Page 20 of Wicked Vows (Cursed Darkness (DarkHallow Academy) #1)

Dathan

B lackgrove doesn’t walk. He glides. A predator moving through his own territory, and we’re just three lesser beasts he’s summoned to his den.

The air around him is a vacuum, sucking up sound and light.

The usual hallway chatter dies as we pass, their fear of Blackgrove a delicious, crackling static in the air.

It’s a good vintage, a fine blend of awe and pure, existential dread. I take a deep, satisfying breath of it.

We’re all on edge, though. Blackgrove has that effect on people.

His office door swings open without a touch. We follow him into the cavernous space, the nebula of starlight on the ceiling swirling in agitated patterns.

“Sit,” Blackgrove says, not looking at us. He moves behind his desk and sits in his dark throne at the centre of his own private universe.

We don’t. An unspoken, unified act of defiance.

The temperature in the room drops ten degrees. His pale eyes are not angry. They’re ancient. They’ve seen empires rise and fall. Our little power play is just a footnote in a very, very long book.

“What is your sudden interest in Lysithea?” he asks.

“We find her fascinating,” I reply.

“Only now? She has been here for over two years, and suddenly you decide she is worth pursuing.”

I shrug. “What can we say? We like the anticipation.”

“No.”

I blink, momentarily displaced by the simple one syllable.

“No?”

“Is that a word you don’t understand, Mr Dathan? I did warn you about the consequences of consent, did I not?”

He peers at me as if he expects an answer to what I’d thought was a rhetorical question. “You did.”

Verik and Evren remain silent. Although that’s not unexpected from the Bone Harbinger. However, a bit of support might be fucking nice.

“Stay away from Lysithea,” Blackgrove says.

“Why?”

“I don’t need to give you a reason. You are in my academy, and I have given you a direct order.”

Part of me wonders if he knows about what happened in the Blood Pit last night, but if he knew, why would he be trying to warn us off her?

If he knew about the Scar, this wouldn’t be a warning.

It would be an obliteration. This is something else entirely.

He’s protecting his prize specimen. Or he’s protecting us from her.

The ambiguity is delicious. But if he doesn’t know, then I’m not going to tell him.

“With all due respect, Professor, that’s not going to happen.”

Blackgrove’s pale eyes narrow. The orb of darkness beside his head swirls faster. “Is that a challenge?”

“It’s a statement of fact.”

Verik shifts beside me, the scent of hellfire sharpens in the air, while Evren is a statue of ice. They have abandoned me to this conversation, so fuck them.

“She is a volatile asset,” Blackgrove says, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous murmur. “One I will not have destabilised by whatever game you are playing.”

The Scar on my arm gives a faint, warm pulse. A secret he doesn’t know he’s prodding.

“She’s not a game.” I let that hang there, the seriousness in my tone laid bare.

His gaze bores into mine. “No. She is the only one of her kind, and she can liquefy your insides with a well-pitched hum. Are you fully prepared to take that risk?”

“Why is she here if she’s so dangerous?” I blurt out suddenly.

Blackgrove smiles. “All students here are dangerous, Mr Dathan. Some more than others, granted. But DarkHallow specialises in monsters.”

“What aren’t you telling us?” Verik asks, deciding to reanimate and join the adults in the conversation.

Blackgrove scoffs lightly. “You think I’m going to tell you anything?”

“You are warning us away from a woman we are very interested in. I think we deserve to know why.”

“You don’t deserve anything. Stay away from her. Dismissed.”

I glare at Verik. He made a total fuck up of that.

We don’t get to stand around much longer as the office decides to throw us out. We stumble into the hallway, and the door slams shut behind us.

“Well, that was educational,” Verik states, smoothing down his shirt.

“Was it?” I grit out. “How so?”

“He’s protecting her,” Verik growls.

“No shit.”

“The question is why?”

“Also, no shit. But we don’t have time for this. We have a court and a grimoire to find.” Blackgrove can issue all the orders he wants. He just made her the most forbidden, most desirable creature in this entire realm. “Before it’s too late.”

We move back towards the dining hall in silence, but then Verik breaks it. “What do you think will happen to her if we don’t find this grimoire?”

Evren grips his arm and pulls him to a stop. He shakes his head, his face a warning.

“We aren’t going to find out,” I say for him.

Evren meets my gaze and nods.

We return to the dining hall. Lysithea is still at her table with Reena, a small island of defiance in a sea of gawking students. She looks up as we approach, her violet eyes narrowed, searching our faces for the outcome of Blackgrove’s lecture.

She won’t find fear. She’ll find resolve.

We sit, boxing her in again. The vampire, Reena, gives us a look that could curdle blood.

“Looks like you survived Blackgrove,” she says, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Leave us,” I say, putting as much menace into it as I can. Vampires have a survival instinct stronger than most. Reena leaves, but not without letting us know exactly how pissed off she is.

“Blackgrove wants us to leave you alone,” I say to Lysithea.

“So, you’ll be leaving now?” The hope in her expression hurts just a bit.

Verik leans forward, his arms on the table. “He just confirmed our theory. You’re more than just a powerful Siren. You’re a key. And he wants to keep you locked away.”

Evren places his hand flat on the table, palm up. A silent offering. A demand for unity.

Lysithea stares at his hand, then at each of us. The fight is still in her eyes, but it’s joined by a dawning, horrified understanding. Blackgrove isn’t her protector. He’s her keeper. We’re not just her tormentors. We’re her only way out.

Her gaze meets mine, and for a second, the hatred is eclipsed by a terrifying, shared purpose. We’re all in his cage now.