Page 54 of Immortal Consequences (The Souls of Blackwood Academy #1)

August

The walls of the banquet hall had been enchanted to look as though they had been dusted with starlight, a twinkling cosmos projected upon the glass ceiling.

Vines dotted with white roses wrapped around the window frames, slithering their way toward the floor.

Silver trays filled to the brim with towers of champagne floated around the dance floor.

Enchanted butterflies fluttered their wings and soared throughout the room in swirling patterns, a kaleidoscope of opalescent colors.

Students crowded around the dance floor, milling about and giggling into their hands, each one of them outfitted in fine fabrics and rich colors, an ostentatious display that made August’s stomach involuntarily churn.

When he finally mustered up the courage to walk inside, a nauseating cloud assaulted his senses. The air was redolent with the putrid scent of illusionary magic. He lifted his hand as one of the butterflies danced in front of him, swatting it away.

It disappeared in a puff of indigo and violet sparks.

Nothing but an illusion. Just like everything else in this godforsaken place.

“Don’t you clean up nice.”

Irene’s voice reverberated behind him. He tilted his head back and looked her up and down.

She wore a sleek midnight-blue gown with a rather high slit, exposing the side of her right thigh.

Silver earrings shaped to look like daggers dangled from her ears, the tip of each blade adorned with glittering sapphires.

Of course. Much like their usual uniforms, the ball outfits provided by the academy were tailored to fit the students’ personalities.

And Irene’s dagger earrings were a stark reminder that her beauty came with a steep price.

“Nice dress.”

She narrowed her gaze. “Don’t pretend like you’re not dying to rip it off me.”

“I’d rather rip my own eyes out.”

“Well, I can help with that.”

He glanced down at her abdomen. Though it had been a couple of weeks since her initial wound in the maze, August could tell it was still bothering her.

“How’s it healing?”

“It’s still there, if that’s what you’re asking.” Her bottom lip twitched in displeasure. “I guess I forgot how persistent pain can be. Right when I think it might be fully healed, I make the tiniest wrong movement and it hurts all over again.”

“Bad luck,” mused August.

“Don’t be an asshole. There are still two trials left. You might have come out unscathed from the first couple, but I’d wager you won’t be so lucky next time around.”

“Wouldn’t you just love that?”

Something flashed behind her eyes. A fleeting emotion. So fast he could have missed it.

Irene stepped closer.

“You know what? I would love it. I would absolutely love to watch you crumble if it meant I’d be the last one standing. Because no matter what you do, no matter how many tricks you have up your sleeve—I will find a way to win.” She stepped past him, turning to glance at him over her shoulder.

“I always do.”

And with that, she stormed off, disappearing into the crowd.

August refocused his attention on the room.

The other nominees were congregated, slightly separated from the rest of the students.

Josie and Carter were practically joined at the hip, sitting at a table, each nursing a glass of wine.

They’d been inseparable since they lost their partners, clearly forming a new alliance.

Emilio and Olivier were standing behind the table, awkwardly swaying along to the classical tune echoing throughout the hall.

August assumed each was waiting for the other to pluck up the courage to ask for a dance, though neither of them dared to glance at the other.

“They’re infuriating,” said a familiar voice.

Masika had appeared behind him without a sound. She wore a golden embroidered dress, delicate bracelets wrapped around both arms. Emeralds decorated the golden bands of metal, glistening beneath the flickering candlelight. “I just want to force them to open their eyes.”

“I suppose we could do it for them.” August slid his gaze toward her. “Just a gentle nudge in their subconscious should do the trick.”

Masika shook her head in disapproval and swiped a glass of champagne from a nearby floating tray.

“Why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Put on that ‘I hate the world’ front. You want everyone to think you’re this cold, apathetic person, but I don’t think you are.” Masika took a long sip, eyeing him carefully. “You’re not a bad guy, August. Stop trying to be one.”

“Masika.” August turned to her, angling his face closer. “Believe me when I tell you…that I am the furthest thing from good.”

She kept her gaze locked on his, unflinching.

“Well, guess what?” She leaned in closer. “I still don’t buy it.”

August chuckled, sweeping his gaze back toward the dance floor. He spotted Irene on the other side of the room, separated from the other nominees. She kept fussing with something on her neck, though August couldn’t see anything there.

“Irene seems more distant than usual.”

Masika nodded, lips pursed. “I thought it might just be the pressure of the Decennial, but…I’m worried about her. It’s like I can feel her fading. Like I can practically see the rift forming between us. Honestly, it kind of reminds me of—”

“Catherine?”

She nodded. “I know they’re not the same person, but I still worry. How could I not?”

“You think she’ll join the Demien Order.”

“She’s mentioned it before,” muttered Masika, dipping her voice lower.

August shook his head. “Irene wouldn’t. She’s smarter thanthat.”

“But she’s scared. Whether or not she admits it out loud, Irene is terrified.

It’s why she’s desperate for power. She wants to feel in control.

And a part of me can’t help but think that if she doesn’t win, if she doesn’t become part of the Ascended…

” Her voice trailed away, but August knew what she was implying.

“You’ll have to keep a close eye on her.”

“I will.”

August sighed.

“Friendship in the afterlife isn’t for the faint of heart.”

“Neither is love.” She gestured toward Emilio and Olivier with an exasperated wave. “A part of me worries those two will never wake up and acknowledge their feelings.”

“Maybe they won’t.”

“Speaking of complicated feelings…” Masika chuckled beneath her breath.

August lifted his gaze.

“What?”

She nudged him toward the entrance. “Open your eyes.”

And that was when August looked up and saw her.

Her auburn hair had been set free from its usual braid, cascading down her shoulders in loose waves. The academy had gifted her a crimson dress that flowed to the floor in ribbons of silk. Rubies adorned her neck, like crystallized droplets of blood clinging to her ivory skin.

August was mildly aware of Masika’s amused gaze drilling into him, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t think of anything—of anybody—besides Wren Loughty standing before him, breaking through the crowd like a blood-soaked flame.

August.

He tensed as his own name rattled in his mind. For a brief second, he thought it might have been someone else calling out to him, his mind playing tricks on him. But he knew that voice.

He would always know that voice.

Wren continued to stare at him, his name echoing through his mind once more.

August.

A paralyzing shudder ran through his body when the realization dawned on him.

He’d figured there might be some residual side effects tied to the spell he had cast. Putting a piece of his soul inside someone was bound to have consequences.

Mind reading, however, was a bit of a surprise.

He had two options. He could pretend he hadn’t noticed and simply approach her as if nothing were wrong. Or…he could push the boundary a little more. Embrace the new connection and face the potential destruction left in its wake.

But as he watched her, as he let his eyes roam over her face, he knew there was really no choice. Not when he already knew what he was going to do.

He let out a shuddering breath…and dipped into her mind.

Loughty, darling. Are you going to simply stand there staring, or are you going to set aside your pride and come talk to me?

Confusion instantly washed over her face. Her brows scrunched. Her mouth slightly parted.

What…what is this? Her voice slithered into his mind. Why can I hear you?

Christ…hearing Wren’s voice was one thing, but feeling it inside his mind was something else entirely. It was overwhelming. Dizzying. Like a dangerously good high.

He needed to get a grip.

His legs moved robotically underneath him, cutting through the crowd. Neither of them dared to look away as they closed the distance between them.

When they were finally standing together in the middle of the dance floor, Wren let out a choked breath.

“What the hell is going on?”

August shook his head. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t a complete lie. He knew why it was happening—he just had no idea how it was possible.

“We can’t…I shouldn’t be able to…” Wren shook her head. “Telepathic communication goes beyond any of our magical abilities. That isn’t…that isn’t something we should be able to do.”

August smirked. Well, I guess we’re just better than everybodyelse.

Wren scoffed.

You’re insufferable.

“You look nice,” August added out loud, looking her up and down. Nice. It didn’t even begin to scratch the surface. She was so much more than just nice. Though truthfully, he doubted there were any words he could string together that could adequately describe how he felt about Wren.

“Thanks.” Her eyes nervously scanned the room, as though she was looking for somebody.

“Something on your mind?” He cocked his head, stepping closer. “I would expect you’d be a little more… persistent about figuring out why we can suddenly read each other’s thoughts.”

Wren’s eyes jolted back toward August. “I just…I have something important I need to talk to you about.”

Apprehension pressed against August’s chest.

“More important than this ? All right. I’m intrigued.”