Cursed Magic
The Daughter of Nyx Series
Charlie Daniels
Moonlit Owl Press
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2020 by Charlie Daniels
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
First paperback edition July 2020
Book cover design by LYNC
Book edited by EC Editorial
ISBN 9798655428034 (paperback)
ASIN B086XKHB5Q (ebook)
authorcharlottedaniels.com
To my partner in crime,
thanks for putting up with me :-)
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Next In the Daughter of Nyx Series
Please Review
About the Author
Also by Charlie Daniels
Also by Charlotte Daniels
Prologue
I kneel in the clearing, the dirt soft with coagulating blood, gazing down on the bodies of my closest friends—who were my closest friends. The sun bears down on me from its apex in the sky; how long has it been?
Movement at the tree line ahead draws my attention. My instincts tell me to leap up, to run, but I’m too tired. If there are more, let them come. I don’t want to do this anymore. I can’t do this anymore.
But it is Master Rostova who breaches the shadows, his expression one of glee. With a strong nose, sharp features, and oiled black hair, he is the epitome of evil. His slow claps echo around the trees, making it sound as if hundreds are clapping with him.
“Ah, my dear, Serena. I was hoping it would be you. Many were betting on Eli here to win,” he says as he nudges the young boy’s corpse with his shoe. “Such a waste, but oh well.”
He shrugs off my classmates’ deaths as if they are nothing as he comes to stand by me. “You are the clear winner and the chosen one to infiltrate the Academy of Light to retrieve the relics of the gods. It’s time for you to clean up. Your ceremony will begin in an hour, and trust me, you’ll want to be prepared.” His eyes darken. “Because the pain you’re going to experience will be nothing compared to this.”
I watch as he and the other teachers waiting at the Forest’s edge disappear before rising to my feet. My eyes draw to the faces of my friends that will haunt me for the rest of my life and my chest tightens at the pain of losing so much. And for the first time, I hate the power I’ve been given.
What I would give to be normal.
Chapter 1
Marble pillars tower before me, reflecting the golden light of the sun across the expanse of manicured grass, greener than anything I’ve ever seen. Topiary and flowers contain the white brick path leading to a pair of wrought-iron gates. Two stone dragon sentries stand guard as I pass. I avoid their eyes. The goodness in the air sends chills across my skin.
“I can’t believe I have to do this,” I groan, staring up at the monstrosity that will be my home for the next two years.
“We must all do things we do not like, Serena. You have been chosen—”
I scoff as we follow along the path. “I was chosen because I survived Headmaster Rostova’s damn tests, Lore. Not because I expressed any desire to come here.” My magic flares, flickering across my skin. The dark space behind my eyes is replaced by an image that I hastily shake away. “He didn’t exactly give me a choice.”
I inhale the sickly sweet air, letting it cleanse away the memory of the man’s sick and twisted games. Information is knowledge. Knowledge is power. I will use my time here to benefit myself, not just him.
I stop at the end of the path and gather my bearings as my fellow students move past me, toward the school. I step off the path, away from them and their pressed uniforms, happy expressions, and shudderingly blissful auras.
You’d think they were under some sort mind control because there’s no way everyone could be this cheerful otherwise. I scoff, earning a few cautious stares from some students nearby. When our eyes meet, I send them a grin that they reciprocate by walking away.
I’m not sure what they saw in my smile, but whatever it was, they didn’t like it. Or maybe they just spotted the black broach on my jacket, indicating that I’m dark. But that’s not as exciting as saying the mere sight of my face scared them to death.
Spotting a vacant bench, I plop down, heaving my luggage onto the space beside me: a deterrent. “Assimilate,” I mutter. “How in the gods’ names am I meant to assimilate in a place like this?” I signal hopelessly to the gleaming white bench I’m sitting on. Gazing around at the bright world, I drag my palms down my jeans, uncomfortable.
A writhing sensation on my forearm prompts me to pull up the sleeve of my jacket. My onyx-and-silver owl tattoo stares up at me; her wings are graced with touches of emerald green, the same as her eyes.
“Do you want to morph out?” I ask.
Her wings bristle in my mind. “Yes, if that’s agreeable. I’d like to smell the air you’re not so fond of.”
My tattoo glows a myriad of colors as Lore worms herself free of my arm. The deep prickling burn of her movement makes me wince, not so much from pain, but from memory.
Heavy chains hanging from the roof of the ceremonial dungeon suspend my wrists. I kneel on the hard floor, the cold, dampness seeping through to my knees. And I wait.
I hear the sizzle before I feel the pain. Excruciating pain. The hot brand sits against the flesh of my forearm, sealing my fate.
I scream until my throat is hoarse, then scream some more. For how long? Minutes, hours, days?
I gag as the smell of burned flesh fills the air.
“MISTRESS!”
The vision vanishes, along with the phantom stench. Lore’s calming warmth floods my senses, drowning out the darkness.
I draw in a shaky breath to calm the rush of adrenaline surging through my veins. Clutching the emerald around my neck, I close my eyes and focus on the sound of the wind rustling through the trees, the smell of spring blossom, and the sound of my beating heart as it slows, regaining some semblance of control. Maybe being here won’t be so terrible if the air continues to smell like this—absent of darkness, pain, or blood.
“Thank you, Lore,” I breathe out.
Her concern is evident as she lands on my shoulder and nudges me with her beak. “You are welcome. Now come, we have a student population to woo over.”
Rising from the bench, I heave my bags back onto my shoulders and shove my emotions into the pit of my stomach, far away from my head; I can’t afford any distractions.
Making our way through the marble pillars, we emerge into a central courtyard, and I can’t help but snort. Of course, their courtyard looks like this. Benches are positioned strategically
around the vast area, and a variety of blossoming trees are scattered throughout the yard, allowing for areas of both shade and light.
My lips pull into a small smile at the irony. Our world hangs in a delicate balance of both light and dark. We need the other to survive, yet both sides seek to overthrow the other. Our history is filled with wars of our doing, the humans being our puppets with absolutely no idea of who truly runs the world.
We move to the side of the path, allowing students to pass us by. “Well, my little ball of darkness, are you ready to join the Light?” I ask, scratching Lore’s feathers. My question, despite having been whispered, draws the attention of a few nearby students.
They glance over curiously first, and when I look back, realization dawns on their faces. Whispers of “Dark Academy” reach me, and I resist an eye roll. Nothing gets past these guys, clearly.
“All right, eyes front!” I call to a particular gossiping clique, leveling them with a hard stare. Their faces pale, and they continue on their way.
A louder voice to my left says, “Is she alone? Someone really should be keeping an eye on her.”
I half-turn to see the backside of a golden-blonde girl with two other girls—a strawberry blonde and a dirty blonde—by her sides. The strawberry nods in agreement, muttering something about me being “Untrustworthy.”
This time I don’t suppress rolling my eyes. But the leading blonde’s words do raise a more valid question. I adjust the strap on my laptop bag so I can retrieve my welcome packet. Opening the glossy white envelope, I pull out my induction schedule. A name had been hastily written on it: “Declan.”
A shadow falls over the paper in my hands.
“Are you Serena? Serena Stollmeyer?” A deep, velvety voice asks.
Lifting my eyes from the schedule, I barely contain my gasp at the hulking Adonis towering over me. He has dark-brown hair, striking blue eyes, and a presence that would send any lesser woman either running or swooning.
But what draws me to him the most is the amount of power hidden within him. His aura flickers around his chest, and it’s like part of it is being vacuumed into him—a very real indicator that there’s more to this pretty boy than good looks. Why does he keep it hidden? Does he know exactly how strong he is, or could be?
Scanning over his body, I search for a weakness in his aura so I can delve into this fascinating withheld power, but I stop short at the smirk gracing his lips and his aura disappears completely. He eyes me dubiously.
“I believe he caught on,” Lore says. I cough, hiding my smile behind my hand as Lore continues, “He appears to be masking his presence somehow. How fascinating. We must—”
“No, we must not. Eating him alive wouldn’t do us any good, Darkness.” I reach up and stroke her feathers. The guy’s eyes bulge to my satisfaction before he composes himself, eyeing us with a new expression, one I hadn’t expected—curiosity.
“Yes, I’m Serena,” I say to him. “And this here is Darkness.” Lore bristles, nudging me with her head, clearly not satisfied with my lie or the name I’ve chosen for her.
The guy tilts his head to the side. “You are not what I expected.”
I grin and shrug. “Expect the unexpected with me, handsome. I’m assuming you’re Declan? My jailor—I mean, tour guide for the day?” I ask, my voice sickly sweet.
Declan barely has a chance to nod before a gasp rings out from behind him. I watch in fascination as a mask slips over his eyes at the sound. The blonde trio hurries to his side, their eyes flicking between us—him with adoration, and me with disgust.
Oh no, the horror. I try to contain my smile but all I end up doing is grinning like an insane person. And I’m okay with that.
“Excuse me, but…” The more golden of the blondes turns to Declan. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear as she says, “Did I hear that right? You’re going to be a… tour guide? To her, no less?” She juts a thumb at me.
“That’s right,” Declan says.
“You ought to be careful. You know those of the Dark are unpredictable. Just look at her!” she says.
I frown, looking down at my leather jacket and jeans, then back to Lore, who fluffs her wings in a shrug. I turn back to the girl. “Oh, is there blood in my hair? Sorry, I just arrived from a massacre. Only had time for a quick shower.”
All three girls rear back in horror, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. I’m pleased to see that Declan appears to be concealing the same expression.
“Mistress, please don’t antagonize these girls. They are… what do you call them? The mean girls? The pack leaders? Sheepherders?”
“See what I mean?” The golden blonde seems to have recovered. “She jokes about murder, Declan. Who even does that? I’m sure we can find someone more suited to the position. Hey, you!” Blondie clicks her fingers at a passing boy who stops and stares at her with confusion.
“What?” he says.
At that moment, Declan steps in, gently pushing her clicking hand down. “I’ll be fine.”
“But—”
He tilts his head at her, and extraordinarily, the girl shuts up. I smirk. Cool.
Noticing my smile, the girl glares daggers at me, and my fingers tingle with the need to pop a few curses in her direction. “When is the right time to defend myself, Lore?” I whisper, my mouth hidden behind the envelope.
“It would be wise not to show your powers unless necessary, Serena. Please don’t ruin our chances of blending in. We have a mission to complete.”
“Fine. But you owe me. I know you’re only saying that because you want to get your nerd brain to the library.” I chuckle, and she lightly pecks my cheek.
“Let’s go, Serena. We have to sign in for the entrance examination, and I don’t feel like dealing with these… minor herding animals. They make my feathers itch.”
I grin at her poor excuse for a diss, then turn my attention back to those before me.
“As much as I would love to continue with this delightful charade, I have places to be and an exam to squash you all in. So, if you’ll excuse me.” With a two-fingered salute, I sidestep my fans and make my way toward the entrance of the school, parting crowds of students like the red sea as I go.
I shield my eyes as I step into the harsh morning sunlight and onto the walkway leading toward a marble entryway where the other students seem to linger before moving inside.
I follow after them and catch the door as it swings closed behind a couple of girls. I almost have to squint as I walk inside. Bright ceiling lights bounce off the marble floors, and natural light from the large windows reflects off the pristine white walls. The architecture is modern, composed of clean lines and enough white paint to fill a swimming pool. Not a speck of dirt disrupts the perfection. Not a hint of darkness taints the purity. It kind of reminds me of—
I pause and shove the memories back deep down to where they belong, but not before seeing her piercing emerald eyes and soft smile.
“See, Lore? I don’t need to resort to violence. Aren’t you proud?” I say to distract myself, and she chirps affirmatively.
“So, Darkness has a proper name?” Declan says, and I fight the urge to shut the door firmly behind me. Lore lets out a long hoot, confirming his suspicion. I send her a scowl as I turn around, and Declan grins smugly. He raises a hand and points over my shoulder, to the right. “You’re heading that way.”
“Right…” I say and turn back around to follow his finger.
Seeing a line of students forming at a desk with their registration papers, I veer toward them, pulling out my own from the envelope. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end when a familiar presence comes to loiter behind me.
“You know, in most developed countries, stalking is considered harassment,” I say, looking straight ahead. The people in front of me turn, their eyes widening as they realize who I’m talking to. Or more accurately, who I’m accusing.
But he just laughs. And I thought I was weird. I don’t know whe
ther he’s touched in the head or if he gets off on sass. And a strong part of me wants to figure it out.
“We are not here to make romance with boys, Serena,” Lore scolds.
“‘Make romance’? What have you been reading?” I whisper as quietly as possible, but the deep chuckle behind me tells me it wasn’t soft enough.
“Next!” A voice calls as the boy in front of me moves off to the side and through a door to the right. As he does, the woman behind the desk catches sight of me, and her eyes widen, but it is her assistant who turns a sickly, white shade when her eyes land on the dark pin on my jacket. I steel my spine, and a shutter falls over my face as the assistant stares at me, her fear palpable. When neither says anything, I release some of the tension in my shoulders and roll my eyes.
“Hello, my name is Serena. I’m the guinea—” Lore pecks my cheek. I sigh and change course. “I’m the Academy of the Dark transfer student, here on trial.” I hand over my papers which the assistant takes in her shaking hands, but her eyes never move from mine.
“I believe I am meant to participate in the entrance exam, and if I pass, I am allowed admittance into the academy,” I say, but it appears she barely registers my words, so I turn my gaze to the older woman who has taken my papers from the girl and is reading over them.
“Maybe we did not take into account the fear that regular light conjurers have for our kind…” Lore whispers with a hint of sadness.
Drawing a deep breath, I move closer to the table until we’re practically on top of it, and I smile—or at least, I hope I’m smiling—in a non-scary kind of way. The girl rears back.
Cursed Magic: A Paranormal Academy Romance (Daughter of Nyx Series Book 1) Page 1
