by K.N. Lee
It was fussy, indignant, but obeyed, fading back from whence it came.
I fell onto my back, chest heaving, wiping sweat from my face.
Rhys stood over me, clapping.
"Good job," he said, nodding, impressed.
"Yes, well done," one voice said.
"A bit showy...but it'll do."
I rolled my eyes.
Damned judgmental ancestors.
18
We returned to my dorm after several hours, sweaty and stunned by my show of power. I followed him to the corridor, and he stopped before my dorm room.
I pushed open the door and stepped inside.
I turned to him, sighing. “Thank you,” I said, touching his arm.
He tensed, and his eyes rose to mine.
“For?”
Shrugging, I withdrew my hand and placed them on my hips. “For everything. Saving my family, bringing me into this world of truth, and making sure I don’t lose my mind.”
I laughed and he joined in, turning to me. He took a step forward, and my breath caught in my throat.
Did his eyes just flicker with light? I shouldn’t be so surprised. He was an enigma—one I still hadn’t fully explored.
Backing away, I looked up at him, heart thumping in my chest as he stood so closely that I could smell his intoxicating scent.
“What is it?” I asked, as his hands ran up my bare arms.
Brows furrowed, he held one arm out, examining it.
“Jeez,” I said, eyes widening with surprise. “What the hell is that?”
As I stared down at my arms.
They were glowing again.
“Is this normal?” I asked.
He tilted his head, chuckling. “I wish I knew. It’s not hurting you, is it?”
I shook my head, and ran my hand along the orange flames. It was cool to the touch, and felt quite nice, rejuvenating. Still, as he stood so close to me, my throat tightened and heat rose from my thighs.
Back pressed to the door, our bodies touched.
The glow intensified, nearly engulfing me.
I feared I would burn him somehow, but, as he laced his fingers between mine, no such thing happened.
“I dare say your body approves of me,” he said.
Unable to speak, my eyes fluttered closed as he whispered into my ear.
“Have I awakened something else with you, dear sweet, Skylar?”
Gulping, I craned my neck, desperate to taste him. He granted my wish, claiming my mouth as his hands slid up the inside of my shirt, smoothing my back.
As I’d imagined, he was sweet, delicious. I had to have more. My lips parted, accepting his tongue as he held me close to the hardness of his body.
Everything screamed for more. My very soul yearned for our union. I let out a soft gasp as he squeezed my bottom and tenderly nibbled my lower lip.
In an absolute stupor, I wrapped my arms around his neck, ready to submit to my desire, when he abruptly stepped away.
I don’t know what happened, but his face had gone pale and he raked his hands through his hair.
With a slight bow of his head, he headed to the door.
“Sorry,” he said. “That was imprudent of me. That wasn’t supposed to happen.”
Then, he opened the door and slipped out into the corridor. “Good night.”
Hot, frustrated with unfulfilled desire, and confused, I stared at the door as he closed it behind him.
I flopped onto my bed, and fell backward, staring at the ceiling. My breaths took a while to slow back to normal, and I had to force images of what he looked like without all of those clothes on from my mind.
I couldn’t sleep, and didn’t even want to try. Instead, I left the dorms and headed toward the Ancient’s lair.
19
I didn’t know if I could find the clearing in the woods without Rhys’ guidance, or remember the words Rhys spoke to reveal the Ancient’s lair.
Even so, I intended to try.
I ventured across the courtyard for the woods.
The clouds overhead were gray. It wasn't snowing, but it might as well have been. I watched the steam from the cup of tea I had poured into a mug curl up through the opening in the lid. My breath mingled with it every time I exhaled. Wishing I'd thought to wear a hat or gloves, I wrapped both hands around the mug to suck the heat from it.
The soles of my shoes made almost no sound on the concrete sidewalk. The wind overnight had blown all the leaves into golden-brown drifts against the base of the palace. A few of those leaves spilled across the walk where it left the courtyard. I shuffled my feet through them, scattering them in front of me with each step.
An old memory surfaced. A good one of raking leaves with my father dad and diving into the crunchy, earthy-smelling pile. If only he and mother had kept their true origins a secret, like the other cowards inhabiting this planet. They might still be alive.
I took a sip of my tea, which was still quite warm. The sidewalk ended, and the hard-packed earth took over. A rock skittered out in front of me when I clipped it with the toe of my shoe. A few steps later and the dirt gave way to grass and weeds, overgrown and turning brown with the colder weather.
I stopped, studied the wall of trees. Most of the leaves had fallen and blown away; there were far fewer than had been there the night before.
I scanned left to right.
There.
The opening in the trees Rhys had led me through was just a few feet to the right. I headed that way and into the woods.
Almost immediately, the air turned noticeably warmer. The gloomy daylight had a hard time filtering through the tight canopy of trees. I hadn’t noticed it the night before, but the woods where I stood held their leaves. They were still green, for the most part, just starting to turn with season. The maples and oaks and sycamores shared space with pine and spruce. When viewed from the outside, there were no evergreens in the woods.
A sheerie landed on my cup. Another winked in and out and back in a few feet away. The simple beauty of it made her want nothing more than to stay there and let her troubles float away.
Enchanted, I could watch the sheeries dance and play, painting the air with pastel brushstrokes of light. A pale green sheerie fluttered in front of my nose, touched the tip, a whisper of sensation as soft as a mirage.
I started walking, trying to stick to the path, while the sheeries played all around me. More joined the first few, darting in and out of sight, winking blue or lavender.
Here and there was a flash of red or deeper purple. I found myself paying more attention to the antics of the sheeries than to where I walked. I didn’t know how long I’d been in the woods when I noticed there was no clear path anymore. There was only the winking light of the sheeries, the sweet scent I’d smelled last night, the chirping of frogs and insects.
The sheeries formed a ribbon of rainbow-colored light. I reached out a hand, and three of them, blue, green, purple landed on her knuckles. Half a dozen more played with my hair.
Skylar.
Stiffening, I thought I heard my name, but more sheeries darted around my face. They landed on my ears and eyelashes, distracting me.
Yet, I kept walking.
Fingers closed hard around my wrist, squeezed until the bones felt like they rubbed together under muscle and skin. Rhys jerked me backward with so much force we fell to the loamy, leaf-covered ground. I cried out from surprise as much as from the pain in my wrist.
Blinking, I stared up at the scudding clouds.
Beside me, Rhys rolled to his feet. He brushed dirt from his jeans, plucked leaf shards from his sweater. A grim expression on his face, he held out a hand to help me up.
As soon as I was on my feet again, he turned away, and ran his fingers through his hair. But, then he spun back to me, tawny eyes flashing with anger.
“What the fuck do you think you were doing, coming in here alone?”
I was wrong. It wasn’t anger I saw in his eyes; it was fear.
My heart beat faster. A little sick from the adrenaline rush that mixed with the coffee in my stomach, I focused on holding my breakfast down. “I wanted to speak to the Ancient. I couldn’t sleep.”
“Look!” He flung his arm out to point at something behind me. Reluctant to see, I turned, and my gaze followed where he gestured.
There was nothing there. The ground ended about three feet from where we stood.
Eyes wide, I approached the edge. Before I got there, Rhys had hold of my arm again, but this time his grip didn’t feel like it would break bones.
We stood on the edge of a cliff that rose at least a hundred feet from the rocky ground below. I’d had no idea anything like it existed near the academy.
“Wow.”
“Yeah, wow. If I hadn’t found you...” He pulled me back again but didn't let go of my arm. Or rather, he did, but only to take her hand in his, and I could tell he wasn't going to release that hand anytime soon. "That's what sheeries do, Skylar. They lead the unwary to their deaths."
“But, why?”
He ran his free hand through his hair again. He was still too serious, but the Rhys I knew had started to win free of the fear. “Who knows? All I know is they’re pretty to look at but deadly if you’re not careful.” He squeezed my hand as he looked down at me, and his voice dropped to a whisper so soft I wasn’t sure I heard him right. “All I know is I almost lost you.”
My heart raced, and all I wanted was to kiss him again.
He cared about me.
Truly.
He might even…love me.
A smile came to my lips. He cupped my face in one of his hands.
Pain.
I cried out. Rhys’s faced turned white with fear. Something had stabbed me in the back. The pain seared into my entire body, hot and intense. I couldn’t scream any longer. The pain took over every vein, filling me with fire.
Rhys looked past me. I don’t know what he saw, but he pulled me in close, and pressed his forehead to mine.
“Hold on, Skylar!”
20
All went silent.
In a burst of light, everything around us vaporized, and spun in a whirl of white.
Whatever had assaulted me was gone, and so were we.
I cried out in pain, and in a pop, we were back at the front entrance to the forest, by the field.
When we returned to the forest clearing, all sounds returned with us, and the most prominent was my scream.
It was as if time had stood still while we were away in the forest.
Rhys looked at his hand and swallowed. It was covered in blood.
My blood.
“It’s okay, Skylar. Just don’t sleep.” He lifted me over his shoulder, and ran toward the academy.
My eyes widened with terror, but I held onto him with what little strength I had left.
“Don’t drop me,” I cried.
“I won’t. I promise.”
“What happened?”
He pursed his lips, and exhaled.
“Lucia,” he said, and I was certain my ears weren’t working properly. “She stabbed you.”
Lucia? It couldn’t be true. She was sweet as can be. I gasped as another wave of pain took over.
And, also the perfect person to get close enough to kill me.
“I doubt she’s who she says she is.”
“It hurts,” I said.
“I’ve got you, Skylar,” he said raced toward the the main hall.
Rhys shouted at the startled students and teacher congregated in the front sitting room. “Get the headmistress, the healer, and the resurrectionist!”
Resurrectionist?
Was I dying?
“No, you are safe,” a voice said from within my head.
“But, danger lurks.”
“The witch’s power is strong.”
“But, yours is stronger.”
I succumbed to the darkness that called to me.
I prayed the resurrectionist would hurry.
Thank you for reading Academy of Lost Souls! I hope you enjoyed it. If so, please consider leaving a review where you purchased it. Academy of Darkness will release in November. See you then!
For now, check out Throne of Deceit, and Quest for Dragon’s Fire, available now.
A Look at Quest for Dragon’s Fire
The soft splatter of cool rain dripped onto Wren’s hood.
She sat in the tree, waiting, listening. It was just before sunset when the horns would blow and the villagers would be called back to town before curfew. Nightfall meant danger for anyone who dared to linger outside of the gates of The Vale.
It was up to Wren and the other Dragon Elite to keep them safe—to protect them from the beasts who prowled at night.
She’d taken this mission from the King of Saldoria—a king who balked at being sent the ‘little fairy’ instead of one of the elven males from the Elite.
Arrogant bastard.
She glanced at the darkening sky, and the gray clouds that rolled across at a leisurely pace. From the sweet smell of the air, she could tell that a storm was coming. She loved a good storm. Perhaps the weather would keep the creatures who haunted most children’s nightmares away.
When the loud horns began to blow, she settled in on her belly, hiding within the leaves of a tall tree. The black bark and dark, evergreen leaves were perfect for such a disguise. Her purple hair was hidden beneath her hood, and her olive skin helped her camouflage herself along with the branches and foliage.
She pressed her ear to the branch, listening to the wood nymphs humming. It was a hypnotizing melody that almost lulled her to sleep.
Peeking down at the villagers as they left the fields and lakes from a busy day gathering food and supplies, she spotted North. He walked behind his two younger brothers, ushering them on as they begged to stay out and play just a bit longer.
With a crooked smile on his face, and long chestnut hair falling into his eyes, he was one of her oldest friends from the Titan Academy for Mages.
She was coming of age to leave the Academy and pursue a life of her own. It was either that, or continue her studies to rise up the ranks of mages, and perhaps ascend to greater things.
She’d chosen her path, and the Dragon Elite was where her heart belonged.
The silence that followed the procession of the villagers away from the forest was unsettling. She tried to focus on the hum of the nymph-folk and the soft drip of rain. Before long, thunder began to vibrate across the sky and strike lightning with a loud crackle that perked her up. She pushed herself to her bottom and wrapped her toned arms around her slim frame. The wind picked up and her soaked cloak and tunic began to cling to her in the most uncomfortable fashion.
It was then that she noticed something out of the ordinary—something…odd.
Two pairs of glowing red eyes emerged in the looming darkness as the sun set. She held her breath, tensing her neck as she watched a two-headed basilisk creep through the forest in search for food. The snake-like heads sniffed and searched the thick underbrush of the forest floor and let out a shrill sound unlike anything Wren had ever heard.
Lips parted, she watched in awe as they seemed to communicate with one another in a series of shrieks and grunts that reminded her of a pig. Swallowing, she reminded herself of why she was there in the first place.
She carefully pulled an arrow from the quiver on her back, not blinking and barely breathing. As the storm raged on, she nocked the arrow and pulled the string back as far as it would go.
Rain fell into her eyes, clouding her vision. She blinked them away and clenched her jaw. Perhaps it was a bad day for a hunt, but she had no choice. She’d taken this mission, and would execute it.
She sucked in a long breath of the cool air, and said a mental prayer, asking her wisp guides for clarity.
Releasing the breath, she also let go of the arrow and watched it soar through the night and into the chest of the deformed basilisk.
The roar that re
sulted made her jump, almost falling from the tree. She held steady, shivering as the massive creature ran. Her arrow protruded from its body.
“Fiddlesticks,” she growled, and with a leap from the tree, she descended down to the forest floor, landing with barely more than a soft squish in the mud.
The basilisk ran, and she chased it, nocking arrows and shooting as fast as her skilled fingers could go.
The hide was tough, and as she ran behind the frantic creature, it took two more arrows into the back of the beast’s heads to send it crashing down to its death. The thud made the entire surrounding area vibrate, and sent dirt flying through the air.
Skidding to a stop, she breathed heavily, lifting her hood and exposing herself to the onslaught of rain. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she knelt and felt the beast for any signs of life. Closing her eyes, she thanked the Mother for her blessing. Then, she removed her dagger and cut out the beast’s heart.
As she did so, her body trembled at feeling the spirit leave the the beast. For a moment, she was overcome with sadness for the poor creature. Her hand glowed a faint orange, and she placed it onto the belly of the beast, and closed her eyes.
“On to the Mother,” she said. “May your journey be peaceful.”
It was the only way she could do this job—to come to terms with bringing death to any living creature.
She was a fairy, through and through, even if she only had scars where her wings had once been—even if she was one of the last of her kind.
A Look at Throne of Deceit
The sound of hooves thundering down the main road rang in Elise’s ears.
She jumped up from her spot on the ground. A summer breeze wafted through, sweeping ebony hair around her face as she peered downward.
Sure enough, it was an armored messenger, astride a horse, with a red banner in his hand.
Elise raced through the garden to the road at the outskirts of the grounds of Devynshire Castle.
Bright sunlight cascaded through the trees, highlighting every ebony wave as she bounded down the grassy, poppy-littered hill.
