light, so I saw him quickly doing the math there, figuring out that one was full of my serum.
“The status hasn’t changed. Three injections a day hold off the desiccation. The serum is even still being created constantly in the kitchen on my worktable, thanks to Ariana imbuing it with her power so that the manufacturing of it can be perpetual.”
Thanks to what that maniacal Ancient Vampire-Sorcerer, Corvin, had done to me during a fucked-up encounter that not even Kai knew the full story of, he’d extracted a portion of my necromantic core that had destabilized my magical makeup and then he’d even injected me with a poison he’d developed through his Chimera Circle connections that tried to turn me into some botched form of a vampire, which meant I started desiccating—every few hours now—if I didn’t inject myself with the serum I’d created.
But that wouldn’t last indefinitely.
I’d already begun to develop a resistance to it.
The only way to survive was to find a cure.
That had been made far more complicated by the fact that Corvin was dead and we’d been able to obtain his blood, but not his magic before he’d met his demise.
“Don’t worry, Kai. I’m going to Wraeven Academy, I’m all good with the serum. I’ll keep my head down, be a good boy, and complete this year-long punishment courtesy of Ry. And then I’ll be on my merry way again.”
“You could also try enjoying yourself. In ways that don’t involve you playing dark god of wrath and vengeance.”
I folded my arms across my chest and regarded him curiously. “What do you have in mind?”
He reached into the pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a shimmering black shard about three inches in length.
“What’s that?”
“A token.”
“Token?”
“For The Fade. It’s a one-night only created Rifted Cradle functioning as a supernatural party realm that takes place at Wraeven Academy before classes begin.
Think supernatural rave meets masquerade and magical chaos and debauchery.
It’s conjured by upperclassmen wielding high-level illusion.
It’s invite-only and requires one of these tokens to gain entry.
They’re distributed in secret, but I managed to obtain one from a fourth-year Shadowmancer.
You’d be surprised how many students are entranced by the idea of you attending their academy.
Your reputation most definitely precedes you.
He gave this thing up easily and I didn’t even need to use my persuasive skills. ”
“You’ve attended?”
Even though he’d studied at a different academy—Maven Academy—it would be just like him to find a way to access another academy’s clandestine night of debauchery.
“No. I asked around, asked the right people, trying to find some outlets for you, and this was one that I discovered.”
He’d done that for me? Gone to all that trouble?
I wasn’t the best at entertaining emotions—or processing them.
If I ventured down that road it could risk destabilizing the heavy compartmentalization I had in place that was holding back the onslaught of two fucking atrocities—one that had happened to me and another that I’d unwittingly caused thanks to Corvin.
Motherfucker. I blinked and managed, “I appreciate that, Kai.”
My delivery was stilted and… not the best.
But I saw him register what it really meant from me, and he smiled. “Of course.”
He handed the token over and I pocketed it in my hooded coat.
“Try to see this as an opportunity, not just a punishment. Hell knows you need some fun with everything else hanging so heavily over you.”
“I’ll consider it,” I offered.
“Good.” He looked at my suitcases. “Do you need an assist with the teleportation?”
“No. I’ve got it. Still strong.” That was half the truth, because my power had begun to misfire and short out once in a while.
But it was just once in a while.
I was still the Almighty Necromancer.
I was still me.
“All right, then I’ll see you up at Arcanum Conclave in a few days then.”
“That you will.” I reached out and laid my hand on his shoulder. “Give Ariana, Nyx, and Vorzyr my best.”
“You’ve got it.”
He laid his hand on mine over his shoulder for a moment.
And then he teleported out.
With a flick of my magic, I shut and locked the door that he’d blown open.
Then I sealed up the house as well.
With a centering breath to steel myself, I conjured a teleportation spell, then headed out for Wraeven Academy.
Here we fucking go.