Amethyst and Iron (Wraeven Academy #2)

Chapter 1

~Sylas~

Three Years Ago

Hero.

Savior.

Liberator.

That was what they’d taken to calling me.

To the work I did in the shadows.

In truth, I was no hero.

I couldn’t afford to be.

The world we lived in required much more than that.

Somebody who could operate in the gray, and often, in total fucking blackness.

I was condemnation, punishment, and brutal justice all wrapped up into one highly effective vigilante package.

A dark god of wrath and vengeance.

My reputation had spread.

Beyond the scope of just being revered or feared for being a rare breed.

A necromancer who existed out in the open.

And one incredibly learned who possessed near indomitable power.

They came to me now.

So many requiring my special services.

But as of this very moment, I was off the proverbial clock, taking a much-needed pleasure break.

“Umph…” Nathanial, the Light Fae I’d met on the dance floor earlier, spluttered around a mouthful of my cock as I twisted three fingers deep inside his ass. His magic sparked, a sunflower-yellow spreading over my thigh and sending a sharp thrill through me.

It sent me deeper into a pleasure haze and the delectably fierce wolf, Ana, who’d been grinding against us both earlier, shrieked as I switched my sweet torment of her cunt to wild and feral.

She let out a wolf howl and slammed her cunt back against me as she gyrated on the golden chaise on her hands and knees.

Normally, it wouldn’t be possible for magic to spark at all.

Not in this establishment, because of the Inhibitor that was usually in effect to prevent magic usage. But twice a month, it had a free-for-all night where the Inhibitor was dropped.

And that was the only time that I’d ever come here.

I didn’t like being without my magic, without feeling it, or suffering from it being muted.

As a necromancer, my magic technically operated on a different frequency, so the Inhibitor couldn’t impact me completely, but it did have me feeling a strain and an awful weight upon me when it was active. Absolutely not for me in the least.

So tonight, while it was one of those exceptions, I was here to enjoy all that I could from Polaris, the infamous supernatural club that allowed its patrons to explore their deepest desires in a safe and open-minded space.

Just like I was relishing doing now.

Well, sort of.

I wasn’t exactly tapping into my darkest—or dirtiest—predilections. I couldn’t allow that without trust being built first. It wasn’t something suitable for a one-night stand like that which I was engaging in now.

But I was definitely blowing off steam.

And if Nathanial gnawed at my crown one more time as he took my cock like a very good boy as I slammed brutally down his throat, I was going to blow in a whole other way.

Ana’s thighs shook, right on the verge of coming, her cries melding with the bass-heavy music coming from just beyond the velvet curtain out on the main floor.

I sucked her clit into my mouth and she clawed at the chaise, shredding it as she came. An easy magical fix from the staff when they cleaned the room up before the next patrons slinked inside.

She tried to buck away from the oversensitivity, but I held her to me as I took her higher and higher until she collapsed on her front, her legs giving out.

I chuckled as I eased back and watched her twitching and gasping, gloriously satisfied.

I angled my fingers deep within Nathanial just as he scraped his teeth over my crown, the two of us basically shooting off at the same time, him coming on the fabric, and me filling his eager mouth until he choked with it.

As the two of them collapsed onto the chaise, I pushed off it, cleaning myself with a burst of my magic, then snatching my pants up off the floor and pulling them on.

I took in the space. All glittering maroon and gold walls, sleek sophistication but with a relaxed edge.

There was a circular bed over in the corner, plush crimson with embroidered cushions, a bathroom over on the other side.

The chaise we’d just been on—after also fucking around on the bed beforehand for a couple of rounds.

And then there were the white marble cabinets containing a whole lot of fun tools like whips, chains, gags, dildos, vibrators, that sort of thing.

“Where are you going?” Nathanial asked as he played with Ana’s purple spiky hair. His long, golden hair was fucking wild from me fisting it as he’d worked my cock like a deep throating champ.

“Thank you for a good time. Enjoy the rest of your night,” I told them both.

With a flick of my magic, I finished dressing, putting on my black shirt, buttoned halfway, along with my hooded leather trench coat.

And then I swept out of there, pushing the velvet curtain aside, and heading back into the heart of things, making a beeline for the bar.

Golden chandeliers hung from the ceilings, along with cages housing erotic dancers in shimmering outfits performing a blend of sensual moves and impressive acrobatics.

Balconies draped in velvet wrapped around the second level which contained viewing boxes.

Beings chilled in plush booths playing voyeurs to the grinding and sexual activity taking place on the dance floor below while they sipped from their drinks.

The dance floor was packed as it had been all night, a slow bump and grind happening now as I made my way along the edge of it to the long marble-topped bar in the distance.

The tables, chairs, and booths beyond were a deep violent and crimson, tufted and dripping with luxury.

I found a spare stool right at the far end of the bar and settled myself as one of the suited bartenders took my order.

Not seconds later and my glass of enchanted Scotch that gave an extra kick to supernatural beings was slid across the top toward me.

I caught it in my hand and gave the vampire a chin lift, before he went to serve many more patrons gathered around. Thank goodness for vampiric stamina—and speed.

My drink went down warm and welcome, the perfect chaser to some fucking.

I was just a few sips deep when I felt a shift in the air.

“Enjoying your night, necromancer?”

A shadow fell over me in the very next moment, and I turned my head to see an unknown figure eyeing me with an intensity that I didn’t care for.

He wanted something from me.

And not the only thing I’d come here to give.

Duty calls, motherfucker.

He just continued staring at me, albeit giving me time to do the same and take in his ill-fitting beige suit—the collar spread over the lapels, the whole thing clearly out of the seventies.

Yet he was also wearing a top-of-the-line, very modern Rolex.

A contradiction indeed. As he flipped his long black hair, I read his magical signature. Sorcerer.

“State your name and your intent, or leave my vicinity.”

“Don’t take kindly to loiterers, huh?”

“I don’t take kindly to unknowns in my space. Not to mention, it’s my night off.”

“Believe me, you’re going to want to raincheck that leisure and debauchery.”

“Am I now?”

He moved up close and, in that moment I felt something more than just his magical species. With all the magic and wealth of supernatural beings crowded into the club, I hadn’t noticed it before.

Something twisted.

Depraved.

Black magic.

I snagged his arm, searching deeper.

Not his… he’d just been touched by it through unwanted proximity.

“You’re picking up on it, yes?”

I scented him through my necromantic abilities.

And all I could smell and taste was ashes.

The mark of death.

A great deal of it.

“What’s happened?”

“It’s… they… they came. I managed to get out, but they’re not done. They’re going to take them all.”

“Where?”

“I’m Reese. I belong to the Glasswake Settlement.”

It was a small, but growing community of mixed factions and different supernatural beings living in harmony. One of many that had been developing and spreading over the last decade or so.

“They’re raising the—”

“Quiet.” I gestured around. “Not here.”

I already knew what he meant.

These enemies, attackers… they were raising the dead.

And that was something only a necromancer could handle.

At least without horrific repercussions.

I pushed off my stool. “Outside. Give me the specifics.”

I didn’t know him for shit.

As if I’d go in off his word, and completely fucking blind.

But I also couldn’t ignore it.

Not something of this magnitude.

Not something that required my specific power and abilities.

Hell, it was the foundational reason that I’d immersed myself in this line of work.

Time had been of the essence, but I’d managed to get as many pertinent details as possible from Reese. It just bothered me that I hadn’t been able to run a check on him personally.

I’d run a trace using necromantic spellwork and determined that the dead were most definitely being raised at Glasswake Settlement.

By black magic users.

I’d sent him away to seek safety while I dealt with it. I couldn’t have him getting in the way. I couldn’t have anyone.

And now here I was, having just teleported to the edge of the settlement.

A shudder rolled through me as I felt and tasted that awful acrid shit of black magic usage, much more potently than I had before on Reese. He’d just been touched by it, sort of like a second-hand connection to it.

But this… it was fucking everywhere.

And it didn’t just make me recoil from the despicable and violating nature of that sort of dangerous magic alone.

I was tied to it personally, familiar with the taste and feel of it through my father.

That old bastard was long dead now.

Morien Morgrave. He’d thought himself the Almighty Necromancer, too.

The difference was that I lived up to that title and I’d proven it over and over.

I’d begun my studies as a young boy and I’d been obsessive about it as well.

But he’d taken another path entirely—shortcuts by delving into black magic.

It had cost him his family, his reputation, and his very life.