Page 11 of Wicked Heirs

It was because they had no idea what was lurking beneath the surface.

Us.

We were known asObsidianto the initiated and our targets alike.

Black obsidian was known for many things, particularly for its energy pushing people to face their truth in a bid to achieve growth and personal change, no matter how trying it might be. And that was what we did. We lived our truths, our unrepressed selves, and we didn’t accept anything less from those around us.

We flew in the face of the ridiculous rules they tried to enforce here, the suffocating restrictiveness when it came to the use of our magic and abilities, in order to keep us all in line, and to prevent us from becoming a danger to the Academy and the outside world also.

We pushed boundaries. We challenged the status quo.

And we did so working tirelessly—and a whole lot ruthlessly—from the shadows.

For now.

Until we got out of here upon graduation a couple of years from now.

Until we were released upon the supernatural world with the skills and know-how they’d tried to deny us here with so much control levied upon us.

Many spells were outlawed.

High-level magic was prohibited.

Darker magic—the kind my species, the Dark Fae, were associated with, was twisted and pushed toward that of the Light Fae instead, meaning a whole brand of magicandlinks to my culture were cut off from me.

Vampires were only provided animal blood to feed from.

Defensive combat strategies were the only kind taught. It didn’t help that the professor leading that subject matter was a born-again fucking pacifist after his bad experience as my father’s former Commander of the Dark Fae Army.

Werewolves weren’t allowed to roam free during turning on the full moon and had to remain locked up instead until the time passed.

As for black magic, the worst of all according to the Academy and most of the supernatural world too, it wasn’t even touched upon here, let alone discussed. They acted as though it didn’t even exist.

All of it was out of fear, of course.

Fear of losing control of us.

Fear of us supplanting them.

Fear of us rising up.

And most disgustingly of all, fear of us reaching our full, untapped potential, wherein we wouldn’t require their teachings and guidance anymore, where we’d be free to reign as we saw fit.

It was a whole lot of fucked up.

Three years ago, I’d vowed never to stand for that sort of thing again.

And so I’d createdObsidianwith Talon and Xavier.

A counter to all the hypocritical and despicable bullshit that ran rampant through these supposed hallowed halls.

“I’m out on this one,” X informed us.

I’d expected as much.

He was on board with punishing the guilty and those who deserved our wrath. But to him at this point, the girl was an innocent.

Xavier Sabre was worldly in a lot of ways thanks to his father’s teachings, Elliot Sabre being the most accomplished sorcerer in the world. But when it came to these sorts of matters, I considered him naïve. He insisted on seeing the best in people until they proved him wrong. As far as I was concerned, that was a foolish way of looking at things and it invited potential threats and the very real risk of being unprepared when people did turn and reveal their true, deceitful colors.

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