Avalon Academy: Book One: a Paranormal Academy Romance

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Avalon Academy: Book One: a Paranormal Academy Romance Page 15

by Bailey Dark


  “I won’t go,” I spit.

  Gareth’s head falls back as he laughs. “You don’t have a choice, you dumb bitch. The council makes the rules.”

  “Not anymore,” Lance says as he bursts into the room. His arms fly out, sending Gareth to the floor and knocking Galahad out cold.

  He isn’t alone. Holly is right behind him. She’s incapacitated Galahad, not Lance. He kneels down next to me, cutting the binding loose from my arms.

  “Come here,” he says, pulling me to my feet and securing me in a hug. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine,” I reassure him. “I wasn’t hurt, but check on the Chancellor.”

  He was knocked out when Holly took down Galahad.

  “I’ve got him,” Holly calls. “He’ll be alright.”

  “I’ve been looking for you all afternoon,” Lance says. “I should’ve known you’d found yourself in some sort of trouble,” he grins, “I have so much to fill you in on, but right now isn’t the time,” I say.

  “The council doesn’t have their abilities,” I tell the room. “I think the Dowager Coven somehow took them.”

  I watch Holly for any signs that she might know about this, but it’s clear that she hasn’t known. Her eyes are wide.

  “That’s exactly what they did. They stripped the council’s powers and attached them to Excalibur,” Mallory explains. “They were doing an incantation and the spell was complete when the woman handed over Excalibur.”

  My head swings around the room searching for Tristan. “Where’s Tristan?”

  Everyone looks around, but he isn’t there. Where has he gone? With all the commotion in the room, I’ve been distracted. Has he slipped out to get help prior to Lance’s arrival?

  “Help me tie these two together,” Lance instructs Mallory and I.

  Knowing that needs to be done, I push my concern for Tristan aside. He can take care of himself and most likely, he’s on his way back here with more help. When we have Gareth and Galahad restrained, I look to Holly.

  “What’s she doing here?” I ask, none too friendly.

  She had theoretically helped, but I’m not sure I trust her.

  “We were coming to find you. While you were all preoccupied, I searched through the lockers and read the other’s notes.”

  I cross my arms, wondering why he’d done that.

  “Chancellor Andrews tasked me to keep an eye on all of you so that we could glean what the council was up to.”

  “Let me guess, the meat head twins’ challenge was to kill me?”

  He purses his lips and shakes his head. His eyes avoid mine and suddenly, I’m feeling nervous about whatever he’s going to say.

  “They were to kill someone, but not you. Holly.” He bends his head toward her. “That’s why she’s with me. I don’t know if I can trust her now that I know she’s a witch, but I couldn’t let her die.”

  “Hey! I’m half witch and I helped save your friends, so fuck yourself, Druitt.”

  “Why did they want her dead?” I ask Lance.

  “I believe they learned that the Chancellor was keeping an eye on her. They were afraid she was using her witch abilities to uncover their secrets.”

  “The council has only been here one time and they’ve lost their powers. How can they know all about what’s happening here? I know those two have been working for them, but I doubt they knew any of this was going on. They’re morons.”

  “There’s been a traitor amongst us,” Lance says, stony.

  “Emperor Lucius,” I say, looking at the Chancellor in sympathy.

  Chancellor Andrews has been certain that his friendship with the Chancellor bought him loyalty from the man, and knowing that friendship is betrayed is horrible. I truly feel for him.

  “It wasn’t Lucius,” the Chancellor says. “He’s been imprisoned at the council Headquarters for treason. They learned that he was withholding information. Most likely from the same person who’s deceived us all.”

  “Who?” I say, wanting to know already.

  Who could possibly be privy to all of the happenings? We were all doing our own things. Lance was separate from the Trials as his directives came from the Chancellor, and ours came from the council. I’m the only common denominator. Surely, they don’t think I’ve betrayed them.

  “I didn’t. I’d never,” I stutter, feeling angry that they could even think such a thing.

  “No Gwen. Not you.”

  I huff indignantly. “Well then who?”

  “Tristan.”

  “No,” I argue. “That’s not possible. He’s on my side. He’d never.”

  The room spins around me. It can’t be true. He won’t hurt me. Not again and not like this. I’ve given myself to him and he’s promised he’d never hurt me again.

  Again.

  “Where is he then?” Mallory says, eyes filled with compassion. Gareth had released his bindings and never paid another bit of attention to him. Why would he have done that? He wouldn’t.

  Lance comes to me, tipping my chin up so that our eyes met. “I’m so sorry, Gwen. I never wanted to have to tell you this, but he’s been working with the council from the beginning.”

  “I don’t believe it,” I say, lacking conviction.

  His sad eyes shine with sympathy. “Here, I have proof.”

  Lance hands me a letter. It’s Tristan’s final trial letter.

  Make Gwen D’Morte believe that you care for her enough that she’ll tell you all of her secrets. If she does not have the Sight ability, kill her. If she does, detain her and call for us so that we can retrieve her. Do this, and your position as a Knight will be sealed.

  The letter drops from my shaking hand as I drop to my knees. Excruciating pain lances through me, as tears cascading down my face in a river of sorrow.

  He lied.

  He’s never cared for me, and once again Lance is here to pick up the pieces. A steel resolve spreads through me, icing over all the warm places that makes me vulnerable and weak.

  Tristan Locke has broken me one too many times.

  Never again.

  I’ll find him and make him wish he’s never come to Avalon Institute. Even if I die in the process.

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  About the Author

  Bailey Dark is obsessed with all things dark, hot, and supernatural. From Fae to Aliens, her heroes are thoroughly alpha and pure raw masculinity. When she’s not writing (which is hardly ever) she’s busy watching every movie in the marvel universe, or binging supernatural on her couch. So come along, and enter her dark world. . . .

  https://www.baileydarkromance.com/

  Series by Bailey Dark

  Mated to The Fae King (complete)

  Captive of Shadows

  Warlords of Farian (complete)

  Avalon Academy Series

  & More!

  FREE Preview - Promised to The Shadow King

  Chapter One

  Briar

  I sit still as Laurel leans over me to paint a red stain on my lips. The paint is cool, and her touch is soft. It’s something she’s done many times before, but today is different. Today I can see her hand trembling. My own stomach roils with nerves, but I try to push them down unsuccessfully. At my feet, Sera manicures my nails and massages the arch gently. She’s trying to calm me, I think. It won’t work.

  "Gods, can you imagine?" Rose, my oldest sister, sighs, dramatically. She fiddles with my hair as if to help the servants do it up. "I bet he smells like rotting corpses."

  I bite the inside of my lip, careful not to ruin the stain Laurel so carefully painted. She’s drawing kohl around my eyes now, giving me a dramatic look. She’s silent while Rose convinces my second oldest sister, Delphine, of King Kane’s horrific stench. I can see the worry in Laurel’s eyes. I reach out and pat her knee, quickly so my sisters don’t see. They’ve never approved of my friendships with the servants.

  “D
o you think he really has claws and horns?” Delphine asks. Her naïve voice is sweet but strange; it’s always come from the back of her throat.

  I watch in the mirror as Rose rolls her eyes. “Of course he does, you ninny. He’s got horns all along his back and a tail too.”

  “A tail?” Delphine gasps, looking horrified. Her eyes flash towards me worriedly, but Rose wraps her arm in a vice-like grip.

  "Don't worry about Briar, he wanted her, remember?" Rose cuts her eyes towards me. "Maybe he's a shapeshifter and will wear a skin to please her."

  I keep my face a still mask, an expression I’ve mastered. Rose is trying to comfort me in her own way, but she’s always been too self-centered to practice it. Now, her attempt is half-hearted and clumsy. “I’m sure it will be fine,” I murmur.

  Sera rises from her knees and inspects my hair. She tuts, giving me a familiar, scolding look. I almost smile, relieved that we can at least pretend it’s a normal day and not the Day of Collection. “What shall we do with these tangles of coal?” She asks lightly.

  Rose sniffs at Sera’s teasing words. “Mind how you speak,” she says through pursed lips.

  “How do you think he would like it?” My heart drums rapidly in my chest and I touch my hair tentatively.

  Sera’s shoulders stiffen at my question. “A man would be pleased to run his fingers through your hair. But perhaps we should make him work for it.”

  “Alright,” I say, a small grin on my lips.

  My tutors have taught me the mechanics of pleasuring a man, or at least mentioned it, but the details of it escape me. For most girls, it’s the eldest sister who takes the leap of marriage and beds a man first, but today it’s me. We’ve known since my birth that it would be me, and so my sisters have moved on from the slight. No one postpones an engagement to King Kane to simply marry the other sisters off. No one would dare. Despite his reputation and my fear, there’s a yearning in me to please him, to make him happy that he chose me twenty years ago.

  Sera makes quick work of my hair while Laurel finishes my makeup. Delphine sighs happily at the sight of me, clapping her hands together. “You look as pretty as a princess,” she says.

  I grin at her. We’ve told each other that since we were children, it always made us giggle that the commoners compared beauty to a princess. I open my mouth to reply when Rose ushers Sera away from my hair and puts on the finishing touches. She bites her bottom lip and pulls a pearl pin from her pocket. I inhale sharply in surprise as Rose slips it into my hair, completing the look.

  “Mother would have wanted you to have it,” she murmurs. “And perhaps it will bring some luck with the Dead King.”

  “Rose, it’s yours,” I protest. “I can’t take it.”

  “Then let me lend it to you.” She steps out of reach. “And give it back to me when you return.”

  Silence weighs heavily in the room. None of us know if I ever will return. No one knows what awaits me when King Kane arrives to collect on the deal he made all those years ago, the deal that saved my mother’s life for a time. I touch the pin in my hair tentatively. He can’t be that horrid, not when he saved my mother’s life and gave her sixteen years with us. Of course, he did it all in exchange for her lastborn.

  “Come,” Laurel says politely, urging me to my feet.

  I shiver in the thin, elegant gown, I’ve been laced into, and step in front of the long mirror. My sisters and servants study me appraisingly. I hardly recognize myself. The ivory gown accentuates curves I never knew I had, making my breasts look full and supple. Sera has done my hair into a halo around my head, little wisps of my black locks captured by the light. My eyes, already doe-like, are prominent now, and my lips look perfect and pouty. Everything compliments my pale skin and Laurel has left my rosy cheeks on full display.

  I steel my shoulders. It doesn’t matter now, but it will matter later when King Kane and I perform the Unveiling in the privacy of his castle. For now, only my sisters and most trusted friends will see me before he claims me. The last in this realm of the living to truly see me. I swallow hard.

  “You look beautiful,” Rose says stiffly.

  Delphine nods encouragingly, her wide, innocent eyes silver with tears. “If he’s absolutely horrid, I’ll cough twice.” She takes my hands in hers and holds them tight. “Stay strong, Briar.”

  I put on a strong smile even though I don’t feel it. Sera and Laurel return with my veil. A piece of fabric that will cover me from head to toe. It’s red, by the request of King Kane himself, and absolutely covered in precious gems and metals and pearls. The veil is thick and will be heavy with the additional decorations. Delphine places a tall, thin crown on the top of my head. The crown isn’t for decorative purposes, but to hold the veil off of my hair so it won’t ruin the styling.

  I brace myself for the heavy fabric. Sera and Laurel drape it over the crown and I wobble under the sudden weight. Rose catches me. “I told you to exercise more, you weak little girl,” she hisses.

  I grimace apologetically, meeting her eyes. All I see is cerulean blue, completely opposite of my gray eyes, before the veil shrouds me in darkness. I can hardly see the glow of light through the threads of the veil. My heart is in my throat as panic sets in. I've never been one for dark or small, cramped spaces. I wring my hands together out of sight until I've calmed. Sera sticks her head under the veil, and I look down on her, panic clear in my eyes. She smiles encouragingly and mouths that she’ll miss me. I nod desperately and force my eyes away before I fall into tears.

  It’s all real now. I’ve been thinking of and preparing for this moment my entire life, but somehow, I’m not ready for it. All year, I felt nervous and excited about meeting my future husband, wondering what he looks like and how he speaks. I’ve dreamt about the sound of his voice. But, Gods, I would give anything for just one more year at home.

  “Come, Delphine,” Rose says. “We must put on our own veils.”

  “Yes,” Delphine whispers. She leans close to me. “Remember, two coughs.”

  According to custom, all unmarried women must be veiled during the Collection so as not to distract the groom from his bride. My sisters will wear detailed and lovely veils, but they will be the traditional ivory. The door snaps shut, and I know they’ve gone. I sag a little, revealing my fear to my friends.

  “Don’t listen to them,” Laurel says. I feel her hand through the veil as she rubs my arm. “King Kane won’t have fangs, or claws, or a tail.”

  “He’ll be handsome and kind,” Sera promises.

  “Thank you,” I murmur, grateful that my two, true friends wouldn’t try to fill me with fear before I meet him.

  “And remember, if you don’t wish to be wed after the three months, you can come home, no questions asked,” Laurel says eagerly.

  I swallow thickly, throat dry. If I did that, my father would never forgive me, and no suitor would want a tainted woman. But I nod for them, to put them at ease. They make a few adjustments to my veil, making sure it truly does cover me from head to toe. The stone floor is cold against my feet, and I shift nervously. Brides don't wear shoes, entering barefoot into their groom's home.

  I hear the door creak open, and Laurel and Sera guide me towards it. There will be a guard on the other side to escort me to the throne room where the Collection will take place. I shuffle behind the guard, between Sera and Laurel. They hold my elbows when we gingerly descend the many stairs leading from my room to the main floor. I miscalculate the distance for a step and scuff my big toe against the stone. I hiss, pain flaring and settling into a dull throb.

  The guard’s loud footsteps halt and I know we’ve reached our destination. My stomach is filled with butterflies, so many that I fear I’ll vomit the meager lunch I was forced to eat. I’m grateful, for once, for the thick veil that hides my panic-filled eyes from view. I don’t want my father to see how terrified I am. I think I’m practically green.

  I feel a strong arm around me and lean into my father’s embrace. �
�Remember, what you do, you do for your mother and Ryrn,” he murmurs.

  I nod fiercely, fighting back the tears pooling in my eyes. I can’t cry. It will ruin my makeup. “I know, father,” I whisper.

  He pulls away and I’m filled with fear again. “Don’t be afraid. You’re a Princess of Ryrn.”

  His words mean little to me now that I’m already drowning in anxiety, but I nod anyway. My sisters enter the throne room first, their heeled shoes tapping on the floor as they’re escorted by servants. My father follows, and the door closes behind him. I wait alone, Sera and Laurel were sent away. Through the door, I can hear my father’s booming voice as he discusses the terms of the Collection with King Kane. He makes a swift speech about the ties between our kingdoms. And then the door opens again.

  I take a hesitant step forward, my feet never lifting from the ground, so I don’t lose my footing or sense of direction. I walk as regally as I can into the throne room, holding my head high. It’s the cold that almost stops me first. I hesitate, fear coiling around my heart. I’ve never felt cold like this before, the kind that creeps over you like a snake. I shuffle forward until I reach the soft padding of a carpet; my spot.

  When I turn and face in the direction of my groom, it’s completely black. There’s no light filtering through my veil any longer, it’s as dark as night. I almost jump when my father’s voice rings out beside me.

  “I, Alban Charleroi Deslionne, offer you a Daughter of Ryrn,” my father intones.

  My heart pounds, waiting for my groom’s reply. “I,” a silky voice purrs from in front of me. I feel weak at the knees, relieved to hear a normal voice. Kane’s voice is deep, without grating on my ears; an addictive sound. “I, Kane Enfer of the line of the Gods, accept this Daughter of Ryrn.”

 

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