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And she checked out.

I shook my head in disgust. I couldn’t believe that she’d bail just like that. These days, even my other half wasn’t reliable.

The wind stirred in the forest. Wild magic danced, delighting in the battle that I’d fought. The predators loomed in closer, not lurking anymore. They wouldn’t hurt me, as I didn’t smell like prey.

An idea hit me.

“All yours, my kin! Feast!” I called, kicking the corpse of the Shrieker, and Underhill’s shadow beasts descended upon my offering.

I sprang toward the lake and jumped into it. The pure, icy water shot energy into me, my fatigue receding. Thoughts and plans ran wild in my mind. I needed to tip off the prince heirs, the most powerful supernaturals in the realm, and get them to patch up the Veil.

And there was another issue to worry about. America had seen the Shrieker and me, and the Shrieker had called me “princess.” Even though everyone thought I was a boy, the fae chick could still bring me trouble.

America might’ve told the authorities who ranked higher than her, someone like the princes or the headmaster or headmistress, whoever it may be. I needed to get out of Underhill soon, but my current state—bruised, wounded, my clothes shredded and ruined—would make it difficult to sneak back to my room in the vampire house. One small mercy was that the prince was away.

I dozed off in the lake until pounding lust jerked me awake.

13

My eyes flashed open. I was no longer floating on the crystal-clear lake in Underhill.

Sy had taken over, fucking, judging from the moans she made.

I peeked out of her golden eyes, still disoriented, as I took in our surroundings. The ivory tower, Skyward, shone in the moonlight in the north. It appeared that I must’ve passed out for hours in Underhill.

Panning forty-five degrees, a violet building of steel and glass that belonged to the House of Chaos stood tall. Drawing back to where we were now, Sy’s back was pressed against the wall of a lime-colored, curved brick building with a tiled roof.

I stared at the giant male whom Sy was riding.

He carried her like she weighed as much as a naked ear of corn, his large hands grabbing her butt cheeks to support her while propelling his powerful hips toward her. His hard cock filled her. His power, nearly as strong as Killian’s, was a beacon in the vast ocean of darkness.

Sy wasn’t even slightly concerned about how powerful and dangerous her random fuck buddy was. She drank it in as if she hadn’t had a good meal until now. Sy was super toned and taller than most females. She matched the male’s physique perfectly, and they both had the same type of savage beauty.

For the first time in front of a sexual partner, Sy didn’t hide her lethalness. And she was damn deadly; even her hair was a weapon. She’d once used it to wrap around a rapist’s neck and squeeze out the last inch of his life while watching with a fascinated smile.

Sex was her best energy drink, but she had boundaries—consent was one of them. She wouldn’t break that rule and wouldn’t allow her mark to break it either. And that was the main difference between sex predators and Sy.

Sy threw her head back and laughed, enjoying it too much, her clawed hands sinking into his broad shoulders, and he growled in approval. They were two peas in a pod.

She fucked him back just as fiercely, thrusting her ass toward him, riding his steel-hard length, and moaned like this was the best fuck she’d ever had.

That was a little disturbing.

As I drank in the scene, I realized that they were fucking against the wall of Clockwork, the academy’s Public Studies building. It had to be past midnight, yet a few windows still had lights on.

What the fuck, Sy? I cursed. You should know better than fucking a stranger here. You’ll endanger us!

And how had she even come across this powerful male? I felt betrayed that she’d taken over while I was napping in the lake. But then, it wasn’t the first time she’d done that.

In fact, more than a few times, I’d woken up in the middle of consuming a corpse that Sy had just slaughtered. Every time, I’d freaked out and retched while she watched me in wicked delight. She knew that I did not consume raw meat and could never get used to it. And that was her terrible sense of humor, if she had any.

It was also a power play to say “fuck you” to me now and then since despite my smaller, weaker form, I was the primary, dominant one. When it came to blows, I always won.

You know my nature. I’m a sex worker, Sy purred while not missing a beat riding that male.

Now she thought she was a sex worker?

Do you even know what a sex worker actually does? I sneered. I didn’t think she could tell the difference between a sex worker and a miracle worker.