Chapter 5
~Lazriel~
The necromancer was sucking up all the attention in the room again.
Just like he’d been doing every fucking where he went for the last couple of days on campus.
Students were fawning over him, some tripping over themselves to be near him or to engage him in conversation, others flirting with him like he was a dark god among men.
The fuck he was.
There were others who were wary of him—I’d felt their fear—but even then their response was pitiful deference, stepping out of his way.
It was pathetic.
He shouldn’t even be here. He was already learned and way beyond the scope of every other student here.
I’d found out he was here as some sort of punishment. The Head of the Guardian Movement had actually forced him into an academy setting because of some vigilante bullshit the guy had been doing.
Word had spread amongst some of the students already and that made him even more revered, mysterious, and dangerous in their eyes.
Cocksucker.
As I finished piling my plate high at one of the food stations of the Dining Hall—rare prime rib with sausage links, pepper-crusted stake bites, arugula because I liked the bitterness, and then dark chocolate pieces off to the side—I watched him sitting there and flippantly entertaining all the talk and attention thrown his way.
I caught sight of what he was having for dinner.
He was eating oatmeal.
Oatmeal? At dinnertime? How bland was that? Especially for such an apparent charismatic and magnetic celebrity among us like him.
I frowned as I saw him pull something out of the pocket of his hooded coat.
Huh.
He unwrapped whatever it was from a couple of napkins secured around it, as he answered yet another question from those down the long mahogany table, and then I took in several pieces of smoked jerky. Didn’t see that coming.
As he took a bite, I watched that cunt, Kelsana, arrive and sit down opposite him, shoving an unsuspecting wolf girl aside, then start flirting away.
My gaze darted to her boyfriend walking in and zeroing in on what was happening, and the arrogant fuck didn’t look pleased at all.
Rennick Darrow.
The guy’s style was really out-there. And me noticing that after living amongst the types of students here at Wraeven Academy for the last three years was really saying something.
He was draped in black and gold, a suit of midnight-black fabric saturated with swirling gold embroidery, sharp lapels basically glowing, and with hundreds of gold studs that even caught the light with the somber candlelight barely illuminating the Dining Hall space.
The whole thing clashed with his swirl of rainbow-hued curls.
He had rings on every finger, opulence and luxury emphasized furthermore than the suit itself was already doing.
And through it all, there was an undeniable air of menace about him. And a clear aura of him thinking he was above everybody.
His woman carried the same air about her.
His woman who’d upset Velra.
Fucking cunt was right.
He glared for a while, then his eyes flashed as Kelsana laid her hand on Sylas’ arm, stroking the fabric of his coat.
He pulled away, but Rennick didn’t seem to register that aspect, and I saw him flick some of his yellow power at Sylas.
I started as Sylas didn’t even look up, but raised his hand, his palm glowing with his deep-red power and disintegrating Rennick’s magic in mid-air before it even made contact with him.
Damn.
Rennick’s eyes shot wide and he scrambled, pushing through some students coming into the Dining Hall, and rushing out.
Sylas said something to Kelsana that I didn’t care to even employ my vampiric or wolf hearing to listen in on. Like I wanted to be hearing their flirting. No fucking thanks.
Whatever he said had her reluctantly pushing from her seat and leaving him alone, although she didn’t look pissed, and just accepted it.
So he’d dismissed her, but somehow there was no fallout? She accepted it?
How was he doing this?
It was beyond being smooth.
It was another fucking level.
Kelsana headed down the gangway between the long banquet tables as I made my way through as well.
As she passed by me, I growled, “Stay away from Velra. Keep that poisonous mouth of yours locked down too. Or you won’t like what happens next.”
Her eyes shot wide and she tried to recover herself, moving to speak.
I flashed my eyes—both the wolf and the vampire at once coming through. “You know who I am?”
“Uh… yes. The Halfblood Hound.”
“That’s right. So take my words to heart. You’re being watched. One wrong move and you’ll also be marked.”
As she shuddered and struggled with that, I brushed past her and continued on my way, searching for my usual spot at the far end of a table right by the door. I liked to always be near an exit.
As usual, my seat was empty, even the one beside it and opposite it free and clear.
People here knew I needed my space.
And they were more than happy to ensure I got what I needed.
I sat down and started digging into my meal right away—I was famished. I’d skipped breakfast to go for a run to get some pent-up shit out of my system.
I was just a few bites into my ribs when a shadow fell over me.
I looked out to see none other than the necromancer himself sitting down right next to me—in my space.
“A word of advice?” he spoke in that smooth, deep voice that rolled over me.
“What’s that?” I snapped.
“If you’re going to threaten someone, reserve it for dark corners of the campus, out of the way—and earshot—of everybody else. Otherwise you risk implicating yourself.”
I glared out at him. “Don’t worry yourself about my business.”
As if I hadn’t even spoken, he went on. “Another piece of advice? Threats shouldn’t be your first move. There is much that can be done to guide people’s behavior to your liking without the need for such excessive aggression.”
“What do you even know about it? I thought you were with Velra on what that vicious thing did to her. Yet, there you were talking with the enemy.”
“There are better ways to handle things than outright hostility and heavy-handedness.”
“Flirting your way through it?”
“Aww, how precious. You considered that flirting. Believe me, you’d know if I was flirting.” He shifted, his thigh brushing against mine, making me jolt. “I’m not subtle about it, wolfie.”
I moved to the side so he was no longer up against me like that.
“Are we done here?” I demanded, finding it difficult to maintain aggressive eye contact.
That… thigh thing had thrown me off or something.
I didn’t falter. And I didn’t fucking defer to anyone.
Breaking eye contact was not an option. Others looked away from me.
Before I could dig into my food again, not only didn’t he get up and leave, but he brushed his fingers over mine, my hand that wasn’t holding one of my steaks, currently clutching the table in a death grip.
His fingers rubbed over my thick titanium ring with the fierce skull on the face that encircled my middle finger, and the markings etched into it.
Graverun. Ten Rounds.
Graverun was the underground fight ring hidden beneath Wraeven where students like me worked out our frustrations or just let loose, and kicked ass and took names. To be granted the honor of receiving a ring, you had to win ten fights in a row.
“This is quite the accomplishment. Especially when you’re even up against magic-wielders.”
I went to pull my hand away but he held fast.
“The renowned Halfblood Hound. King of Graverun.”
“That’s me,” I ground out. “Something you’d do well to pay attention to.”
“Why? Are you threatened by me, Lazriel?”
Fuck. My name spilled from his lips like a sensual promise.
What was happening?
I violently jerked my hand free. “If you came here to say something, fucking say it, or leave me in peace to eat my meal and go back to your damned oatmeal.”
He showed no sign of pain, even though I could see the chafe on his skin from the way I’d pulled away so brutally.
He didn’t even flinch or fucking blink.
He just smiled.
“Tell me about the girl.”
“What?”
“Your Wraithqueen.”
How did he know about that?
“You mean, your Dark Beauty?” I bit back, a growl escaping me.
“Is she not that? Beyond merely her appearance, she is beauty within also, yes?”
Of course she was.
“What do you want with her?”
“I’m merely curious, so you may feel free to hold off on the territorial threats.”
“Curious about what?”
“Does she have control of her power?”
“Ask her yourself.”
“She’s been acclimating in her room for the last couple of days so that hasn’t been possible.”
Yeah, she had been.
Given what I knew about her trauma after Warlow had explained it to me when he’d had that big talk with me about her, I’d expected her to do that when she arrived here. Fortunately, it didn’t stand out, as she wasn’t the only one who did that.
This first week before classes started up was known unofficially as Acclimation Week where students were encouraged to show up early to either settle back in if they were returning like me, or to get the lay of the land and get accustomed to the new space if they were brand-new like Velra.
I’d been texting a little back and forth with her, trying not to make it too much, just checking in to make sure she was doing all right.
And she was. She just needed to ease into it all in her own way.
Sylas stared at me, expecting an answer.
On the one hand, I wanted to tell him to ask Velra directly. It wasn’t my business to comment on something like that on her behalf.
But, on the other hand, with his whole note and Dark Beauty thing I didn’t want him getting up in her space.
For her. Obviously.
“What you saw in the Grand Atrium the other day wasn’t the norm for her.”
“But it’s happened before?”
“Sure. There are a lot of students here who it happens to. They get upset or unsettled and their power leaks out, they lose control briefly.”
“That loss of control isn’t always tied to volatile emotions. Another reason for that occurring is weak control of abilities, especially magic that possesses great power like hers most definitely does.” He frowned in thought. “But you’re telling me that emotional upset is the case for her?”
“Yes,” I ground out. “Why? What’s your angle here? Why are you fixated on her?”
“I believe you’re the one who is deeply fixated on the stunning Wraithqueen.”
He moved to get up, but I snagged his arm in a brutal grip and held him there with the full force of my strength. “Tell me, you fucking cocksucker.”
His eyes darkened.
Not dangerously, per se.
But in some other off-putting way I didn’t want to understand.
“Mmm… cocksucker. I am indeed.” He leaned in close, taking advantage of my hold on him that basically facilitated it.
His voice was an erotic purr at my ear. “And I’m exceptionally talented at it.
You’d scream, beg, and unravel for me. You’d lose yourself as you come like a storm down my throat and then you’d beg me to fuck you like a beast.” A shudder rolled through me as his lips briefly brushed over my throat.
“Consider this an open invitation. Fuck knows you need to take the edge off.” He eased back, his far too perceptive gaze burning into mine and seeing things I wasn’t ready to be seen. “Isn’t that right, babe?”
Heat infused me.
Burning fucking heat.
Flames.
Another shudder rolled through me, both welcome and unwelcome this time.
The longer he remained there holding my gaze, the more I felt my grip weaken as I stared back unsure. Caught between what should be and what I wanted it to be.
No.
He was just fucking with me.
Trying to undermine me.
Fighting in an underhanded and fucked-up manipulative way to become top dog here.
On turf that had been mine for years, that I’d worked to make mine.
And now he wanted something from Velra too.
Hot words spilled from his lips again and sent a shockwave of unexpected desire through me as he whispered, “The time for repression is past. You’re away from those who would cage you and your desires now. You’re free. Start acting like it. I’m around for whenever you’re ready to finally do that.”
I didn’t get the chance to utter a response—I wasn’t even sure I could—as he released himself from my grip with a spark of his magic, then sauntered out of the Dining Hall, not even bothering to return to his oatmeal and jerky.
He winked at me over his shoulder, then disappeared deeper into the building.
What. The. Fuck?