Bitten Magic (Bloodborn Academy Book 1)

by Emera Rose

  “Alright,” I say as I sit down on the ground.

  “Well, that was something,” Jasper jokes as he sits down next to me.

  “I’m fucked,” I say, dropping my head down to my knees.

  “Nah, you’re going to be okay.” Jasper pats me once on my shoulder.

  “Did you see what happened to me? I turned into a big dog.”

  “Well if you haven’t noticed, everyone in this school is supposed to be able to do the same thing. You’re in a school specifically for people who turn into big dogs. I don’t think anyone noticed.”

  I huff once, then I chuckle, then as the irony of the whole situation dawns on me, I laugh harder. I am a fucking werewolf. “Oh man, that’s wild.” I think back to the rest of what happened and realize I just had a fight with the son of one of the most influential people in the school. Barrett could have me expelled, werewolf or not. He’s a Lycan. Better than me. “What about Barrett?”

  I watched as Jasper’s face changes to a serious one. He knew I was screwed on that front. “I don’t know, man.”

  “I don’t have anywhere else to go.” Now that I’ve spent some time with four walls, a roof, and a bed, going back to living out of a backpack seems like the last thing I want to do.

  “Don’t worry about that now. How about this? We have a small break coming up this weekend. We can skip classes tomorrow and just head out early. You can come with me to my house and we will figure everything out. What do you think?” He turned to me excitedly.

  “Yeah, man, I’d like that.”

  I don’t know what the hell is going on with me, but I hope Jasper will be able to help me figure it out.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jasper

  “This entire part is yours?” Zev sounds shocked, but he really needs to start to expect the unexpected. I’m part of a higher line Lycan family. Of course, this entire part is mine. Having children is merely a means to an end, an obligation to further the line. I want to believe my father isn’t like the other highborn Lycans, the ones who don’t really give a damn about their children, however, at the end of the day, I can’t say he’s any different. While he tries to be a better parent than most, I know what I am to him—a status symbol, an heir. While we have a decent relationship, he really only communicates with me when he needs me to help him with something.

  I give Zev a curt nod. “Yeah, the kitchen is over there. I have my own dining area, living room, and a few bedrooms. The bedrooms are up the spiral staircase in the library.”

  “You’re sure he won’t mind you’ve brought me here?”

  He barely cares about anything I do. I doubt this would be any different. “No, he’s glad I have the company. Most days he’s working so much he doesn’t even see me while I’m here.”

  “Shit, that must suck.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I slide my hands into the pockets of my trousers. “Life sucks sometimes, Zev. You of all people would know that, right?”

  “If that isn’t accurate as hell, I don’t know what is,” Zev cackles from where we stand in the hallway.

  “I’m gonna go check-in with my father and let him know we’ve arrived. Go ahead upstairs and get settled in. The last bedroom on the left is my room, but you’re welcome to stay in any of the others.”

  “Cool. Thanks, man.”

  “No problem.” I mutter my reply as I head to the doorway that leads into the other part of the estate. Our home is in all actuality multiple homes in one building which has secret ‘tunnels’ that lead to the others. With my foot, I slide the stone griffin on the floor to the right and the doorway opens for me. Now, we have actual hallways as well, but using the tunnel is quicker and I don’t feel like walking around this entire damn place today.

  The tunnels are something all highborn Lycan families have. After all, with hunters and other enemies in our midst, there’s no telling when we would need to use them. Better to be safe than sorry.

  Stepping inside the tunnel, I leisurely walk to the other end. It leads to the hallway where my father’s office is located. I know better than to look in his living area or even the dining room. He’s always stuffing his nose in books, researching, doing work. Honestly, it’s the reason I can’t ever keep still.

  Though as I venture forward, I hear whispers about halfway down and realize the voice is growing louder and louder. It doesn’t take me long to figure out this isn’t just any voice—it’s my father’s. I know better, but I stop where I can hear his voice the loudest. It’s a rarity I get to hear him on business calls, and for the most part they’re boring, but as he mentions Zev by name and the courtyard, I know I can’t simply continue. I need to listen.

  Why is he talking about Zev to someone? I texted him and gave him a debrief before we left a few hours ago. I told him I was bringing Zev, letting him know Zev got into a fight in the courtyard in case he heard it muttered about by others.

  Pressing my ear to the wall, his words are even more muffled. God, how was I able to hear him so clearly? I take a step back and look up at the walls, realizing there’s an air vent I never noticed before. Leaning up, I press my ear to the air vent and listen closely as the conversation unfolds.

  “Yes, I’ve seen the footage already.” His tone is gruff and annoyed.

  A moment of silence passes before my father speaks up. “Yes, I know. I saw the security footage, how he shifted so fluidly, the way he could’ve been able to tear that Barrett kid to shreds given the chance. I . . .” My father stops speaking again and now I’ve come to a realization.

  Last night when Zev was in the courtyard, there was a cyan blue glow to his fur. There’s only one other person I’ve seen with that type of glow, a specific type of Lycan family—the Bonoviches. I recall my father telling me once there was a type of genetic marker they had that no other Lycan family was able to carry. And I only know this because my father was friends with one of the Bonoviches. If I’m remembering correctly, their entire line was killed when I was a small boy.

  “I will make sure he doesn’t keep digging into his past. You can be certain of it. I’ll lie to the boy. I’ll tell him whatever it is he needs to hear to halt his curiosity.”

  Who the fuck is my father speaking to? Fuck. I can’t with this right now. Deciding I’ve heard everything I need to hear, I walk forward and continue down the tunnel. Regardless, I’m going to speak to my father tonight before we go to bed.

  I make it halfway down the tunnel before I decide I need to turn around. I have two options here: confront my father right now and most likely have him lie to me or tell Zev what I know.

  I love my father. I do. But I know what I am to him.

  I’m fucking stuck between choosing family and choosing a friend who treats me as family should.

  My father will lie to me if I go to him, I’m certain of it. He’ll spin it however he needs to in order to keep me in the dark. So, my decision is made. I shove open the library doors and rush up the stairwell. Once I hit the top of the stairs, I look down the hallway to see if I can figure out which room Zev is in. The light is on under the first door to the right, so I knock my knuckles harshly against the wood and wait for him to open it.

  Zev pulls open the door and furrows his brows. “You good, man?”

  Figuring I’ll tell him in a minute, I push past him and begin pacing in the room. “There’s something I need to tell you, Zev. Something fucking . . . fucking insane.”

  “Okay . . .” My friend sounds nervous as hell.

  “Earlier this evening . . . when you shifted, you had this cyan blue glow around you. I didn’t think anything of it at first. The mere size of you was enough to make me shit myself, if I’m being honest, so the color didn’t matter in that moment . . . but the glow . . . there’s only a certain type of bloodline who’ve ever been reported to have a cyan glow through their fur when fully shifted.”

  Zev shuts the door and takes a few steps closer to me. He crosses his arms over his chest. “What’s this mean?” />
  “Your . . . I think I know who your family is. They were reportedly slaughtered by a cult of hunters that were allied to a rival pack, when I was a small boy. I can’t remember every detail, but what I do remember is my father’s tears. He cried for no one. Even when my own mother died, he didn’t cry at her death . . . but the loss of his best friend killed him. I believe there was a century-long war between two packs: the Lycans who followed the original alpha, and then the Lycans who formed the new pack following a new alpha. I’ll have to look back through our history books, however, the story essentially goes that a Lycan fell in love with a human. It’s one thing to bed a human, that’s done all the time, but to take one as your mate, that was strictly taboo. The Lycans who wanted to stay true to the code brought hell down on the original alpha, killing every pack member and family member in that pack that they could get to. The murders happened about fifteen years ago.”

  Zev takes a seat on the ottoman in front of the fireplace, wiping his hand across his face in what I assume is shock.

  Gulping, I look to my friend. “I didn’t realize it until now . . . until I had a moment to put the pieces together . . . but man . . . I think . . . I think I knew your parents. I think . . . I think I knew you.”

  Zev looks up to me. “What?”

  “My father’s best friend, his name was Anatoly Bonovich, and his wife was Kira. They had a son, around the same age as me, but they didn’t call him Zev. His name was Zinoviy . . . or I should say I think your name was Zinoviy.”

  Zev stares at me blankly, not sure what to make of this, not that I can blame him. I just dropped one hell of a bomb on him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Zev

  My heart pounds hard in my chest as I try to internalize what Jasper is telling me. He knew me. He knew my family. They were killed and . . . I might be the last one left.

  I’m an endangered species.

  “Are you telling me that someone killed my family just because they were holding a grudge?” My bones begin to tremble underneath my skin. I recognize the feeling from earlier this evening. My change is coming if I don’t get control of my anger.

  I take in a few deep breaths and look back over to Jasper, who has already gotten up and moved away from me. He’s afraid of what I will do to him if I shift. I have to make sure that I’m being rational about this. I need to stay calm.

  “Jasper, what does this mean for me? Are you sure about all this?”

  He regards me for a quick second before he comes back to sit down. “I’m as sure as I can be without doing all the proper research. My father,” Jasper says as he looks away and I see his jaw clench, “wouldn’t be trying to keep you from learning about yourself if it wasn’t for a good reason.”

  The amount of confusion in my head is consuming, and I know that no matter what I do, there is no way that I will be able to get through this on my own. I mean, it makes sense for me to be this Lycan. It would explain my shifting, my freakish power, and even what’s going on with Roxana, but what’s next? What am I up against? If I’m this Lycan, there is no way that I can do this alone. I need my pack.

  “Jasper, I know this might be difficult for you, but I need your help. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here.”

  “You don’t even have to ask. Besides, if you are a Bonovich, I get to say my best friend is a Lycan just like me. Imagine all the trim I’ll get.” Jasper leans back in his chair and laughs lightly. I should’ve known he would be down to help. He’s never been anything but kind to me. Jasper . . . he’s undoubtedly my first ally, but maybe he’s the first of my people—my pack.

  After digging further into my background and using the resources that Jasper has through his family, we were able to uncover someone who we thought was part of my family. It was simpler than I thought it would be. At least, Jasper made it look like it was. The hard part was making sure that we covered our tracks. The last thing that we wanted was for his father or whoever might be looking for me to figure out that we are on the verge of discovering the truth.

  Jasper was able to find the original paperwork that says who I was supposed to go to after my parents’ untimely death. The strange part about it is the name listed on the paper and the people who I was first given to are not the same. The paperwork says that I was supposed to go to a man named Reggie Ricci and he lives only a few hours away in Amherst, Massachusetts.

  Once we found this information, Jasper insisted that we make the trip to find him. It only took us a few hours and now we’re sitting in the car looking at an old colonial farmhouse that might hold the secrets of who I really am. All my answers might be within reach.

  “Look, Zev, I don’t know if this man is going to be receptive to seeing you. There are a lot of people who are trying to keep all this crap hidden. How or why my father would be a part of this, I still don’t know . . . but this man may have the same feelings about you finding out who you are,” Jasper says as we look at the door of the home.

  I know he’s right. This could be a dead end but I have to try.

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we get there.” I take a deep breath and step out of the car. Jasper follows me as we trudge up the stairs. The door is made of heavy oak and it looks well-built and weathered. I knock hard and wait for someone to come open the door. After a minute, when I don’t hear a thing, I knock again. Finally, after another few tense moments, I hear someone moving inside.

  The door swings open and a tired, agitated-looking man stands in the door frame. “Whatever you boys are selling, I don’t want it.” He tries to close the door, but I stick my hand out to stop him.

  “We aren’t selling anything, sir. We’re looking for someone. A Mr. Ricci, Reggie Ricci to be exact,” I say calmly, making sure to maintain eye contact in case he tries to pull a fast one and lie to us.

  “Yeah, and who would be looking for him?” he asks and a look of suspicion crosses his face. He doesn’t trust us, and it’s blatantly obvious.

  “The boy who he was entrusted with, that he gave away like trash.” I hear the snark in my voice and as much as I try to keep calm, I can feel the emotions beginning to rise.

  “What are you talking about?” Reggie steps further out of his house. His eyes examining the both of us further.

  This time, it's Jasper who speaks up. “About fourteen years ago, a family was killed, Anatoly and Kira Bonovich, and they left behind a son. According to the paperwork, this son was supposed to be left to you. You were supposed to be the guardian of Zinoviy Bonovich.”

  Reggie’s eyes grow bigger and bigger with every word. Clearly, he knew what was going on.

  “This is Zev, the last remaining Bonovich heir.” My eyes cut to Jasper. It was a bit uncomfortable for him to refer to me as such. A few weeks ago, I was struggling to keep food in my belly and now he’s making it seem like I’m royalty or something because he thought I was a Lycan. I look back over to Reggie, who squints his eyes at me.

  “Bullshit,” he says matter-of-factly. There is no doubt in his mind that this is an elaborate charade.

  My mouth drops open in surprise and I close it before ultimately opening it again. He’s going to make me prove it. How exactly would I do that? I only have what I found from the internet. There’s no photos or family heirlooms. I only have my memories, the few I actually remember at least. I was so young when I was taken from my family, I’m afraid I don’t remember it all.

  “It’s not. After my family died, I was given to Sasha and Mikael Silvos, they were shit to me. They owned a farm down in Tennessee and grew tobacco. I remember because after harvest they’d have it hanging up in one of the barns. It needed to dry, so for weeks on end they’d leave it there and the scent would waft in the air. They had a black and gray dog with one ear cut off. Sasha was a large woman and Mikael was very thin. She dominated him. Pretty much anything she said, he did. After about six years, when I was of no more use to them, they shipped me off to foster homes.” I can’t think of what else I could say.
“My mother always smelled like trees and flowers.” I closed my eyes and tried to pull up the last memory I had of her. “Dad used to call her dodomu, or something like that.”

  “Home.” Reggie’s eyes watered up. “Your mother smelled like the forest, where your father felt most at peace. Dodomu means home.” He shook his head, still in disbelief. “Show me your arm,” he demanded.

  “What?”

  “Your arm, show it to me.”

  I pull up both my sleeves, not sure what he is looking for, but I will do whatever to get him to believe me. He grabs my right arm and turns it so that he can see my inner elbow. He looks right at my anastomoses, basically my artery and a few veins fused together leaving me with a blue discoloration at that point in my arm. Doctors all told me that it would mean nothing to me health-wise, that it was just a birthmark, so I never thought anything of it.

  “It’s true. Your father had the same one, and his father, all the way back to the beginning.” A lone tear fell from his eye and he snatched me into a tight hug. “Oh Zinoviy, I’m so sorry. So sorry.” He pulled back, holding me at arms-length, looking me over with a huge smile on his face. “You’re home now.” He stood back from the door and let us in.

  “Home?” I ask as I make my way in. “If this is my home, why don’t I know who you are? Why did you abandon me after my parents trusted you to watch me? If you knew the crap I’ve been through.”

  “Zev?” he says tentatively, and I nod in affirmation. “I thought you would be safe with your cousins. They swore that they would take care of you and I knew that if you stayed with me, the cultists would come for you. Your father and I were very close friends. They came for you hours after you got here. I knew that if I didn’t get you somewhere safe, you would be lost. I had to hide you, so I sent you off to cousins of your mother. Cousins no one knew about with instructions to keep you protected and out of the public eye.”