The class fell silent as Respa glided to the front of the room with an air of authority. Half of the class was still absent, and dark magic was the topic circulating right now. Respa wasted no time delving into the subject, and I respected that.
"Today, we need to discuss dark magic." Respa's voice was firm, carrying a tone of warning. "This is not a common topic of study for this class or demons in general, but it’s necessary right now. Dark magic is evil. No supernatural being has ever survived being infected with it. Not without it being pulled out of their body at the early stages. It rots you from the inside out until that magic is the only thing keeping you alive.”
She described the physical signs of a dark magic infection the same way I remembered it explained in an old text I’d read, painting a grim picture of a sickly gray complexion, sunken eyes with black bags, and pulsating black veins visible beneath the skin.
Reed’s hand carefully moved on top of mine on top of my desk, and I laced my fingers through his and squeezed.
I never thought physical touch could be so reassuring and comforting, but it was. It made me wonder what I missed out on. Mother never touched me unless it was to cause harm; even then, she always used her shadows. I didn’t remember a time she actually touched me with her hands.
“The most famous dark magic case happened during Kalista’s Second War. The dark magic took form inside of an arctic wolf shifter after his rejected mate, an arctic fox, wanted to destroy the bond, so a witch helped her perform a dark magic ritual,” she explained, but I already knew about that case because of my love for the romance novel written after the war depicting it.
The author was one of Wren’s mates, after all.
“Aren’t you talking about that love story, Fate Hollow Academy?” a student asked, mirth in their voice.
“Yeah, the main character had seven mates,” someone gushed. “All fated!That lucky fox.I want seven mates to fawn over me!”
The class dissolved into laughter before Respa rolled her eyes. “There happens to be a lot of historical truth to that book. Not one event is fiction, and we know the romance because of theauthor—Rhett Everhart. He’s the main character, Wren Clearwater’s, mate.”
Rhett was an incubus, and he actually used to be the incubus representative on the Demon Council before a scandal made his father take over. I wasn’t sure when his father had stepped down, but I knew he had since Craven had the position now.
I’d become entranced by their story when I was bound in the cellar from the first moment I’d read it. Not only was it my first book that told a story about romance and adventure but their love for each other kept me wishing for my own fated mate or mates. It was a fantasy I allowed myself to hold on to.
“How did they fight the dark magic?” someone asked. “I haven’t read it.”
Respa winced, but she held a passion in her eyes as she spoke about the history of the war, specifically the role dark magic played in it. “They tried to fight it, but Wren Clearwater ended up infected by her rejected mate’s dark magic. She and her mates had to replace the rejected bond to expel the dark magic from the wolf. There are theories that the wolf shifter would’ve died soon anyway. He was a key player in the war, and they needed to get the dark magic out of Wren for the war, though.”
“What’s all of that mean for us?” another demon in the front asked in a wobbly tone.
"Dark magic is quite frankly terrifying," Respa emphasized. "It defies all of the laws of magic. The Demon Council is actively working to make sure no more dark magic circles are created on campus and in the Demon Capital."
She spent the rest of class answering questions before an alert notification popped up on our tablets, letting us know that all classes were dismissed today and tomorrow.
Respa gave us another stern warning to stay vigilant with the new spread of dark magic before letting us go.
Reed squeezed my hand again, but my head was filled with theories of dark magic and my mother. A sinking pit formed in my gut as I realized we hadn’t even finished the first week of classes before something had gone wrong. I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was a bad omen.
18
HUNTER
The scorching sun beat down on me as I strode out of Reform Hall and toward Cryptic Altar again, leaving Pandora in her Demonic Basics class.
Shadowheart and Grimshaw glared at me as I passed, and I briefly wondered why they hadn’t stirred up drama with Pandora as we’d walked by. Their gazes were all over her, but I was thankful nonetheless that they hadn’t said anything. I would’ve had to seek vengeance by gutting them if they had. It wouldn’t have killed them, but it would’ve hurt like a bitch. Then vengeance would’ve been served nicely.
The arid air thrummed with the residue of dark magic, and my gut churned as I wondered what dark ritual could’ve violated this sacred space. The bloodied circle poured into the sandwas a sigil of dark magic, and it stood out against the muted color of the grains. The council had successfully rid the immediate area of students, and I was thankful for that.
The assembled representatives of the Demon Council were myself, Blackthistle, Death, and Joel. The rest of the representatives were busy with other dark magic investigations around the Demon Capital. Dark magic was becoming a plague faster than I had expected.
I stopped in front of the altar, and the hair on the back of my neck stood from being so close to dark magic. Surveying the scene, the metallic tang of blood and smoldering remnants of dark magic hung in the air. As my gaze traced the intricate patterns of the circle, I couldn’t help but agree with what Pandora had said. This did look like the makings of a demonic curse, specifically a shadow ritual that had familiarities of a dark ritual embedded in it.
“This really does look like a shadow ritual,” I muttered; the other three glanced at me.
Blackthistle stood hunched over on the other side of the altar, his form casting shadows over the dark magic circle spilled across the sand floor. His salt and pepper brown hair, tousled and unkempt, framed his blank face while his piercing green eyes slid over to me.
There was something undeniably unsettlingabout the headmaster and Chaos representative, Coin Blackthistle. I figured it was because he was a chaos demon, but a black aura clung to him like a shroud of malevolence.
“A shadow ritual?” He straightened, a slow, sardonic smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “This has dark ritual written all over it.”
