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
