Escaping Hallow Hill Academy: A Supernatural Prison Academy Romance (Dr. Hyde's Prison for the Rare Book 1)

by A. K. Koonce

  And I know he’s about to pull sadly away.

  Before his lips fully break from mine, my nails dig into his shirt hard enough to scratch deeply into his shoulder. I drag him closer to me. Kiss him harder. Hold him tighter.

  “Make me forget,” I beg in a whisper like broken glass and rasping lust.

  Our eyes lock. Every inch of him tenses against me. It’s a single second of uncertainty.

  But it dissolves faster than the flash of fear in his gaze.

  And then he’s shoving down my jeans. Forceful hands and rushing touches slam my bare thighs against the wall, and I kick frantically at the clothes still trying to cling to my ankles. It’s a rush that never slows. The back and forth of our mouths, the dominating fight between our bodies, even as he grips my thighs and hoists me high against the wall. It's like our minds won't forget the anger between us, even as the lust builds to an unimaginable high. The need between us edges on violent. Sharp nails dig into sensitive flesh. Moans turn to whimpers that are kissed away with hot lashing tongues.

  It’s beautifully brutal.

  Just like the way he slams every inch of him into me without caution. The scream that tears from my throat is kissed away with a gentler stroke of his affection. His hips thrust hard, but suddenly, he’s gentle against my lips. Over and over and over again, he fills me on the deepest level possible while whispering love seems to cover my parted lips. It’s chaste. And promising. And . . . exhilaratingly terrifying.

  “Sialen,” I gasp as my thighs tighten around his waist, and he continues his tormenting pace of drilling into my wetness. He ignores the lost sound of his name as I shudder harder in his arms. “Sia—” I work against him in a harmonious rhythm that has him groaning against my mouth and digging his nails into the underside of my thighs so hard it hurts.

  But I don’t feel the pain.

  No more pain exists in me.

  Not right now.

  All I feel is the waves of desire that are thrumming to release. They’re climbing. Pulsing. Throbbing.

  He jars into me, rocking firmly into my clit as he buries himself as deep as he can.

  Then I break.

  I break apart in his strong arms. I’m a mess of breathlessness, tangled hair, and trembling limbs.

  He holds onto those beautiful shattered pieces of me as he continues. He never pauses, and the relentlessness of his pace is enough to chase another uncontrollable pulsing right through my core.

  This time, when I cry out, it’s his name against my lips. And it’s his groan that hushes my words. His release throbs hard against my own, and as we fall apart in one another, he kisses me deeply like I’m the first and last person he’ll ever love.

  Maybe I am.

  Maybe the magic of our blood will always yearn for one another.

  And maybe someday, we won't be two shattered souls who despise the harsh edges we scrape against one another.

  Someday.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The following hours are even stranger. Stranger than fucking the one man I’ve hated more than any other.

  Because in the darkness, he lays me down on the soft mattress. He wipes away the wetness between my thighs with something that feels oddly like devoted affection. Euphoric bliss is no longer clouding my mind, and only confused defensiveness is left in my thoughts as he takes care of me.

  The blanket is cool against my sweaty skin as he pulls it high over my body and practically tucks me in.

  Yes, this feels like a trap indeed.

  When long fingers stroke along my hairline, I lash out with a quick strike of my hand against his wrist. His eyes are watchful in the dim moonlight. But they’re not conniving.

  They’re hooded and sweet.

  He looks sweet.

  And my mind doesn’t like that either.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, gripping his wrist even tighter as he stares down on me in the little warm cocoon he’s built around me.

  Those dark eyebrows of his pull together tightly. “I—I have no idea,” he whispers with a heavy sigh.

  The realness of it settles into my own anxious chest.

  He’s just as off balance from all of this as I am, and we don't know how to proceed.

  We’re so good at disliking each other. So damn good at making one another miserable. Who knew we would also be amazing at making one another feel total ecstasy as well?

  “Well, stop.” I release his wrist, and now it’s his turn to find his defensiveness.

  “Stop? You want me to stop being nice to you? Holy Lady of Death, you’re fucking exhausting.”

  And. Here. We. Go.

  I swallow hard and try even harder to get ahead of all the progress we’ve made before we shit all over it.

  “No. I mean . . . just . . .” I fumble for words while we glare at one another like we’re three seconds away from ripping out one another’s throats. “Lie down!” I command on a tone a bit too gruff.

  Nice. Yeah. Screaming at him will definitely get him to do as you say, Em.

  “Please,” I add on a warm voice like sex and honey.

  Slitted eyes continue to assess me, and I just know he’s calculating the outcome of all of this.

  What’s the worst that could happen? I big spoon him and gut him from the sternum down while he sleeps?

  Wow. Maybe I need to reevaluate my twisted idea of what a love life should look like.

  During my psychotic thinking, he lowers himself down. He sits at the very edge of the mattress. I watch him as he stares off into the darkness for a full two seconds. I wonder what he’s thinking and if his thoughts are as morbid as my own.

  I suppose they’re not. Because he hesitantly lies down at my side. The barest amount of space lingers between his shoulder and mine. With our attention held on the dark shadows of the ceiling above, we find comfort in one another, side by side.

  It’s nice. It’s intimate, and I find myself all too aware of the beating of my heart. And the thoughts of the man who is now taking over my mind.

  “What happened to your runes, Sia?” I ask on a whisper so quiet, it’s almost too afraid to truly come out.

  Another long breath leaves him, and he never once looks my way.

  But to my surprise, he does answer.

  “There’s things that happen here that people don’t talk about. The academy is a lifesaving gift for some people. For hunted species like the shapeshifters and the demons. They’d be murdered just for being different. But people like me and you, we’re hunted for our power.” He turns on his side and without warning, his palm traces lines over my abdomen. It tickles at first. It distracts me, and I think it distracts him. And so, I let him. I let him touch me as much as he wants. Because I recognize that sadness he’s hiding in his steely eyes. “I came here to stop being used by the outside world. But now I’m being used on the inside, too.” He levels me with a heavy stare, and my heart’s slamming so hard in my chest, it makes it hard to breathe.

  Every word he speaks feels threatening. He’s holding me and breaking me all at the same time.

  “Just say it,” I grind out as my eyes close slowly. I don’t know why I push my hand over his. I halt his movements, but more than that, I thread my fingers through his.

  And he squeezes just gently enough to make the fear in my heart pause.

  “They’re extracting magic from us. For some, it’s a small amount given by blood during classes or exams, things we’d never think twice about.” His breath catches, and the following words are so quiet it hurts my chest to hear the hint of weakness in his tone. “And for supernaturals like me and you—fuck, even your roommate— they take it by force. Until there’s nothing left to take.”

  My nails dig into the back of his hand as I stare wide-eyed at the man lying so close, I could tip my head up and kiss him.

  But that’s the farthest thing on my mind.

  “Who? Headmistress Krist?”

  “No. She doesn’t get her hands dirty. She has others to
do it for her.”

  Hyde.

  People don’t like to say the doctor’s name. He’s a mystery man in this place. A myth. A legend.

  A fucking nightmare.

  “Why? What are they using us for? And how are they taking Sekar magic?” The simple word is seething with pent-up anger and flickering violence.

  Pale white hair shifts back and forth against the pillow as he shakes his head slowly.

  “I have no idea. I only remember the before. And the after . . . the after was burning agony. Days of recovery. Headmistress Krist used to nurse me back to health like I was her own son. Until the magic bled out of my runes.”

  I blink through all the questions slamming through my mind and try to take them one at a time.

  He chuckles, and the sound is a bitter, dead thing. "I shouldn't have trusted her so easily, but by the time I realized what she wanted, it was too late. She had me in her grip. Without powers, without my relic, little more than her slave. And then—" He breaks off and goes silent.

  “Then what?”

  His dark lashes lift, and he stares so deeply into my eyes, it feels like he’s looking for his own soul instead of mine.

  “Then she said they needed two.”

  “Two what?” Confused stupidity slips through me.

  It’s a blessing, really.

  Confusion is a bliss for those who do not know what awaits them.

  And that’s exactly what it is for me.

  Until he says what I should have known all along.

  “Sekars.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  That one word has lit up a fire within me like nothing ever has.

  I was brainwashed into the promises of safety and protection, but it’s always come at a price, one I’m not willing to pay when their safety means little more than slavery and experimentation. And their experiment, it’s breeding. They need two Sekars because they ruined the one they had. They’ll breed our power somehow.

  I may not know how or why. But I know e-fucking-nough.

  They’ve taken the Sekar within Sialen, and they’ve broken him. They’ve hexed Styx, and suppressed Rue’s truest, most powerful form. They’ll break all of us eventually. Including me.

  We’re leaving. All of us.

  As soon as I find Kira, who hasn’t come back from her checkup. I haven’t seen her it feels like in days.

  And to do that, I have to get rid of the threat of belladonna first.

  For that, I call a meeting. We need a plan, and I need them to help me come up with one because I can’t stand it here anymore.

  I hold the door open for Sialen as he prowls into the room, arms crossed against his chest. Once the door is firmly closed, I turn in time to see Sia, emotionless, brooding Sia, nearly stumble at the sight of Styx and Rue. I never really specified that it would be a group meeting, but that was so I could get him here without argument.

  I don’t bother with introductions, though, as I step deeper into the room.

  “We’re leaving,” I announce the moment they all settle within safe distances of one another. My feet scrape across the floors as I pace, but only silence greets my words. I stop and stare around at the three men there. Three men who have come to mean so much to me in such a short amount of time. Before, I never would have even admitted that. I was always used to being alone, and now I’m used to them.

  They’re ingrained in my soul as much as my Holy Lady of Death.

  Styx sits cross-legged on the floor, and I try to ignore his nudity because this conversation is important, but damn, his massive body is distracting. Strong muscles bulge and flex, looking so at odds with the innocent, submissive expression.

  I have to force a breath of air into my lungs to find some leftover oxygen to throw at my sex-starved little brain and keep ahold of the important conversation at hand.

  Sialen leans against one wall and Rue against the other on the opposite side of the room. I notice how often their glares collide despite the space that separates them, but that’s irrelevant in this moment.

  “Did you guys hear me?”

  Rue uncrosses his arms. “We heard you, ma chère.” That deep voice settles over me like a comforting blanket and instantly calms the nerves I didn’t realize I had.

  “Well?” I’m a little offended they haven’t said anything about my announcement.

  “Well?” Sialen echoes, his voice gravelly and irritated. Gone is the gentleness in the tone that caressed over my skin and brought me to the heights of pleasure. “How the fuck do you expect us to do that?”

  Rue shoots Sialen another glare, and I feel the testosterone and aggressiveness swell in the room. Ah, fuck.

  Rue turns to me, dismissing Sialen with a simple flick of his fingers. I can’t help but marvel at the elegance in his movements. He’s sinuous and reeks of sensuality on such an ephemeral level that it’s distracting.

  My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as he prowls closer to me and stops just a foot away. His finger slips between the space where the silver collar meets his neck. “We can’t. We have tried, chère.”

  “You’ve tried alone,” I argue. “If we work together, I know we can do it.”

  His dark eyes bleed red and soften into gentleness. “Ma chère . . . The collars are embedded into our necks.”

  “I got mine off. I can get yours off, too.”

  “Be that as it may, what about yours?” He steps closer, and his hand slides down the back of my shirt and spine, right over the metal extension. Though he touches metal, I can feel the touch as if it’s on my skin.

  My heart beats quickly. I know how hopeless this looks. Me more than anyone. I’ve scouted all the exits, counted all the guards. I made the calculations. Escape will be hard, but nothing is impossible. Not with Lady Death at my side.

  “We have to try.” Because I would rather fight for my freedom than spend another moment here.

  “It will kill you.” I feel a pulse deep in my chest. A pulse of rage, of nerves. And I hear Rue’s words whisper through my mind for me and me alone. I refuse to lose you. His hand slips to my waist and grips me tightly. Like he’s going to forcefully keep me right here in this room.

  A throat clears hard, and I know it’s Sia.

  I’ve made a mess of the few people in my life who care about me.

  “I’ll risk death if it means freedom,” I finally whisper

  I have to force my gaze away from him and look at Sialen. He understands what it’s like to feel dead inside. He’s suffered my same fate. He will do what I ask.

  “Get this shit off of me.” I turn closer to the Sekar and rip my shirt from my body followed by my bra, exposing my bare back to them and the metal spread down my spine. No one says a word. So I do. “Use your magic, I don’t care, but get it out.”

  “Ma chère . . .” Rue cuts in.

  “Don’t,” I warn him, before he can protest. “Just fucking do it.”

  I hold my breath and wait until I hear soft footfalls, and then a hand goes to the nape of my neck, pushing my hair aside, over my shoulder. It’s gentle. Not at all the way Sia and I have acted toward one another in the past. Something’s shifted in us. Something sweet and terrifying all at the same time. A warm hand grips my shoulder. Fingers slide down the metal of my spine, stopping just at my lower back.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” Sialen’s whisper warms my ear. “But this is going to fucking hurt.” He grips the metal in his palm. “May our Lady Death protect you.” And then he slowly pulls.

  The pain is blinding. It explodes, starting at the base of my spine. I scream and feel my knees buckle beneath me.

  “Stop!” Styx growls.

  Feet pound over wood.

  Rue’s hand comes down along my arm, and I feel his energy slide all through me with that one little touch.

  His pain tears through me, traveling down our bond. I feel it deep in my soul, our connection fracturing as the pain explodes into agony. The metal clings to my spine, and the harder Sial
en pulls, the tighter they hold.

  I know I’m screaming. My throat is hoarse, and darkness flickers on the edges of my blurred vision.

  “Don’t stop!” I tell him. Even with the agony ripping through my whole body, I will pull through it. I bite my tongue and taste blood.

  Emmera! Rue’s voice fractures through my mind with his own agony.

  “Emmera!” Sialen pulls away, but the pain is still there. “You’re connected. I’m fucking hurting the both of you.”

  I fall to the floor and firm hands hold me before I can faceplant. I’m laid out on my stomach, my limbs spread out.

  Thick fingers press into my scalp, but I can’t feel the pleasure when the sharp bursts of pain override it all.

  Alpha . . . Styx’s fingers slide against my skin just as his voice slides into my mind.

  My sweet puppy doesn’t seem to have taken my pain the way the vampire has. Our strange bond seems to only stretch to certain things.

  And luckily, skin-ripping torture isn’t one of them.

  Down the bond with Rue, I feel his pain. It mingles with mine. It is mine, but our connection augments it to painful proportions.

  “Rue.” My voice comes out as a croak. “I’m sorry.”

  “I can feel your sorrow. Your hurt.” His voice is grave and as raspy as mine. "I—I didn't know I could. This is new . . ."

  I didn't either. When he got hurt before, I hadn't felt it. Our bond had been new, fresh, and everything had been overwhelming.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him. The metal clings tighter, like it knows it needs to burrow deeper into me to save itself. Darkness flickers along the edges of my vision. “I’m sorry, Rue. I’m sorry.”

  “Never again. Never fucking again.” Sia’s words hold so much anger that I know it’s regret.

  And I regret asking him to do it.

  I’m cradled against Styx’s smooth shoulder, his fingers playing against my hair. Rue lies next to him, slouching against the wall. He looks tired, but his chest rises with a steady rhythm. I reach for his hand and squeeze it, hoping it conveys how sorry I am.