Chased by Darkness: A Reverse Harem Academy Romance: (Four Kings Academy Book 1)

by Taylor Spratt

  Making my way as my own teacher. The world my classroom, that’s how people were meant to learn. Not like this, caged and forced to bend over backward for someone else’s approval.

  “I don’t wanna be here!” I yelled, and the enforcer grabbed me by the arm and pulled my face into his.

  Sweat slid down his miserable face and his greasy blonde hair lay soggy over the roughness of his blocky forehead.

  “Look, you little bitch! You’re only my problem for the next two minutes. After I drop you off, you do whatever the hell you want.”

  “I’ve changed my mind! I don’t wanna go!” I clawed at his fingers, trying to pry them off my arm, and his grip tightened.

  “You’re going whether you like it or not.” Pulling me by the arm, he heaved me through the gate toward a massive building.

  I jerked away in vain and stumbled over every rock on the cut stone walkway.

  It was hopeless, everything was hopeless. I might as well save my energy. My shoulders sank as we walked through delicately pruned hedges. Each one bearing the face of a famous wizard or witch.

  There was Heronitus the Great. Great philanderer, I’d say. Gretta the Phony Seer, and even Yanning Greenwich the 26th,. He was a famous scholar of Magical history and a known necrophiliac. He’s rumored to have killed almost thirty women to satisfy his sick and twisted desires. Why in the world would they honor a man like him?

  They all stared down at me with harsh disapproval in their eyes.

  Wow, even magical’s like them shun me?

  Gangs of students leered at me as I passed. The enforcer dragging me along didn’t make for a great first impression, I guessed.

  A sign that read Chancellor’s Office came into view. Behind it stood a building with dark shingle roofing supported by intimidatingly tall black columns. There was an expansive veranda awash with students. Their chatter came to a screeching halt the moment their eyes landed on me. The girls turned up their noses as if they’d smelled something foul and the guys added their own malicious glances, their silence deafening.

  Yup, this was the warm welcome every girl dreamed of on her first day of school.

  I’d almost forgotten how much it bothered me to be stared at like this. But at least no one was throwing rocks. Definitely an improvement over the last time I’d been around other witches.

  When we stepped through the door and entered the building, my eyes burned, struggling to adjust to the intense lighting.

  Wow. The furniture and the color scheme were beautiful. The couches were a soft green, walls a soothing beige, and the hardwood floors shiny and inviting. Fluffy rainbow-colored pillows lined the walls, all leading up to a dazzling crystal counter.

  There wasn’t a dark or dreary thing about this room. This couldn’t really be the principal’s office, could it?

  A beautiful business suit clad brunette with bright red lipstick popped up from behind the counter. Her bright smile warmed me from the inside out. The enforcer must have liked her too, because for the first time since he’d grabbed my arm, I could feel my fingers.

  “Here she is,” he declared, shoving me toward her, and I glared at him. She raised an eyebrow considering me, then her shoulders jumped and her eyes grew wide.

  “That’s right! It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Kolgrim,” she said. “The Chancellor will see you now.” She gestured for us to follow her and the enforcer tugged me in her direction, his calloused hand sinking into my arm with bionic strength.

  “Ow! Do you see me running anywhere? Moron,” I said, and he turned to me, his grimaced and his lips tightened.

  “Soon not my problem. Soon not my problem,” he muttered, rolling his eyes.

  We stood outside a tall redwood door and she gave it a quick knock.

  “Y-y-y-you may come in,” a timid voice stammered from inside, and the lady pushed it open. A wide black desk took up half the room, and a balding, middle-aged wizard sat behind it.

  His glasses were almost as thick as his belly, and he gave me a nervous smile. The man stood, not gaining a single inch, and stumbled over to me, shaking my hand.

  This was the principal? He was who I had to answer to? My disciplinarian? I stifled a laugh. This was going to be cake.

  “G-g-good morning, Miss Kolgrim,” he said, pulling his hand from mine. My palm came away soggy, clammy, and icky. What the hell?

  “Um, Good morning to you too… sir,” I said, wiping my hand on my skirt.

  “My name is Chancellor Biggsby, w-w-welcome to Ravenwell Academy.” He gave a slight nod before he continued. “Now, I know there’s been some trouble in your past. But every student who attends this school leaves not only well-rounded but also a well-adjusted adult. So, we have very high hopes for you here.” He smiled and handed me a bag filled with papers, tattered old books, toiletries, and even, yes! Snacks!

  I pulled the schedule from the bag and gazed down at it. This was all so normal, maybe this wouldn’t as bad as I thought, maybe I’d actually come to like this place. I’d just have to take a few boring classes then I’d get back to my carefree life in no time.

  A cold shiver ran down my spine. From the corner of my eye I glimpsed a dark figure leering at me from where the chancellor should be. It was a foot taller than the chancellor, with piercing red eyes boring into me.

  With my heart racing, I turned to face it. What the? It was just the Chancellor, as squat and nonthreatening as he’d been a minute ago. Was I hallucinating or was this a spell of some kind?

  The chancellor smiled at me but all I could see was the red-eyed monster. Whatever he was, it was dangerous and hungry, very hungry.

  I swallowed hard, and he handed me a room key. I held on to it but he didn’t let go, his eyes fixed on me. He paused for a second, as if pondering something, and in a voice at least three octaves lower than it had been before he said, “So, the students here can play a bit rough at times. Be careful, will you? We don’t want you getting hurt, now do we?” His mouth curled up into a wicked grin so tight, you’d think his cheeks would crack.

  “Um, um. Thank you, sir,” I said, with a nervous smile.

  Okay, now I really need to get out of here.

  He told me to head straight to the orientation hall and I was more than happy to finally get out of that office and shake that damn enforcer off.

  But the moment the orientation hall came into view, I wished I still had the redhead tied to my hip. Because I now knew exactly what he meant by hazing squad. I’d just walked into a war zone.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Aria

  The orientation hall was a massive, white dome-like building that shimmered under the midday sun. A line of students stretched down for what seemed like forever from an entrance to the side, that one line the only beacon of order in a sea of freaking’ chaos.

  The surrounding gardens were a cesspool of fighting and screaming.

  Punching and kicking I’d understand, but these people had swords, scythes, and were even throwing kunai at each other. Had they all gone insane?

  A pair of rough hands shoved me into the line.

  “Hey! Watch it!” I yelled, looking back to see a 6-foot-tall guy with a paddle on his shoulder.

  “Stay in line, freshmen!” He barked, a look of disdain shrouding his face. He turned to trail away toward a group of other students and when their eyes zeroed on him, their jaws dropped, and they scattered in the opposite direction.

  What in the hundred hells was going on here?

  “Please stop!” A voice echoed from behind, and I spun my head to see a gang of maybe about three or four girls tackle a younger girl to the ground with a booming thud.

  That had to hurt.

  “Stop!” She begged as the gang threw her over their shoulders to carry her kicking and screaming over to the hall’s white wall. They smacked her against the hard surface and she squealed in pain.

  How could they turn on their own classmate like that? It just wasn’t right.

  The poor girl str
uggled like her life depended on it as the gang swarmed her, their bodies intertwining like a den of snakes. You couldn’t tell predator from prey if it weren’t for the difference in armband color.

  Terrible, simply terrible. Couldn’t they see the look of absolute horror on the poor girl’s face? The tallest of the bullies grabbed her by the neck and savagely yanked the blue ribbon right off her arm.

  My heart raced as one of the bullies started pushing the poor girl’s face into the wall, her cheek crushing against the surface.

  “Please, stop! I’m claustrophobic!” She cried.

  With a wave of her wand, the tallest bully phased the girl’s entire head into the thick, concrete wall, stifling her wailing. Her arms thrashed desperately, trying to pull her head out and breathe. The gang of girls only stood there laughing. Laughing at her pain.

  How cruel. Wasn’t anybody going to help her? The air left my chest leaving a numb hollowness behind; all I could see were my orbs plunging deep into those bullies’ faces, see how they like being tortured.

  My fists clenched so hard it burned. That’s it. I can’t watch this anymore!

  I jumped out of the line, marching toward them, and out of nowhere a stiff arm wrapped around my neck from behind, pulling me right back in to formation.

  “Looking to die so soon, love?” The person behind me in the line said in a flowery British accent. “They’re only trying to scare her, it’s unlikely they’ll actually kill the girl. But, if you interfere, I can’t say the same for you. One must never join a faction fight, at least until you’re in a faction yourself.”

  I swallowed hard. Die?

  I tugged the arm off and turned around.

  Wow… she was gorgeous. My apparent savior was a girl with cascading fiery red hair and piercing green eyes that almost seemed neon, sparkling brighter than the midday sun. Her cheekbones went on for days and she had the fullest most perfect crimson lips I’d ever laid eyes on.

  “Love, you can’t help that girl. You can’t help any of them,” she said, her expression warm yet grim.

  She raised an arm, gesturing at the pandemonium in the garden. My God, there was a guy, buried up to his neck in dirt, his eyes bloodshot darting frantically at the gang of guys around him.

  His mouth flapped open, saying something, no, begging for something. His grief-stricken pleas met by evil grins from the blue-ribboned gang. Oh God, I can’t watch. So why couldn’t I look away?

  I kept my eyes burningly open, not even squinting for a blink as the gang encircled the poor guy.

  One bully slid a long grey wand from his back pocket and flicked it twice over the buried guy’s head.

  Plop! Out from the tip popped a giant python head, its jaw snapping open and shut ferociously

  My arms ached; I could almost feel the pain those sharp, thick teeth would bring him.

  The thick yellow python slithered down from the tip, toward buried guy’s face, hunger in its eyes. Tears streamed down his cheeks mixing with the rivers of sweat that ran down his face and neck.

  The python was inches from his face, and the guy’s brows knitted and all tears vanished as if stolen by the sun.

  He no longer looked afraid, now he was just mad, mad as hell. Buried guy gave it to the bullies, with a string of insults ranging from whose mother was a whore to which of them had rod rot.

  You tell them, buried guy! Yes, that’s it, never back down, unless… uh-oh.

  The gang’s smiles melted to deep frowns. Their jaws clenched in rage and all five bullies marched toward buried guy and started kicking him square in the face.

  Thud. One foot after the other launched at his face, beating him to a pulp.

  My hand cupped my mouth. I couldn’t find the words. Is this what things have come to? This savagery?

  “Ew! His blood’s on my shoe!” One of them said as the five of them turned to walk away from buried guy, his face now dirtier and bumpier than the ground itself. Of course, they didn’t leave him empty-handed, dropping the python a foot from buried guy.

  Just when I thought the drama was over a broom came whooshing by, inches from my face, thrusting me and several others in the line to the floor.

  Ripping through the air, the broom zoomed about fifty feet in an instant and whipped through the sky like an angry bull ride from hell.

  Why the hell wasn’t the rider controlling that crazy thing? My shoulders fell. Oh no, that’s why.

  There was no one on it, just one poor soul with his ankles tied to the end of the broom and a dirty old burlap sack over his head. He gave it his all, wiggling, thrashing, trying to break free of his impossibly thick ropey shackles, but what was the use?

  There was a hollowness in my chest where my heart used to be. This level of bullying was inhumane.

  He wasn’t even a Void User. What would they do to me if they found out what I was? Not if. When?

  Coming here was pointless.

  Broom guy’s screams filled the air as the broom’s whipping intensified.

  “Don’t be so boring, Francis!” A guy shouted at the sky, from the garden. “At least try to take control. You’re a man, aren’t you?”

  Six red ribboned students lounged on a picnic blanket, pointing and laughing with glee at broom guy from a shady spot in the garden.

  Popcorn? They are actually eating popcorn. Those jerks. Did they put him up there?

  Dozens of onlookers gathered in the garden watching the sky show, laughing at every twist and turn of aerial acrobatics. How could they all enjoy themselves like that at someone’s suffering?

  These students weren’t magicals at all, they were demons, straight from the fires of hell.

  My fists tightened and my every muscle stiffened.

  As if sensing my unease, the British girl cradled her arms gently around me.

  “Don’t be afraid, love,” she said, “You’re not on the field. You’re over here.”

  Her voice kind and compassionate, I turned and faced her, tears spilling down my cheeks.

  “Why are they doing this?” I cried.

  “The winning side gets more converts.” She shrugged.

  “Converts?”

  She raised a brow and rubbed her dainty chin. “Love, haven’t you noticed the red and blue ribbons the students wear?” She asked, “It’s a sign of fealty. The red are Flamenados and the blue, Floodquakes.”

  Flamenados, Floodquakes? What are these, some type of clubs?

  “Look!” She whispered, pointing to the left. “The Flamenado Kings are coming this way.”

  A set of blonde twins came striding across the garden, their towering forms eclipsing the sun. Yet somehow, the shadows of chaos and discord turned tail and ran the moment they arrived.

  Oh, my. Damn! Damn! Damn! I can’t breathe. I couldn’t hear or even smell either. All my brainpower rerouted to my bulging eyes. My lips curled up in a smile, and my heart raced.

  The threads of their vests strained to contain the girth of their powerful, heavily muscled arms and chests. They must have been at least 6’5, maybe more, with shoulders so broad you could land a plane on them. Their jaws so squared, their cheek bones sharp and divine.

  It should be illegal for men to have lips that pink and luscious. My God, I’d give almost anything to feel them against mine.

  One of them beamed flawless white teeth exposing adorable dimples that sucked my heart in, promising never to let go. His long blonde hair swept gracefully over his shoulders, bouncing as he went. Was he an angel? No, he had to be a god.

  The other twin scowled like a savage beast. The thin scars on his beautiful face now clearly visible. His blond hair shorter and spiked up in a bit of a mess. His eyes were like two blue flames, wild and inescapable.

  I gave a deep inhale willing their scents to traverse the air between us and burrow into my body to satisfy this terrible hunger.

  Pause. What in the world am I doing? I smacked myself in the face.

  One minute I was wallowing in despair and the next mi
nute I was ogling some oversized twin kings? Okay, Aria. Get it together!

  I hadn’t noticed it before, but the minute they strolled into the garden, the chaos of minutes earlier froze in time.

  The gang of girls heaved the younger one’s head from out the wall. The trembling girl’s eyes trailed the kings, and she bit her lip, cutting off her own cries, as if desperate not to offend the kings.

  Even buried guy stopped shouting for help. He just stayed there, silent as a mouse, his face white as paper as the massive python encircled his head snapping its jaw.

  Only the soaring broom refused to show the Kings respect.

  Still? The poor guy was still up there whipping through the air?

  I gasped when — Crack! A breaking sound rang out, echoing through the air.

  A football-sized fireball went crashing right through the handle. My eyes darted in every direction, landing on the angry twin whose hand was engulfed in ferocious flames. That monster, what’d he do that for?

  A high-pitched scream filled the garden as broom guy rushed to the ground, like a bullet tearing through the clouds. My heart sank imagining the inevitable splat.

  That guy was a king? Why the hell would he go and do something like that?

  “Someone! Please help him!” I cried as everyone around, with mouths ajar, merely watched him fall like an episode of Rena’s highflying adventure.

  All the while he tore downward blindly, kicking and screaming, his hands desperately grabbing for something that didn’t exist. A knot formed in my throat and my nails dug deep into my arm. Thirty feet. Twenty feet. Ten.

  Please no, please no, this can’t be happening.

  He was inches from the ground and out of nowhere, the smiling twin flicked his wrist and a mini cyclone exploded out of his fingers and spiraled over the grass, stopping right under broom guy. The winds caught him like a safety net and gently plopped him onto the grass.

  I exhaled, my back slumping. I don’t believe it.