Chapter 3
~Velra~
Wraeven Academy.
There it was in all its glory.
Although it was only two decades old, the architecture gave off a dark, gothic, timeless vibe, which spoke to its purpose and those who it invited within its walls.
Dark Fae. Wraiths. Revenants. Necromancers. Shadowmancers. Vampires. Sorcerers who traded on the dark side. Werewolves. Dragons. Hybrids of those species. Those darker supernatural beings who were volatile and possessed misunderstood magic and abilities. It was like an academy for dangerous gifts.
The building was of modern construction using classical design as an intentional aesthetic. Every stone, every corridor, every tower was deliberately constructed to echo something older.
It most definitely had a moody, mysterious vibe to it.
Surrounded by glorious mountains, the deep-red brick and black stone facade flickered with the power of its students and faculty from within. It was both thrilling and kind of creepy—and honestly, that was kind of my thing.
It was exactly what I’d thought when I’d come in for my day-long tour not long ago.
Gothic towers rose toward the sky, framed by black spires. Mist curled through the mountain pass and rose up the steep cliffs to envelope the school’s lower turrets. Wind lashed the upper balconies, sounding like eerie whispers. Hundreds of tall, arched windows glowed amber.
The front steps led to a grand archway marked in vibrant gold: WRAEVEN ACADEMY.
I adjusted my duffel bag on my shoulder that contained all my jewelry-making supplies, and then I sucked in a breath and dragged my suitcase behind me as I headed for the entrance.
I knew from the instructions I’d memorized several times over and the tour that I’d had where I’d basically analyzed the entire space—a survival mode thing that I did with any new place that I ventured into—that I needed to make my way toward the Grand Atrium.
I followed the path that I’d catalogued, striding down a couple of corridors, which were absolutely gorgeous.
The floors were a soothing dark slate, the walls covered with deep crimson paneling and glowing in low light from the crystal orbs above that were hanging in place with iron vines, enchanted torches flickering with blue-black flames.
Tapestries of mythic dark beings hung on the walls.
Voices reached me, a whole lot of noise increasing in volume with every step I took then, clearly coming from the Grand Atrium, as that was the space that led up to all the dormitories.
At this academy, students were sorted into five Circles: Obscura, Nocturna, Umbralis, Sanguis, or Bestia. And each dorm was a living system tailored to the powers and abilities of those within each Circle.
Obscura Circle consisted of beings with shadow and illusion magic like Dark Fae, Shadowmancers and Wraiths—perfect for me.
Nocturna Circle housed those beings who traded in death magic like Necromancers and Revenants.
Bestia Circle was for shifters like Werewolves, Wolf-dominant hybrids, Draconics.
Sanguis Circle was for bloodline magic like vampires and vampire-hybrids.
And Umbralis Circle was for mixed ancestry and magic that defied one field.
I reached the Grand Atrium, which was a vaulted central chamber on the ground floor that housed a staircase lit by magical lanterns for each Circle. They spiraled upward and downward, depending on Circle placement.
Students shared classes in the same Academy hallways but lived and slept in these specific environments tailored to their magical needs.
I eyed the left stone stairway that curved upward to the upper west wing that belonged to students of Obscura Circle like me.
There was no clear throughway, the area blocked by forty-odd students milling about, some headed up there creating a backlog as they chatted with one another, or stared at their Wraeven Academy Guidebook as they moved along, others hanging around at the bottom of the staircases and causing more blockages.
I couldn’t see any identifiable Faculty members around.
A shudder rolled through me, tension building the longer I shared space with so many people.
There was a few feet separating me from becoming an actual part of it and I wanted to focus on that distance, but I had to go right through the heart of it.
I couldn’t teleport to my assigned dorm room because passage needed to be activated first by a key I had in the back pocket of my leather pants.
And I couldn’t use my shadow magic without causing a stir.
Son of a bitch.
I sucked in a breath, trying to ignore the fact that my hands were trembling and my breathing was now uneven.
Too many people.
No easy way out.
Trapped.
Trapped.
Trapped.
I blinked and sucked in a harsh breath, just barely managing to pull myself back from the edge.
Do it. Just do it.
I went to start forward, intending to weave through the crowds with my suitcase and bulky bag along for the ride, and somehow focus on the destination and not the journey, when a voice pulled me up short.
“Wow, she’s really something.”
Okay, voices plural.
“The Wraith with Dark Fae blood running in her veins.”
“Poor thing was hunted for years worse than most.”
Their comments swirled around me and I tried not to take them personally, understanding that people were just curious.
But then another sounded from a student I registered as Dark Fae with vibrant green hair flowing down over her black cloak, a shimmering gold romper on display.
“Her own brother tried to murder her. And it’s her fault the Guardian Compound was attacked. Should’ve stayed off the radar. How stupid can you be, right?”
Gasps at her viciousness slammed up against cruel laughter.
And then the whole space was swirling with sound I could no longer discern as individual voices or words.
They all became a blur.
I felt so many people looking my way.
A surge of power sparked within me and, the next thing I knew, frost was spreading along the floor, traveling up the walls.
It couldn’t stop it.
I couldn’t—
“Mighty courageous is what I would call it,” a deep, rumbling voice cut through it all.
The atmosphere shifted.
Excitement.
A flurry.
The crowd moved.
I caught sight of somebody new who had entered the space at some point during my freakout.
The hooded coat.
That distinctive brown spiky hair with the maroon tips.
That tall and toned imposing form.
Sylas Morgrave.
The necromancer.
His eyes were on me and I saw recognition there.
We’d encountered one another very briefly and just at a distance during the Severance in Meforian Forest. I’d just arrived back there after saving Cassius, while Sylas had taken out Corvin Morvain and saved Kai in the process who’d been tapped out magically due to battling True Celestials for ages beforehand.
Sylas stepped toward me.
It looked like he was going to help me somehow.
Concern bled from him and he completely ignored all the fans encircling him.
And then his eyes flamed with his magic.
They darted to my hands in the next beat and I saw his own spark with his power, before he was able to quickly pull it back.
He looked confused as hell.
Was I… was I affecting him? His own magic?
What the—
I followed his gaze to see that my frost wasn’t just leaking out now, so was my shadow magic and even sparks of my purple power from my Dark Fae side.
I couldn’t… I couldn’t hold it.
That girl who’d said those mean-spirited things blocked my view of Sylas, stepping up with a definitive strut and flirting, it looked like.
I staggered back, intending to turn away, but the way I’d come was now blocked by more students who’d filtered in.
Trapped!
I really was trapped right now.
I couldn’t… I couldn’t breathe.
I saw magic-wielders in the vicinity call their power as mine went wild.
Vampires and werewolves took on rigid, fighting stances.
No. No. No.
I didn’t want to hurt anyone.
I didn’t want to become a problem.
I’d just got here. I could be kicked out or—
Hands snagged my waist, and then I was blurred out of the space, everything whizzing by around me.
I squeezed my eyes shut against the unsettling sensation.
Then I felt wind whipping around me, smelled fresh air.
The movement stopped and my combat boots touched the ground.
I opened my eyes, finding myself in some sort of alcove on campus.
I jolted as I took in who’d just sped me away from that nightmare come to life.
“Lazriel,” I choked.
“Long time, Wraithqueen.”