Page 131 of Every Shade of Shadow

The girls and I keep to our pact of staying together, chaperoning each other to classes and regularly checking in. There are no signs of the rogue shadows that attacked Lily and me, which, given who orchestrated them in the first place, comes as no surprise.

Still, I go over Gran’s grimoire between classes, jumping between that and the book of Shadowcraft. If Mortis appears again, I want to be as prepared as possible, especially if it’s more than my own life at stake.

I break our arrangement when it comes time for my midnight meeting with the Professor, walking as calmy as possible through the dim hallways pulling the peacoat tight around myself, shifting from shadow to shadow so as not to be seen.

Damien examines me cooly when he opens the door, rolling up his sleeves because apparently, we have “much to prepare.”

What follows is almost an hour of running through the spell and the exact inflections required, my place in it all. There are black candles to be lit, incense to be prepared, and the whole time I’m working in my birthday suit.

The Professor makes it quite clear how ancient and dangerous this spell is, though I fail to see how after what I’ve been through. We’ve been working up to this, yes, but how bad could it be?

What I really want is to question him further about my parents, about his part in all this, but he’s deep in concentration. It will have to wait.

Preparations complete, we move through the wall, down the stairs and into a new space. I don’t recognize this room, but it’s far colder than the Professor’s chambers, his dungeon, pretty much any other room in the castle.

Darkwood lays out five fresh black candles, a silver dagger, and a vial of his own blood on the small altar by the wall.

His eyes meet mine as we chant the incantation together, his voice deep.

"Sanguinem meum dividitur, Corpus meum multiplicatur."

My blood is divided.

My body multiplied.

With a swift motion, he slices his palm and drips blood into a spiral drawn on the stone floor.

Dark, viscous magic gathers around us. The candles flare, casting dancing shadows over his sharp features, shifting over his pale skin.

We repeat the incantation, louder and more forceful.

The blood sizzles and pops, splitting into five glowing streams that snake across the floor and converge into five identical figures taking shape before my eyes.

I know this is what is supposed to happen with a cloning spell, but seeing it made real before my eyes is quite the spectacle.

Five Darkwoods now stand in a semicircle, regarding me with curiosity. All of them focus on a different part of my body. They seem to share the same hunger as their master.

Cloning spells have long been outlawed in the greater magical world. There were issues about the rights and autonomy of cloned beings. If clones are considered sentient and capable of consciousness, they might be entitled to the same rights and freedoms as non-cloned individuals, or so went the argument. That’s not even delving into fears of abuse, exploitation, a potential loss in cultural and genetic diversity, social disruption, violation of identity…it’s a serious can of worms.

But if Darkwood has concerns, they don’t seem obvious as the clones stand before me.

If anything, the thrill of danger only heightens my arousal.

One Darkwood almost broke me.

But five?

Maybe he’s right. Maybe tonight I will be broken beyond all comprehension.

I lick my lips, anticipation building as the clones approach. Raw power and lust radiate from them, their eyes glowing an unearthly green seemingly brighter than the Professor’s own.

My breath hitches as they close in.

The original Darkwood stands back, a smug half-smile playing on his lips.

He knows what's to come.

Tonight, I'll be taken to the heights of ecstasy and pushed past the limits of pleasure—all according to his design.

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