Chapter 37 Roth #2
“Her pretty pink cunt would be so swollen after he ran her through.” He shudders, and a fresh bead of precum trails from his cockhead to pool on the floor.
“Luther would love it, though,” I add casually, reveling in Thane’s pained expression from holding back his orgasm.
“You remember how much he likes hearing them beg for mercy?” He closes his eyes and nods, jaw clenched.
“Maybe then I’ll let you slide your desperate cock into her dripping pussy, keeping our cum where it belongs, hm? ”
He cries out when my taunting proves too much as his cock throbs, spilling cum between his legs, and I laugh cruelly. “Was that a good ruin?”
He shakes his head without opening his eyes, panting from the painful pleasure of a denied orgasm.
“Good. Get on the bed.”
“Where were you?” I ask Killian quietly as we step into the clearing leading to the Vena Strata.
The indiscriminate rocky face of the caverns don’t look like they contain unknown obstacles meant to test our ability to wield, just as the written exams yesterday tested our knowledge.
For most, it’s nerve-wracking. For others like us who descend from exceptionally powerful bloodlines—the Legacies, the Hektreia sisters.
Even the dragon prince, as loathe as I am to admit—it’s merely an annoyance.
Luther, Thane, Killian and I surpassed this level of mastery long ago.
It’s a secret we’ve killed for to keep our families from discovering how far our abilities have developed.
Our lives would be forfeit in the face of their ambition and greed.
“Hunting.” He answers without further explanation.
I turn to look at Luther from where he walks behind me next to Thane and he merely shrugs.
The crowd of students part as I lead us to the platform that’s been set up for the Headmaster, members of the various Councils, and high-ranking faculty.
I nod to my father, who looks down on me from his position next to Headmaster Church, with Preston, Soren, and Marcus to his right.
On Church’s left, Professor Brandt sits next to the rest of the Council—Vivica, Amadeus, Corvus, and Armand.
Vivica waves to someone in the crowd and I follow her gaze to where her daughters stand in a group.
Nyx and her friend from last night, as well as the necromancer and the girl he left with, stand off to the side.
A flash of light draws my attention to the back of the crowd, where Mondragon leans against a wall, deceptively relaxed save for the death glare he directs toward them.
Interesting.
Headmaster Church stands, taps the microphone, and waits for the crowd to quiet.
“Good morning, students, esteemed faculty, and Council members.” He gestures behind him.
“Welcome. Today, our students will complete the Crypteia to demonstrate not only their academic excellence, but also their ability to wield that knowledge, both of which are required to advance to the next level of mastery.
Before we can congratulate our students on yet another year of study at Dreadhurst, or wish our graduating class luck in their future endeavors, we must first support them in their pursuit of one last achievement: traversing the Vena Strata and completing the Crypteia.
“For those of you joining us for the first time, every year, our world-renowned faculty create a course designed to challenge our student’s ability to combine their knowledge and skill into action.
We will begin with the freshman class and proceed by grade level until every student has completed the course, which has been modified to meet the requirements of each respective level of mastery with increasing difficulty.
The order in which the first students will begin the course has been randomly assigned, and all others will follow in waves. ”
Hushed whispers ripple among the students as the Headmaster instructs all freshmen to make their way to the arched entrance of the course where professors and faculty herd them into an orderly fashion. Only, Nyx isn’t among them.
“Why isn’t she with the freshmen?” Thane asks, coming to the same realization.
“Carrick had me evaluate her as a sophomore.” Luther murmurs.
Thane frowns. “I thought she was just taking advanced classes, you mean she actually skipped an entire grade level? After one semester?”
Luther shrugs.
“That’s not enough time.” Killian shakes his head. “Her epiphaneia was like, two months ago.” Luther stiffens slightly at the mention of his near death experience, but doesn’t say anything.
I hum. “We’ll see.”
“She’s been practicing with Brandt for the last few weeks,” Luther volunteers, and I quirk my eyebrow.
“When?” Killian asks.
“At night. After classes.”
“Is that so?” I ask quietly. I knew he’d been flying at night to rebuild his stamina, but hadn’t realized he’s been spying on her as well. He clenches his jaw and nods.
When I look for her again, she’s turned her back on where we stand along the perimeter of the course.
I’m sure she feels our eyes on her, but the brat refuses to look.
As the hour passes and the line of remaining freshmen dwindle, I watch as she begins to fidget more—shifting her weight from side to side.
Twisting her hair. Her friends try to comfort her, I can tell.
Especially the necromancer. Milo. It doesn’t work.
When a professor at the entrance announces the order in which we’ll enter the course, I’m pleased to discover I’ll be going after her.
She is decidedly not.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” she mutters when I walk behind her.
“Hello, pretty bird.” I lean over, whispering in her ear. “Or do you prefer ‘pretty pussycat’?”
“Fucking neither,” she seethes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Can you please just, fuck off?”
“Oh pretty bird, I’m sure you have nothing to worry about after all that extra practice with Brandt.”
She narrows her eyes and scowls. “How the fuck do you know that?”
I tsk. “Don’t you remember? There’s very little that can stop me from getting what I want. Including your whereabouts.”
Her jaw drops. “Have you been following me?”
I smirk, a predator playing with its pretty, pretty prey. “How could I resist when you sing so sweetly, pretty bird?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” She grimaces, closing her eyes, startling when I lean in close with a feral grin.
“So many, many things.” She shivers when my demon bleeds into my voice, rolling over her skin. Before she can respond, the professor announces she’s on deck for entering the course.
Nyx pales and runs her fingers through her dark hair, looking up at me. “You’ve done one of these before, right?”
Her sincere question takes me by surprise. “Yes.”
“You got any advice for me?”
“Would you trust it?”
She scoffs quietly. “Probably not.”
“Then don’t ask.”
“Wow. Okay—”
“I wasn’t finished.
“Fine. Sorry.”
“Then don’t ask for help from someone you wouldn’t trust with your life. That’s my advice.”
She swallows thickly and turns as the professor calls her forward. With a deep breath, she fortifies herself before looking back at me one last time.
Not with defiance, like at Wyckd.
Not in contempt, like last night.
She’s looking at me like I’m the only one who can save her.
“Fly away, pretty bird, before I catch you.”
I almost miss the curl of her lip before she steps onto the course.