Magic Captive: A Supernatural Academy Romance (The Velkin Royal Academy Series Book 2)

by Emmeline Winter

  MAGIC CAPTIVE

  Emmeline Winter

  Copyright © 2020 by Alys Murray

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.

  Chapter One

  Carolyn

  It was no small thing, trying to save the world. And it was no small thing trying to save the world and the man you loved, all at the same time.

  In the span of only a semester, I’d gone to a magical realm, fallen in love with its future king, made friends with a pixie and her kind of but not really sort of boyfriend—who happened to be brothers with the future king I loved—and, along the way, managed to get involved in the upcoming war between their world, Velkin, and my world, Earth.

  Not exactly how I’d wanted my senior year to go.

  There was also the small problem of my boyfriend getting infected with evil magic by his younger, formerly banished brother, who’d now returned to start the aforementioned war between the realms.

  Now, it was up to me to try and save everyone. No pressure.

  I, Carolyn Connors, had to save the world. Well, all of the worlds. And all of the people in them. Or, in the case of Velkin, all of the people and elves and witches and warlocks and orcs and pixies and eternals and vampire and sirens and….Well, everyone.

  That started here, with my best friend, Krya, and Prince Tormin, the man she loved but couldn’t have. They’d found me in my earthly banishment and convinced me to give the whole world-saving thing a try.

  I hadn’t wanted to do it. Not at first. Prince Anatole, the man I loved, was the one to banish me. He’d sent me back to earth like I was nothing, telling me that he didn’t love me or want me anymore. And soon, the feeling became mutual. I grew to hate him. I closed my heart against all feeling, against everything I’d wanted and dreamed of during my time in Velkin.

  But the truth was, I did still love him. And I knew, deep in my heart, that something wicked was rotting the heart of Velkin. If I could find it and cut it out, then maybe I could get him back, too.

  It was a big, foolish thought. A daydream, really, considering how we’d parted and what dangers lay ahead of me. But if I didn’t have that kind of delusional hope, then there was no way I was making it through this. No way at all.

  In a secluded corner of Central Park, where the trees grew thick and the only eyes to watch us came from nesting pigeons up in their branches, Kyra and Tormin and I prepared to make the big leap through the walls between our worlds. It would take a great kind of magic, but Tormin was practiced in this art of world-traversing.

  “Alright, ladies,” Tormin said, his usual bombastic and warm voice decidedly muted and serious. A chill ran up and down my spine; he was never like this. He almost sounded…nervous. “There’s only enough magic left in me to do this once. The barriers are proving much tougher than usual.”

  “Okay, Tormin. Thank you.” Kyra turned to me, her usually bouncy curls shaking limply as she did. “Carolyn, you remember the plan?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  It wasn’t much of a plan. There were vague outlines and sketches of what we were going to do. Get back into the castle. Get Anatole to talk to me again. Hope for the best. But the spaces in between those directives were vast enough to swallow me entirely. I looked in Kyra’s eyes, expecting to find my bright, bubbly friend as she usually was. Delighted and delightful. But just like Tormin, she couldn’t hide her own fear, her own uncertainty.

  I didn’t blame her. The Elvish superiority had been bad before Velkin had been infected by dark magic and taken over by the darkest and most evil and most corrupt of the princes. It stood to reason that it would only get worse after all of that. I wanted to reach out to her, to take her hand and tell her that things were going to be alright, but we both knew that no one could promise that right now. There were too many variables at play, too many things that could go wrong. Too many ways that the world could end.

  Too many ways that we could fail.

  “Just let Tormin do the talking.” Kyra’s smile was watery now. “And fight as best as you can, alright? I know you can do this.”

  My heart slammed against my chest, defiantly. “But what if we get separated? What if I lose you?”

  “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again. I don’t even need to be able to tell the future to know that. Just please…” Kyra reached one of her hands out to me. When I took it, she squeezed it, and I wanted to rest in that warm comfort forever. “Take care of yourself. And Anatole.”

  “I’ll try.”

  “We’re ready,” Kyra said. This time, she reached out to Tormin, who didn’t take her hand at first. Instead, he locked one metallic chain-cuff around her wrist, then did the same to mine. The weight pressed down on my skin, but I didn’t care. If Tormin was going to pretend I was his prisoner long enough to get me in the castle doors, then I needed to look the part.

  Once we were both shackled to him, he finally took our hands, looked us both in the eye, respectively, and began the countdown.

  “Alright, then. Three…Two…One…”

  And then, just like it had on my first trip to Velkin, the world snapped. Cold trickled from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet and light filled my vision until it was all I could see—endless, shapeless, undefined. But then, just as quickly as the sensation had begun, it stopped again, and we were once again at the gates of Castle Bloc.

  At least…That’s where I thought we were. That’s where we were supposed to be, anyway. But if this was the place that I’d once called home, the school where I’d first come into contact with all of the magical beings I’d come to care for, then someone had taken to doing some serious redecorating. The dark-washed stone that had once been inlaid with gold leaf now stood barren and cold, stripped of all that had made it special. The curtains on all of the windows were drawn. I couldn’t see even a flicker of light from the outside where we stood.

  Holding us close, Tormin made for the gate, but a voice from atop one of the many newly built guard towers lining the gates surrounding the castle called out, stopping us in our tracks. When I looked up to the source of the voice, I found a hammered-armored centaur pointing a dangerously sharp arrow in our direction. Its pointed edge glinted even in the dim light.

  “Halt!” The Centaur called, her voice deep and rich and wary. “Who goes there?”

  Tormin slapped on his most charming, most princely, most irritatingly arrogant smile I’d ever seen. Good. He really was playing his part of the roguish, cavalier brother. If his acting skills were this good, then maybe this absurd plan would work after all. “Prince Tormin, son of House Starborn, brother of our once and future King Adric, has returned. Inform my brother at once of my presence. I come bearing gifts.”

  “And what gift would that be?” The centaur called.

  “I don’t concern myself with the questions of an errand girl in armor. Announce me to my brother and I will give him my gift.”

  At first, the centaur looked affronted. But one glance at the carvings on Tormin’s armor, and she offered the smallest, most surly of bows before dashing off, hooves flying, t
owards the castle.

  Not ten minutes later, and we were welcomed back into the castle. Not quite with open arms, but at least this time, no one was pointing weapons at us. The inside of the castle was just as horrific and damaged as the outside. Portraits had been torn down or run through with swords or claws. The heads on the whispering stone dragons had been smashed or their ears and teeth filed down into nothing.

  It was dark. So dark, I was actually grateful for the chains by which Tormin dragged me. Without those, I might have gotten lost in the familiar hallways.

  When, finally, we reached the main entryway of the castle, the centaur who’d invited us back in once again knocked on the doors of the grand receiving room. With my head bowed and my eyes trained on the floor, I couldn’t see the newest prince—no, the new King—but I could hear his conversation.

  “Prince Tormin, son of House Starborn, has returned.”

  “Has he now?” A voice, deep and weak, hissed. “Send him in.”

  That was all it took for our charade to begin properly. Dragging us alongside him, Tormin’s voice boomed loud enough to shake the crystals on the chandeliers above us. I tried to play my part, too. This wasn’t going to work if I didn’t look like the weak, human captive caught in a world of magic far beyond my understanding.

  “Ah. Brother,” Tormin crowed. All traces of the worries and anxieties he’d felt before our jump between universes was now, mercifully, gone. “I see that you’ve made yourself comfortable. And how comfortable it feels to see you sitting upon the throne. I’m surprised you’ve made your home at Castle Bloc. I would have thought you would have made your place in Mummy and Daddy’s castle on the other side of the capitol.”

  Without moving my head, I braved the first glance up from under my eyelashes that I’d allowed myself since our formal introduction. Shock gripped my body at just that first look.

  The Receiving Room had been one of the first places I’d ever gone in Castle Bloc. Queen Freia told us during orientation that she’d designed it to be the “shelter from the storm,” a place where everyone from all species, royalty and peasantry alike, could feel welcome and at home. Now…it looked more like a crypt than a homecoming. Everywhere I looked, there was darkness. Dark wood. Broken shards of dark glass. Dark stone and dark jewels and a dark throne made of some kind of material I didn’t recognize.

  But what really got me? That was King Adric, Tormin and Anatole’s brother. The new King of Velkin. The conquerer. The ruthless invader. He didn’t look anything like the portraits I’d seen of him before. He was nothing like either of his brothers had ever described. Caped the furs and feathers of fanciful creatures I’d never seen before, he was tall and impossibly slender, almost bony and withdrawn. Pale circles of deep, almost black purple painted themselves beneath his eyes, which stared out from just beneath a crown of bones.

  Were they fresh bones? Were they even real? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.

  No, on second thought…I did know. My gut told me that they were real; I just wished that they weren’t. That wasn’t the same thing as not knowing.

  “Tormin,” King Adric said, his lips curling into a cunning smile sharp enough to carve diamonds. Somehow, sharp as it was, it also reminded me of slime. Of ooze. Of the film that covers your eyes when you wake up in the middle of a nightmare. “You surprise me, speaking so freely to your king. Aren’t you going to kneel?”

  “Of course, your majesty. I beg your forgiveness,” Tormin said, dropping into a sweeping bow that ended in a kneel. With a tug on our chains, he pulled me and Kyra down with him. “I was on Earth, engaged in reconnaissance when you returned to Velkin from the Outer Wilds. I only recently learned of your ascension to the throne.”

  I waited, heart pounding, for Adric’s answer. Was he going to buy our subterfuge? Or were we all going to end this day with our heads on the spikes outside of the castle?

  Once again, I kept my head down, and tried to keep tabs on the conversation best as I could through the sounds of the men’s voices.

  “Reconnaissance on Earth? What have you learned?”

  “Everything we should know to defeat them, your majesty. I will prove invaluable in battle,” Tormin promised, his booming voice enough to make anyone confident in their futures.

  “As you always have. Rise. Come. Show me these gifts you have brought.”

  The change in Adric’s tone—from the cold, calculating slime of his greeting to this slightly warm, brittle friendliness—should have been a relief to me. It meant that he’d bought it. That I was one step closer to being reunited with Anatole, to saving our worlds. Tormin rose, and Kyra and I followed as he walked towards Adric. He retrieved a rolled-up scroll of some kind from the depths of his magic, then handed it to the man, who looked at it with barely an interest.

  “For you, I bring a map. Marked with strategic points in the barriers between our world. And for our brother…” Tormin stopped. I had realized the moment we’d walked in that Anatole was nowhere to be found. Apparently, this development was news to him. “Where is Anatole?”

  But Adric was no longer interested in conversations with his brother. Instead, he was focused, almost exclusively, on me. I didn’t even have to pick my eyes up from the hastily black-painted floor to realize that. All of his energy, all of his attention, was focused on my shoulders. It was as if his stare was a physical presence, encroaching on my personal space and my privacy.

  I suppressed a shiver.

  “And who is this exquisite creature?” Adric asked, so close to me that I could feel his breath against my cheeks.

  “She was the human who ran away from Anatole. I believed it would be a fitting punishment if she were returned to him.”

  A set of cold, spindly fingers wrapped around my chin and tugged my head up. No matter where I moved my eyes or how I struggled, there was no escaping the stinging stare of the new King. It felt as if he was looking into my soul, as if he were some kind of elvish lie-detector.

  My stomach revolted, wanting to unload the contents of my meager breakfast back up onto the floor, but I resisted, trying to keep my mind blank in case he could read thoughts.

  I’d never met a magical being who could read thoughts before, but if he was as powerful and evil as everyone said he was, then I wasn’t going to take any chances.

  “Ran away from him you say?” Adric prompted. Though he stared into me, I knew he wasn’t expecting an answer from me.

  “Yes, she rebuffed his advances and ran off back to Earth,” Tormin lied, repeating the story we’d practiced. “I thought it was wrong for a pathetic human to do something so cruel to a member of our race.”

  “Hm. Interesting.” But from the tone of Adric’s voice, I could tell he really didn’t think so. With one flick of his hand, he shoved away my head and magicked the cuffs from my wrist, sending me toppling back to the floor. “Lock her up in the dungeons. Don’t let her out.”

  …Where I was immediately set upon by two mace-wielding guards. I protested before I could stop myself, adrenaline flooding through my veins.

  “Hey—!”

  This wasn’t part of the plan. I was supposed to go to Anatole in chains, beg him to help our cause and fight for Earth and Velkin at his side. No one ever said anything about going to the dungeons, especially not in the beefy, painful grip of two guards who clearly didn’t gave a damn if they were bruising me or not.

  “Your Majesty,” Tormin protested, a note of distress in his tone. “She’s my gift to Anatole. I should be the one to give her over—”

  The green flames flickering in the torches on the walls hissed and sparked, the kind of agitation that could only come from a magic-wielder. Even though only the guards were holding me now, it felt as if the magic itself had slapped me, sent me reeling. “She’s a human. She’s our enemy. And therefore, dangerous. Anatole is in the process of becoming stronger than he’s ever been before, but he could still be weak to their spells and manipulation. She’ll be in the dungeon for the foresee
able future. And keep that thing,” Adric said, nodding in the direction of Kyra, “if you’re keeping her, confined to your quarters. That’s all she’s good for anyway.”

  For a tense, uncertain moment, I held my breath, waiting for Tormin’s answer. Slowly, his head dropped. And the hands holding me began dragging me away. Away from Tormin. Away from Krya. Away from the promise of Anatole. And away from all hope I’d had of saving our worlds.

  A pit opened up in the bottom of my stomach. Failure. I was a failure.

  As I was dragged away, I listened to the last bits of conversation, not daring to let them see me cry.

  “Yes. Yes, your majesty.”

  “Now, when you return, we’ll have a feast in your honor. Now that the three brothers are back in the seats of power in Velkin, nothing and no one can stop us.”

  Chapter Two

  Anatole

  There was a time when the darkness bothered me. When it caused me physical pain, to be submerged in such thick, consuming shadows. The return of my brother, Adric, had brought with it an evil, forbidden magic from The Outer Wilds, a magic he’d been slowly infecting me with every since. It had made him stronger. Strong enough to exile our parents and pull the entirety of Velkin under his control.

  Now, it was my turn. Now, the stings and sharp, hissing bites of the dark magic at the heart of this castle didn’t hurt me anymore. It couldn’t hurt me anymore.

  Because I was part of it. It was part of me. If I were to try and cut out the darkness, I’d probably bleed out before anyone could save me.

  That symbiotic relationship gave me a kind of numbness. An acceptance. Where Adric reveled in the wicked curse that gave him power, I only wore it like a reliable piece of armor. I allowed it to move in me and shape me, but I didn’t allow it to upset me.

  Not anymore. Not when there was no hope of me ever fighting it again.

  At first, I’d had hope. I’d believed that Carolyn would find some way to save us. That she would be the key to our salvation.