Page 18 of Immortal Consequences (The Souls of Blackwood Academy #1)

Irene

Irene cracked her knuckles and readied her stance, bouncing from one foot to the other.

The eastern arched window bathed the wooden walls of the classroom in streams of iridescent light, like swirling colors in a pool of oil.

The voices around her faded into a low murmur as the class leaned in intently, bracing themselves for what they knew would be a merciless fight.

And they were right—Irene never held back.

Subtlety wasn’t exactly her style.

“Are we ready?” Housemaster Russo stood between Irene and her opponent—a tall boy with wavy brown hair and what Irene had deemed to be an extremely punchable face.

Since the moment Russo called out their names, solidifying them as competitors, an indifferent look had filled his serpentine eyes, as though the whole thing was beneath him.

Even now, as they prepared to begin the duel, he took the time to waggle his brows suggestively toward his friends, clearly mocking all of the formalities.

Irene smiled. “Oh, I’m ready.”

The boy chuckled, whispering something that Irene could only assume was at her expense.

Russo sighed, exasperated. “Hexley. You know the rules. I need verbal confirmation from both participants.”

The boy—Hexley—rolled his eyes. “Yes. Fine. I’m ready.”

There was nothing Irene loved more than her corporeal class.

It was the perfect excuse to revel in the damage she was desperate to inflict.

But she held a special place in her heart for duel days.

It allowed her to focus all of that anger toward one single source.

To transform all of that bottled-up frustration and resentment into pure, unadulterated rage.

The fact that her opponent was a boy in desperate need of getting his ass beat was only the cherry on top.

Russo nodded and stepped away from them, retreating toward the edge of the classroom.

She raised her hands, and the air sizzled with anticipation.

“Begin.”

Irene jumped to the left just as Hexley’s first spell came hurtling toward her, splinters of silver magic crashing against the wall behind her.

The crowd of students gasped, flinching as a bookshelf toppled to the floor.

Before Irene could even respond, he had sent another three basic corporeal attacks in her direction—all of which she was able to dodge without breaking a sweat, nimbly jumping out of the way at the last second.

Christ. Was he even aiming?

Irene summoned the magic into her veins, savoring the icy breath filling her lungs, the surge of power trickling through her limbs.

She couldn’t even worry about the exhaustion that was surely waiting for her at the end—not when the momentary rush felt this good.

Silver beads of light sparked in her palms like miniature bolts of lightning.

She waited for the perfect moment, stepping to the right.

She could tell by the awkwardness in Hexley’s step as he angled his body toward her that it was his weakside.

Perfect.

She threw the spell and it landed squarely on his shoulder.

Hexley stumbled backward, a large gash splitting across his shoulder and toward his collarbone. He glanced down, a moment of disbelief spreading over his face, before his eyes snapped back toward her in disgust.

“You bitch. ”

Irene couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Hexley hissed.

“You boys are all the same. So easy to read. So predictable.” Irene smirked, stretching out her arm to the right, fingertips vibrating. “There’s no strategy. No patience. You’re all blunt force and desperation.”

“What is this?” He summoned another crackle of magic into his palm. “A lecture?”

“Nope.” Irene curled her fingers, and the window to the right of her shattered. The glass exploded into jagged shards, but they didn’t fall. They simply floated, waiting for Irene’s command. “A distraction.”

Hexley had barely opened his mouth half an inch to retort when the shards of glass went flying in his direction, piercing his body like a tidal wave of bullets.

He went flying backward, landing on the floor with a sickening thud.

Blood instantly began to pool beneath his body, staining the floorboards an unforgiving shade of scarlet.

Despite their numbed pain receptors and regenerative abilities, the bodies of Blackwood students still reacted like their mortal forms used to.

If wounded, their bodies would bleed and tear and break.

It was their soul echoing what it had known in life.

A small glimpse of the humanity that lingered.

The entire class gasped, rushing over to examine the aftermath.

Russo glanced down at Hexley’s unmoving body.

She waved a hand over his face, and when he didn’t respond, she let out a sigh and lifted her eyes toward Irene.

“A very smart play, but perhaps next time you could refrain from such… extreme tactics. With these kinds of wounds, Hexley here isn’t waking for at least a month. ”

Irene bowed. “You’re welcome.”

She knew what would happen next. His body would be carried out by a group of Ascended and carted off to the infirmary.

The other students would whisper about how horrible and cruel she was.

About how she should have taken it easy on him.

But Irene had stopped caring what others thought about her long ago.

Uninterested in watching the scene unfold, Irene stormed out of the classroom, throwing the doors open with a flick of her wrist.

But just as she stepped into the corridor, a boy came hurtling from the other direction and collided with her.

“Dammit,” she muttered under her breath. “Watch where you’re going.”

He looked up at her. Dark blond hair framed an angular face with a prominent nose and hollow cheekbones. His eyes, a sea of cobalt and sky blue, looked back at her with a teasing glint.

“I could say the same to you,” he mused, deep voice wavering slightly. Dark bruises stained the skin beneath his eyes, droplets of sweat dappling his forehead. Magic depletion, Irene noted.

“Did you just come back from the Ether?” Irene asked, unable to stifle her curiosity.

“What?” The boy blinked in confusion. “No. Why do you ask?”

Interesting. There was really only one thing that would leave a student that exhausted and depleted of their magic—entering the Ether. Which meant this boy was either lying, or had gotten himself mixed up in something that was undoubtedly against the rules.

Irene hoped for the latter.

Sensing he had made a mistake, the boy cleared his throat and said, “I mean—I didn’t just come back from the Ether. I went a few hours ago.”

“Liar,” Irene shot back without hesitation. “You’re up to something.”

The boy stared at her for a prolonged moment. She would have assumed he’d grow agitated by her accusation, but he simply continued to look at her with that amused twinkle in his eyes.

“And what if I am?” He cocked his head, biting back a smile. “What are you going to do about it?”

Irene shrugged, mustering up her most vicious smile. “Dunno. I haven’t decided yet.”

“I bet that works on most people, doesn’t it?

” He took a step closer, never once breaking eye contact with her.

“The intimidation tactics. The menacing stare. That stereotypical mean girl routine you’ve mastered.

” He was inches away from her now, so close Irene could see the candlelight reflected in his irises.

“But…luckily for you…I’m not most people. ”

Irene rolled her eyes, though a part of her couldn’t help but squirm under the weight of his stare.

“That’s what everyone thinks,” she said, lifting her chin higher to meet his eyes. “Sorry to be the one to break the news to you—but you’re not special.”

The boy let out a chuckle of surprise.

“I don’t think you’re that sorry.”

Irene smirked. “Guilty.”

There was a second of silence, the two of them unflinching despite the tension between them, and then the boy was stepping away from her, jamming his hands into his pockets. “Well, I hate to cut this short, but I have somewhere to be.”

“How will I ever survive?” Irene deadpanned.

He chuckled, sauntering down the corridor. Before he turned the corner, he glanced back over his shoulder and his lips curved into a crooked smile. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around… Irene. ”

She froze, eyes locked on his. She didn’t recognize him, though that wasn’t entirely surprising.

It was a big school. Hundreds of students.

It wasn’t like she could keep track of everybody who came and went.

But if there was someone like that waltzing through the halls of Blackwood Academy, Irene would have thought she’d have noticed.

Especially since he seemed to have noticedher.

But before she could ask how he knew her name, he turned the corner and disappeared, leaving Irene with the sinking feeling that though this was her first time seeing him, it most certainly wouldn’t be her last.