Once Upon A Devil: A Dark Academy Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Everafter Academy Book 3)

by Scarlett Snow

  “And what should we do with this witch?” he asks in a deceptively calm voice. “This faithless wench?”

  The people are full of suggestions.

  “Burn her!”

  “Hang her!”

  “Throw her to the wolves!”

  Damien’s voice is gravelly but clear, and it cuts through the clamor: “Beat her.” He walks closer, and his eyes are narrowed to angry slits. “Beat her until her blood flows like a river.”

  The congregation sends up a jubilant cry of agreement, and I close my eyes.

  This is going to hurt.

  Cassim snakes the whip through his fingers, the specks of glass gleaming in the candlelight. The tails sparkle, too, doused in a strange substance I can’t quite fathom. Whatever it is can’t be good. Cassim sucks his lips against his teeth and nods, easing his son off the dais.

  “Tonight your blood shall flow as our sisters’ did before you. You shall be whipped until your crime is pounded from the marrow of your bones.” He cracks his wrist and the whip whistles through the air. “Our Dark Lord may have forgiven your treason, Ravyn Hemlock, but here, within my church, our coven has not.”

  I do not close my eyes when he delivers the first strike. The shards of glass slice into my breasts, instantly drawing blood, and I grip the gag with my teeth, refusing to release a single gasp of pain. If Broin was here, he’d be so proud of me. But I’m glad that he’s not. I don’t want him to witness this.

  I brace myself for the next blow, all the while looking Cassim dead in the eye. The testament of his lie shines clearly within them, but only I can see his gaze, and a scathing snarl lights up his features. There was a time when my covenmaster made me weak in the knees. He’d elicit such moans from deep within my being that no-one in The Great Forest could replicate.

  Now, he simply means business, and my body means to survive.

  He strikes in rapid succession, one where he struck moments before, and two on my stomach and thighs. By now, the pain is turning into sheer agony, and a whimper of a protest escapes my lips.

  The pain is cutting through my bones, slicing me open for every member of my coven to see. I wonder if they can see the white magic that now runs through my veins. I look down at the stripes of blood running over my body, trickling down my legs, and for a ridiculous moment, I expect to find the white magic glowing blue or something. But my blood is just like everyone else’s. Red, tainted, cursed. I’m still just a Darkblood.

  Another strike, this time catching the side of my face, and I can’t help but hiss out.

  I squeeze my eyes and pull at my chains, mostly to keep my body upright. I deserve every bit of this after what I put Red and Grandma through. Five isn’t nearly enough. There’s a grating sound on the floorboards beside me. I open my lids to see Cassim dragging a bucket underneath me. The droplets of blood that escape my body trickle into it.

  “No point in wasting good produce,” he sneers, running his fingertips along the side of my jaw, an almost tender caress.

  I tear my face from his grip, my stomach churning at his touch. He plans on drinking my blood later. I wouldn’t be surprised if he throws the bucket over me just to lick every droplet off my beaten skin.

  When Cassim next strikes, there’s a growing frenzy behind his efforts. I can see it in his eyes, growing darker with each blow. Five turns into eight, twelve, fifteen, and I’m barely able to keep track. I think I hear people beg Cassim to stop, but he doesn’t. There’s a lust for blood consuming him now that I’ve only ever seen with his prey. I’m no longer part of his coven but a parasite. I’m a creature he intends to flog until I’m nothing but particles of dust and blood lingering in the air. It suddenly occurs to me that he’s not punishing me because I abandoned our Dark Lord.

  It’s because I rejected him.

  Once, when I left our coven, and again during the Festival of Light.

  His anger isn’t on behalf of our coven. That’s just a cover-up. It’s stemming from deep within him and transmitting through the tails of his whip, merging with my blood as I stand flayed against this frame, barely able to stand, let alone breathe. There is nothing in Lucifer’s teachings that calls for this. Cassim is acting purely of his own accord. I know that I could fight him. I could use what little strength I have left to protect myself. But as I close my eyes and succumb to the torture, my body slouching, my eyes dipping shut, I see Redera being dragged behind a horse and Grandma hanging from the tree. I need to repent for the agony I caused them, and maybe this is the only way. Maybe this really is my just desserts.

  Sunlight bleeds into the church, assaulting the back of my lids. A whoosh of air sails over my head and talons digs into my shoulder. I open my eyes, vaguely able to see what’s going on.

  —Broin, is that…you?—

  A bolt of emerald magic spirals into the air. It crashes down right beside me, leaving a gigantic hole in the middle of the dais that separates me from Cassim. Redera surfaces from the cloud of smoke, her crimson eyes burning like the depths of hell itself.

  “Let. My. Sister. Go!”

  Many times, I have wished to be the one to kill Cassim Salvador. I have been flayed by his hand, in this very church, simply for existing, and I have longed to return the favour. But never have I wanted to bathe in his blood as deeply as I do right now. Watching him whip my girl like a slaughterhouse beast is a fate worse than death. Just by luck Redera rode in on her white stallion when she did. I’m quite certain my talons would be buried in Cassim’s eye sockets, and that would’ve merely worsened the situation for all of us.

  I fly down onto Ravyn’s shoulder and listen for her breathing. She’s unconscious and her breaths are shallow. Unlike the Darkbloods in here, I can see what Cassim used to whip her with. Silveryn. I haven’t seen this kind of sorcery since I fought in the Silva War. It’s a deadly combination of dark and light magic that was long ago forbidden by both the High Council and Maleficis Invictus. It takes tremendous power to wield magic like this, which is why both sides forbade it.

  I’m not surprised to discover that Cassim now wields it. On the plus side, it’ll make it all that much easier to hold him accountable for his actions after tonight. But first I need to get my girl to safety.

  Redera’s appearance has put the congregation into a state of confusion, and the place erupts into shouts of horrified disbelief.

  “She isn’t dead!” one man cries.

  Cassim stares at Redera and then at Ravyn, his eyes bulging in their sockets. “This cannot be!”

  “I’m alive and you’re punishing her for nothing.”

  For a moment, I think he’s going to strike Big Red with the whip, but he just stands there, nearly vibrating in his fury. “And Elnora?”

  “Alive,” Redera tells him. “And you would have known this had you consulted our Dark Lord before taking his justice into your own hands.”

  “Consulted? How dare you question my leadership in my own church?” Cassim spits at her, turning to face the entire coven. “A mere witch, risen from the dead, stands before me now to question that which I have done for her!”

  I squawk at Redera—We don’t have time for his mind games! Ravyn must be healed. Now!—

  —Take her to the cabin,—she replies, her gaze still latched on Cassim as they stare each other down.—I’ll finish up here. Come get me when you’re ready. Go!—

  This is a new side to Redera that takes me by surprise. Gone is the shy, timid girl I once knew. Now she’s as brave and stubborn as her twin sister.

  I glance up at the window and catch sight of the last ray of sunlight dipping behind the horizon. It bleeds through the stained glass and onto the floor. As it touches my feathers, I transform into my male form and untie Ravyn from the whipping post. Her body falls and her head lolls back. She’s more than just unconscious from the pain. She’s being possessed.

  “What have you done?” I snarl at Cassim. The lacerations hacked into my girl’s body are turning a dark shade of blue. I wrap her in m
y cloak and pull her close.

  “I punished her as I saw fit,” he answers, glaring down his nose at me like I’m nothing but the piece of shit he’s always considered me. “Think very carefully about your next move here, Blackstone. With so many witnesses, not even a resurrected Elnora will save you from the wrath of Maleficis. Go on now. That’s it. Run away and leave the wench’s body.”

  He’s mocking me for cowardice. He knows nothing about me, or that there is no pain I wouldn’t endure for my girl. I straighten off the dais, and holding Ravyn in my arms, translocate from the Church of Shadows before my fury gets the better of me. Too much blood has been spilled here already. As much as I want to squeeze every last droplet out from Cassim’s body, I will not rise to the bait. Not until I know Ravyn is safe and healed.

  I take Ravyn to the stable by the guard house. Mephisto stomps one mighty hoof when I appear, and the snort he gives is indignant and frightened. He can smell not only her blood, but also the silveryn that has been used to poison Ravyn’s wounds. I’m grateful that he’s no ordinary horse, and that I can trust him not to run from the scent.

  He lets me put Ravyn on his back, and then I mount up behind her, holding her in my arms. He’s already trotting before I pick up the reins, heading in the direction of my cabin. He knows where I want to go, and where we need to be.

  As we ride, I hold my girl to my chest, monitoring her. Her eyelids are fluttering as if she’s caught in dreams, and her face is pale as wax. Her breathing has a troubling wheezing edge, and I wrap my cloak more tightly around her battered body. She moans painfully in response, and the sound breaks my heart. She is suffering.

  I nudge Mephisto in the flanks with my heels, and he leaps forward into a canter. He would gallop if the path were clearer, I know, but someone has covered the way with evergreen boughs, obscuring the way and making the footing treacherous. Salvador knew I would take her this way. He planned for everything.

  When this is over, I will dance in his blood.

  Mephisto takes us right up to my cabin door, and I carry Ravyn inside. She’s become feverish, and her breathing sounds even more labored. I put her on the bed and pull the cloak away so I can clean her wounds. Each rip in her skin is puffy and dark blue, bruised and throbbing with hurtful magic. I put one hand on her forehead and the other above her heart and close my eyes to focus so I can cast the strongest healing spell I know. The magic pours out of me, leaving me gasping, and I open my eyes again.

  Nothing has happened. The spell failed.

  “No,” I whisper, confounded and afraid for her. “No, no, no.”

  I run through my entire repertoire of healing spells. I even try spells to neutralize poison. Nothing has any effect, and if anything, Ravyn is worse than before. She’s writhing and shaking now, and the wounds are more black than blue.

  I’m losing her.

  Fuck!

  With tears in my eyes, I cover her trembling body, hoping to at least keep her from getting chilled. Her fever is getting worse. It’s unbearable to know that I can’t help her.

  I go to stoke the fire to keep her warm, but I need more firewood. I’ve been away for so long that I haven’t kept my supplies up. Cursing myself and my inability to help my girl, I storm outside to get more wood. I split two logs and set up the third when I hear something slithering through the grass. I turn around, the axe in my hand, ready to defend myself if need be. This is the absolute last thing I need tonight.

  A monstrous snake crawls out from the underbrush, its amber eyes fixed on my face. Its forked tongue flickers out at me and with one effortless twist of its body, it transforms into the beautiful, half-witch, half-serpentine creature I know to be Eden.

  Cassim Salvador’s slave.

  “Professor Ede—”

  “I do not have much time,” she interjects, her emerald cloak flapping behind her as she hurries over to me. “How is she?”

  I grind my teeth together. “Alive, just like her sister and grandmother.”

  Eden nods, flicking her eyes to the cabin beyond and back at me. “His Excellency has called for an emergency meeting at Maleficis Invictus. He shan’t return for a few days. I wished to give this to you.” Retrieving a small potion from her pocket, she says, “Nothing can can fully heal silveryn, but this may ease the pain.”

  I take the potion from her and nod my thanks. “What he did to her was nothing but sheer torture.”

  Eden glances at the earth, nodding. “My master is not the same person he used to be, Blackstone.” When she lifts her gaze, I find tears in her amber eyes. “I fear the worse for our clan. I fear the sickness in his mind will only spread into others the more he…”

  She trails off and looks over her shoulder, momentarily alarmed.

  “The more he what?” I probe her, eager to get back to Ravyn but also to hear the end of this.

  Eden smoothes a pale hand down her cloak and shakes her head. “I simply wanted to deliver this potion before he suspects where I’ve gone.Administer it as soon as you can. Once her fever has broken, the wounds will start to heal, but it’s a long process.”

  “That’s if the fever breaks,” I growl at her, clenching the potion. “And what happens afterward with Maleficis? She’s been through enough. The Hemlocks survived. Maleficis can punish me if they must.”

  “I can tarry no longer, and there is much I cannot say.” She takes a step backward. “Take care of her.”

  With another twist of her body, she’s a snake once more, returning to the forest like a distant memory. I abandon the firewood and immediately rush to Ravyn’s side.

  My poor girl is drenched in sweat, her fever spiking. The wounds are livid and festering, and I waste no time applying the potion to her broken skin. I use the entire vial and wait, breathlessly watching to see if this will finally help. I know that Eden is preternaturally gifted with poisons and the potions that cure them, but I don’t know how much she, or anyone else, really knows about silveryn.

  It’s agonizing. I pace beside the bed, watching her as she fights to stay alive. It takes forever, but her fever finally begins to abate, and when it’s gone, she falls into a deep, trance-like sleep.

  I sit beside her on the bed and kiss her gently on the forehead. She’s caught in sleep so deeply that she doesn’t respond.

  —I would give anything to see you open your eyes,—I think to her.

  There is no answer, and I’m certain she didn’t hear me.

  Outside, I hear something approaching the cabin. It’s paw pads striking fallen leaves, and the whuffling sound of a sniffing nose.

  Fucking wolves. Not now.

  I grab my dagger and open the door slowly, peeking outside. Three of the Penny Royal wolves are poking around in the grass, sniffing all the places where Eden had been. They must be tracking her. She’s a rare creature, the only one of her kind, and she would make quite a trophy for their miserable, flea-bitten pack, and it doesn’t matter to their Alpha if she’s dead or alive.

  It matters to me.

  I don’t want to leave Ravyn’s side, but these wolves have to be sent packing. They can’t find my girl in her weakened state, and they can’t find Eden when she’s the only one who helped us. In my helplessness and rage, I blame the Penny Royal pack directly for all of the pain that’s been suffered today, even though it was Rosso Lupa who did the deed.

  A wolf is a wolf, and they all die the same.

  I take one look back at the cabin and hope that Eden is right, and that my Little Red will start healing now that her fever has broken. She said it would take a lot of time; I think I’ll fill that time by hunting wolves.

  I shift into my raven form and fly into the trees, watching them. They pick up Eden’s scent and start to follow it away from the cabin, which is fine by me. I don’t want them here, even if they can’t see the cabin with Lucifer’s protections. The three wolves trot along the trail, a single-file line with a lot of space between them. The lead wolf is the one who caught the scent; the other two seem cl
ueless and are just following where he leads. I know who my first target is.

  I fly down the track, waiting until the lead wolf is out of the line of sight of his fellows. As soon as he turns down a switch-back in the path that Eden took, I swoop down and sink my talons into his eyes, shifting into my man form almost immediately. He yelps, but I silence him quickly, snapping his miserable neck. He drops into a furry heap, and I cover him with fallen branches just as the other two round the bend, moving at speed to come to their comrade’s aid.

  I step out onto the path, and they stop short, their lips pulling back from their fangs. They growl, and one of them lunges at me.

  That was his last mistake.

  I am a veteran of the Silva Wars. I can fight with steel and spell at the same time, as these fucking wolves now learn first hand. I stab one with my dagger and cast a spell of withering on the other. He falls onto his side, wailing in pain. The one I stabbed leaps at me, blood trickling from his jaws, and he tries to bite me. His teeth grab my forearm, but I shake him off with another spell, one that leaves him covered with painful sores and blisters. He falls onto his side and lies there, whimpering.

  A dagger through the ribs ends his suffering.

  I grab the remaining wolf, the one who’s slowly withering to death, and slit his throat, letting the gore splash over my hand and onto the ground. I’m tempted to offer his soul to Our Unholy Lord, but I know better. Sacrificing wolves tends to cause more trouble than it’s worth.

  I stand over my fallen enemy, panting. The spells I cast used a huge amount of my energy, and I need a moment to catch my breath and stop my head from spinning.

  As soon as I’m back to myself, I go back into raven form and return to the cabin, praying that when I arrive, she’ll be better.