LOGINOn her eighteenth birthday, Aria Veyne’s life is destroyed by a single burst of ancient magic. Kidnapped by powerful elders and taken to Ebonveil Academy, a school built to monitor the world’s most dangerous supernaturals, Aria quickly learns one terrifying truth. No one knows what she is. Not even her. But the moment her powers awakened, three heirs felt it. Archer Nightblade, the powerful werewolf heir, fights instincts that demand he protect her. Lucien Blackwell, the dangerously composed vampire heir, hides a hunger that has nothing to do with blood. Jasper Ashwyck, the charming fae heir, can’t decide if Aria is his greatest curiosity… or his greatest weakness. The closer Aria gets to them, the stronger her mysterious magic becomes. As secrets buried for centuries begin to surface, the elders realize they may have made a catastrophic mistake. Because Aria isn’t just another student. She may be the one person capable of changing the supernatural world forever. And if the darkness hunting her doesn’t claim her first, the girl with violet eyes just might.
View MoreAria’s POV: By the time lunch arrives, my head is pounding. I’ve been to three classes. Three different professors watching me like I might explode at any second. Three straight hours of pretending I’m not seconds away from completely losing my mind. At this point, I deserve a medal. Or alcohol. Possibly both. The cafeteria is massive. Not just massive..castle massive. Dark archways stretch overhead while hundreds of students crowd long tables beneath floating lights that glow silver against the stone walls. The room buzzes with conversation, laughter, magic. Actual magic. Someone across the room casually lights a candle with their fingers while another levitates trays through the air like it’s normal. Which apparently here, it is. The second I walk in, the noise shifts slightly. Not enough for most people to notice. Enough for me to. Whispers ripple through the room as eyes follow me again. Apparently becoming the academy’s unstable mystery girl is great for popularity. I igno
Aria’s POV: The walk through Ebonveil feels endless. Every hallway looks older than the last, carved from stone that seems to swallow the light instead of reflect it. Massive arched windows line the corridors, but the gray sky outside barely reaches in. Everything here feels heavy. Alive. Like the academy itself is watching me. “You’ll get used to the staring eventually,” Elara says without looking at me. “I doubt it.” A group of students passes us, their voices lowering the second they notice me. Some look curious. While others look cautious. A few even outright afraid. I hate that one the most. “What exactly did they tell people about me?” I mutter. Elara shrugs. “Enough.” We descend another staircase, deeper into the academy. The air grows warmer here, carrying the faint scent of smoke and something metallic underneath it. Magic. At least, that’s the only word my brain can come up with. “Are you in the same classes as me?” I ask. Elara glances over. “No.” “Then why are y
Aria’s POV: I wake up slowly, not because I'm well-rested but because everything hurts. My head throbs first, dull and heavy, like I've been dragged through something I don't remember. My body follows, stiff and sore, as if I fought something in my sleep or perhaps something fought me. When my eyes finally open, I'm met with a ceiling I don't recognize. The dark wood beams stretch overhead, carved with strange symbols that seem to shift slightly if I stare too long, though they stop moving when I blink. "Good," a voice says, and I jerk upright too fast, pain flashing through my skull as I turn toward the sound. I'm not alone. The man standing across the room looks exactly like the kind of person who drags girls off the street in the middle of the night. He’s tall, controlled, and impossibly calm. Power radiates off him, not wild like mine, but precise and intentional, like he has spent years mastering it. It presses against my skin in a way that makes it hard to breathe. "Where
Aria’s POV: I don’t talk about what happened. Not to Lizzy, my parents, or even to myself. I pretend it didn’t happen. That it was some kind of nightmare. A hallucination. A bad reaction to whatever was in that drink. People accept easier explanations when you hand them one. So I do. “He just passed out,” I tell Lizzy the next day when she asks. Her brows knit together. “Aria… you looked terrified when I found you.” “I was,” I admit. That part isn’t a lie. “I thought something was really wrong.” “Wasn’t there?” I shake my head, lying straight to her face. “I think I just freaked out.” She studies me for a long moment, like she’s trying to decide if she believes me. Then she nods slowly. “Okay,” she says, even though I can tell she’s not fully convinced. I don’t give her anything else. If I start talking now, I won’t be able to stop. I try to go back to normal. I go to work, come home and sleep. Trying to repeat the process until I feel normal again. But normal doesn’t feel






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