Once Upon A Wolf: A Dark Academy Reverse Harem Bully Romance (Everafter Academy Book 1)

by Scarlett Snow

  Sirena hauls me at speed out of the courtyard and into the main building. She leads me to the round tower that holds the library and the cafeteria.

  “Be careful!” she hisses. “That was awesome, but that’s the sort of thing that Lockwood despises. He hates when people misuse magic.”

  “That wasn’t misuse,” I object. “It was pay back.”

  She rolls her eyes. “Spoken like a true Darkblood.”

  Her words stop me cold.

  It’s the first day and I’ve already blown my disguise.

  I’m behaving like Ravyn, not Redera.

  How does Sirena know that I’m a dark witch? And why doesn’t she seem bothered by it?

  Erik and his friend follow us in from the courtyard, hounded by a gaggle of idiot girls.

  The blond says, “That was quite a performance. Are you a witch?”

  One of the girls with him, another blonde with unnaturally long hair twisted into a braid, says, “Yes, because witches don’t belong in Everafter.”

  “It’s dark witches that don’t belong here,” I correct her, crossing my arms.

  Sirena chimes in, also folding her arms. “White witches are still welcome the last we checked.”

  Despite the fact that she knows who and what I really am, she still has my back. This chick is serious best friend goals.

  “Yes, Rapunzel,” Erik sneers. “Didn’t you read the brochure? Seems Everafter is letting just anybody in these days.”

  The blond boy asks once more, “Are you a witch?”

  “Witches. Aren’t. Welcome,” Rapunzel reiterates, stabbing at me with her fingertip. “Only. Princesses.”

  “Well,” I say, gesturing toward Erik and the blond, “that explains how they got in here.”

  The blond’s face turns dark with anger and he stomps away. Erik and Rapunzel follow him, along with his little crowd of hangers-on. I let them go, because I absolutely do not care what pretty-boy, tiny-dicked princes think of me.

  A bell near the cafeteria rings loudly, and I feel like my ears are going to shatter. Draoich was never this loud.

  “What the he—” I catch myself before I say ‘heaven’, “—hell is that?”

  “Feeding time at the zoo,” Sirena shrugs. “Come on. Lunchtime.”

  I’m relieved she’s reacting to my identity as though it’s nothing. I do the same, hoping my dark heart won’t cause a rift between us, and ask, “What if I’m not hungry?”

  “Then you won’t be able to have any food until dinner and we eat late around here.”

  She grabs my arm and pulls me into the cafeteria. It looks the same as any other cafeteria, with long tables and huge lines for almost-edible food cooked in mass quantities, using techniques guaranteed to scour all of the taste out of any ingredient. Everything’s organic. This is literally my idea of heaven. Ugh.

  I look around for someplace to sit and wouldn’t you know it? Today’s my lucky day. The only table with any open seats is the one where Erik and his friend are seated.

  “Well,” I mutter to Sirena, “here goes nothing.”

  We get in line and select the best options out of all the bad choices available. Something tells me that the kitchen staff isn’t trained in the magical preparation of food, because it looks like everything is fucking boiled. I don’t think I’ll be eating much in this place. Good thing I can conjure up my own food.

  I choose the vegetable soup and we go to the table with the last open seats, now down by one because Prince Biff—or whatever his actual name is—joins us. I guess food was more important to him than assuaging Cinder’s and Aurora’s egos. Good call, actually.

  Erik executes his asshole maneuver again, covering the seat with his leg.“Reserved.”

  “For whom?” I demand, grimacing at him.

  “For anybody who’s not a dark witch,” Prince Biff says, leaning over with a sneer. “Go back to Nevermore where you belong, Darkblood.”

  First of all, how the fuck does he know I’m a dark witch? Not that anyone here seems to believe him, but still, the fact that he’s right pisses me off.

  Second, who is this fuckpot?

  I’ve had enough of it.

  All of the upset and the frustration that I’ve been keeping bottled up explode and I dump my bowl of soup onto his head. He leaps up and I turn my tray into a weapon, pulling back to smash him in the face with it.

  I don’t get the chance to follow through.

  A huge masculine hand grabs my wrist and then the tray is wrenched out of my grip. I spin around and find myself face to face with the delectable Headmaster Lockwood. Up close, he’s even taller than I expected. He’s an imposing physical presence and I’ll bet that under his suit and cloak he’s absolutely ripped.

  “Uhh… hello there, Sir…” I stammer, my arm still held in mid air by one of his hands.

  “What is this about?” the headmaster demands. The intensity in his eyes is chilling and I nearly back up a step before I catch myself. I stand my ground and lift my chin in defiance. The anger in his gaze actually increases, sending an intense thrill through me. Ooh, that look does things for me.

  To my surprise, Erik’s other friend speaks up in my defense. “It was my fault, sir,” he says, taking the blame for Prince Biff. “I was teasing her and she meant to douse me in the soup.”

  Lockwood looks at the boy and says, “Christopher, I’m surprised at you, and disappointed. I thought you were someone who was too well-mannered to get into this sort of trouble.”

  Christopher hangs his head and Prince Biff grabs napkins from the table to wipe his face.

  “And you, Erik,” Lockwood continues. “You are out of uniform. Take off that ridiculous jacket.”

  Reluctantly, Prince Erik complies and then the moment I’ve been waiting for arrives. The headmaster turns to glare at me and his eyes flash. “As for you, Miss Hemlock… I know that you haven’t had the advantages that some of your fellow students have had, but that’s no excuse to act like a barbarian. If I ever see you wasting food again, I will have no choice but to intervene.”

  That sounds like a promise and a threat wrapped up with a bow.

  “Yes, Sir,” I say, trying to sound respectful.

  Lockwood puts the tray down on the table. “Get more food, since you spoiled this. And fetch a second-year to practice magical cleaning.”

  A girl nearby produces a wand and sweeps it over the area that’s been drenched by my soup. The food disappears as if it had never been there, not even leaving a wet spot on Prince Biff’s huge head. His face is still purple with rage.

  Lockwood nods at the improvement before he faces Prince Biff. “I trust this will not happen again, Gideon?”

  There’s a long, strained pause before he answers. His eyes still glaring daggers into my skull, he growls, “I’m sure it won’t, sir.”

  “Good. As you all were then.” Lockwood stalks out of the cafeteria, his long cloak flapping behind him.

  The room stays quiet until we’re all sure he’s gone. Gideon (aka Prince Biff), Erik (aka Leather Jerk), and Christopher share a silent look. Gideon nods once, then they grab their trays and stalk away.

  “Sheesh. Did you see Lockwood’s face? He’s really pissed off,” Sirena mutters, digging into her vegetable stir fry. “Watch your step, sista.”

  I can think of a lot of things with Lockwood I wouldn’t mind watching, but my step surely isn’t one of them. I know that look he gave me—I’ve seen it my whole life. There’s something sinister about the headmaster, a string of dark energy that stretches between us. I felt it in my veins, calling out to the darkness within me.

  Colour me fucking intrigued, things just got a little interesting. About time.

  When the school day ends, I’m more tired than I thought I would be. The bell ringing causes me to jump in my seat and I realize that I was just about to doze off. Honestly, the fact that I managed an hour of Professor Nightingale calling Draoich an abomination is a damn miracle. I’m surprised I never fell as
leep the instant he started prattling on about how we started the Silva War, when we didn’t.

  So far, Magical Studies doesn’t seem like my kind of jam.

  I pack my books into the small feather bag Alice loaned me. Chairs screech across the rustic wooden floor as students prepare to leave. The only person I recognized in my last two classes was Gideon, who very generously spent the vast majority of them attempting to glare a hole into the back of my head.

  Exhausted, I sling the bag over my shoulder, grab my cloak and leave the stuffy little classroom. I merge into the crowd of students buzzing through the hallways. Sirena and Alice don’t seem to be around, but I catch a glimpse of Jasper, Alice’s rabbit, darting around the corner.

  Curious, I weave my way through the students and rush after him. He hops down another hallway and disappears into a small passage. I follow him as quickly as I can, only to discover that the passage leads to a set of spiral stairs. They’re steep, just like every other staircase in this castle, and it feels like I’ve walked down a thousand of them by the time I reach the bottom.

  Sunlight bleeds into my eyes. I take another step and emerge into a beautiful courtyard filled with the most gorgeous flowers I’ve ever seen. Hibiscus and primrose flutter around me. Rose bushes and bluebells line the cobbled pathway twisting around the freshly mown grass. There’s countless species of flowers I don’t recognise, but their brightly-colored petals are no less beautiful.

  I seem to be alone. Seem to be. I know Jasper is hiding in here somewhere.

  “Jasper?” I call out to him, peering into the nearest rosebush. Nothing. “Where are you, you little shit?”

  He hops out of the rose bush and then darts through the flowerbeds, looking back to see if I’m following. I’m almost tempted to chase him if I wasn’t so tired.

  “You brought me here to play with you?” I shake my head at him. “What a strange little familiar you are.”

  Jasper stops to scratch an itch on his ear and I take another look around, wondering what on earth he brought me here for. It’s clear that someone has poured a lot of love into this garden. Aside from the flowers and perfectly maintained grounds, there’s also a greenhouse at the other end of the garden.

  Jasper hops off again, scampering toward the greenhouse. I take a step after him, but a strange hand touches my right arm and I nearly jump out of my skin.

  I instinctively raise my hands and gather a fireball. The flames are light blue instead of dark green. I wonder how powerful this white magic will be?

  Spinning around, I glare at the stranger who touched me. The young man is small and bent with a slightly haggard appearance. His auburn hair is unruly, curtaining half of his pale face. The only eye visible is blue and clearly too big for its socket. When he sees the fireball in my hand, he stumbles backward and frantically holds out his arms in supplication.

  “You scared the hell out of me,” I say, keeping the fireball visible until I know it’s safe. “Who are you?”

  The man moves his hands around in rapid motions, signaling that he’s deaf. I glance down at his clothes and realize that he’s wearing a brown jumpsuit instead of a uniform. He’s a member of the staff.

  I extinguish the fireball into my palm, then sign to him. ::Are you deaf?::

  He seems surprised by my communication and pauses for a moment. ::You can also sign?::

  I nod at him. ::My grandma was deaf.::

  His beady eye widens in amazement. ::I’m sorry I gave you a fright. I didn’t mean to.::

  “It’s okay,” I reply, wondering if he can hear since he never really answered my question. “Can you hear me all right or is it easier if I signed?”

  ::I can still hear,:: he signs back, ::I’m just not able to speak.::

  “What happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Instead of replying, he points over my shoulder. I watch him step around me toward the greenhouse. That’s when I notice he has a terrible limp and a hump on his left shoulder, forcing him to lean forward.

  Out of nowhere, a goat appears and skips after the man. Jasper seems to recognize the creature and runs circles around him. Curiosity always gets the better of me. I barely last one minute before I’m standing in the doorway of the greenhouse.

  I’ve seen greenhouses before. This one is like a mansion. I have never seen such intricate glass-work in my life. It’s almost like we’re inside a gem instead of a building made for keeping plants warm. It’s larger on the inside than I thought it would be and it occurs to me that the discrepancy is because the place is magical.

  Well, duh. Of course it is.

  There are wooden workbenches against the walls and a pair of aisles surrounded by cuttings and seedlings and delicate baby plants. Some of them are flowering and some are vegetables or fruits.

  At the end of the greenhouse, inset in a circle of black glass up near the peak of the roof, is a breathtaking stained glass portrait. When I see who the portrait is of, my heart drops into my stomach. It’s Esmeralda, my three-times great-grandmother. But she’s young, much younger than she was when she was captured by Witch Hunters. Her long dark hair cascades over her shoulders in soft waves, her eyes are the same dark brown as my own and she’s holding a baby goat in her arms. The same goat that had run past me not a moment ago.

  I can’t believe what I’m seeing. What is a portrait of my ancestor doing in here?

  She’s dressed just like every picture I’ve ever seen of her, in a beautiful off-the-shoulder white blouse, with big gold earrings and a colorful scarf around her head.

  “This is why Jasper brought me here,” I whisper to myself. Turning around, I sign, ::When was this window created?::

  He pauses, looking back up at the glass. ::Around ten years ago. She was a professor here until…:: He stops, averting his gaze to the floor.

  Until what, I want to ask, but I can see that he’s uncomfortable with the subject. He might not want to share personal information with someone he’s just met.

  I look up at the portrait. This was made ten years ago? That would suggest my ancestor was still alive when Mom gave birth. Our mom died shortly after the delivery, so Grandma raised us. All she told me about Esmeralda was that she was taken from Draoich after giving birth to my grandfather. Now it turns out that she may have been alive all this time. She must be over one hundred and fifty years old.

  My head spins with the information. Sure, witches age slowly once they reach full maturity. But if this is all true, why was Esmeralda, a Darkblood, teaching at Everafter Academy? And what happened to her? Why would she just abandon her family like that? Was she still part of the coven?

  I’m not sure this guy is the person to ask about her, at least not right now. So I say instead, “This place is beautiful.”

  And it really is. I’m surprised I think so, since there’s no black anywhere in the room.

  My companion gestures to the stained glass. ::This is Esmeralda’s Garden. It’s a sacred place.::

  “Sacred? And here I was trespassing,” I groan, face-palming. “I’m sorry. I was chasing my friend’s familiar and he came in here. I never knew this courtyard was private.”

  He shakes his hands. ::No, no. It’s okay. I know Jasper. He’s the rabbit, right?::

  “Yeah, that’s the guy.”

  ::He’s very talkative.::

  I snort at that. “That’s one way to describe him. Pain in the ass, more like.”

  The window catches my attention again. “What’s your name? I just realized I never asked it. You know, before I almost toasted your ass.”

  He breathes a laugh through his nose and shakes his head. ::It’s Quasimodo. Or Quasi.::

  “That’s a nice name.” I smile and hold out my hand. “I’m Red.”

  Quasimodo looks up and stares at me for a moment. It’s like he’s trying to suss out if I’m genuine or not. Of course, I’m completely genuine. There’s something truly sweet about Quasimodo. Maybe it’s the way his smile lights up his face like sunbeams.
He seems like he’ll be a nice friend to have on my side.

  Tentatively, he places a deformed hand into my own and we shake hands. I get the feeling he isn’t used to people being willing to touch him.

  At that moment, Jasper runs out of the greenhouse, chased by the goat.

  I let go of Quasiomodo’s hand and scramble the rabbit into my arms before he can escape. If Jasper brought me here to find out about Esmerelda and make a friend, I’m thankful. But if I find out it was just so he could have a playdate with a goat, I’m going to be pissed.

  “It’s time to get you back home,” I tell Jasper, waving at Quasimodo with my free hand. “See you around, Quasi.”

  He waves at me, then finishes with, ::Take care of yourself.::

  When I get back to the dorm room with Jasper, Broin is hopping along the headboard of my bed, the avian equivalent of pacing. He flaps his wings and squawks when he sees me.

  I put Jasper in his cage, then turn to face him. “What’s the matter now?”

  —You picking fights is what’s wrong,—he chides. —Alice told me about it. She said it was awesome.—

  “It was.”

  —It wasn’t. It was a serious error and you need to be corrected. You’re supposed to be blending in, not making sure you have an engraved entry on the headmaster’s shit list.—

  I sigh with resignation. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I got so mad, and…”

  —Jasper is listening. We can’t talk in the open anymore.—

  I nod and sit down on my bed. He takes a short flight over to me so he can sit on my knee. I stroke his feathers, and we continue to talk.

  —It’s so hard to be here. Every time I look at the place—this bed, these pillows, this class schedule—I just keep thinking that my sister is supposed to be here. I miss them so much.—