Page 73 of Darkbirch Academy

The spectral dome shatters completely, fragments of ethereal light scattering across the night sky like broken glass. The spirits of Darkbirch Coven recoil, their forms destabilizing as they struggle to maintain cohesion.

My grandmother’s eyes lock with mine one final time, her expression a mixture of fury and desperation. “Esme!” Her voice is fading, growing distant as her form begins to dissipate. “Remember what I?—”

Her words cut off as a final wave of golden energy eruptsfrom Dayn’s form, so powerful it temporarily blinds me. When my vision clears, the spirits are gone, scattered to the winds by the sheer force of his power.

Before I can process what’s happened, Dayn’s wings snap downward in a powerful stroke. The world around us blurs, colors smearing together like wet paint. I feel a sensation of compression, as if the very fabric of space is folding around us. I have a horrifying, gut-wrenching sense of being unmade, molecule by molecule.

The world disappears in a violent explosion of golden light.

Then, darkness. Complete and absolute.

38

Consciousness returns in fragments—first sensation, then sound, finally sight. My body feels heavy, weighed down by exhaustion so profound it takes effort just to lift my eyelids. When I do, crimson silk greets me, draped across my body in luxurious folds. I’m lying in the center of an enormous four-poster bed carved from dark wood, ornate patterns etched into its surface.

I bolt upright, heart hammering against my ribs.

Where am I?

The last thing I remember is being clutched in Dayn’s massive claws, watching my grandmother’s spirit dissipate into the night sky.

My darkblood senses flare instinctively, reaching outward to map my surroundings. The magic in this place hits me like a physical force—thick, ancient, almost viscous in its potency. It fills the chamber like invisible smoke, causing the runes on my wrist to pulse in response. My enhanced powers practically sing in its presence, begging to be unleashed.

The chamber itself is a study in gothic luxury—massive stone walls hung with tapestries depicting strange symbols, a vaulted ceiling lost in shadow above, intricate rugs covering portions of the stone floor. Candles burn in ornate holders, their flames perfectly still. The air carries a heady scent of incense and spices.

My jacket hangs from an elaborate hook near a heavy wooden door, looking absurdly mundane against such opulent surroundings.

I check myself quickly—same clothes as before, though my boots have been removed and placed neatly beside the bed. No obvious injuries, though every muscle aches with the lingering effects of whatever magic transported me here.

Moving cautiously, I slide from the bed. The stone floor is cool beneath my feet as I cross to the chamber’s only window—a tall, narrow opening with no glass, just empty space framed by carved stone. The sight beyond steals my breath.

An underground city stretches before me, contained within a cavern so vast I can’t see its boundaries. Buildings rise like stone teeth from the cavern floor, their architecture unlike anything I’ve seen—part gothic cathedral, part impossible geometry, structures that seem to defy gravity as they twist toward a ceiling lost in darkness above. Streets wind between them, illuminated by pale orange lights that cast everything in an ethereal glow. Figures move through those streets—some human-shaped, others decidedly not.

What is this place?

A sound behind me—the heavy door opening with a whisper of well-oiled hinges. I spin, shadows instantly gathering at my fingertips as I drop into a defensive stance.

A woman enters, her movements possessing an unnaturalgrace that sets my nerves on edge. She appears human at first glance—delicate features framed by almost silver hair, skin with a subtle luminescence that catches the pale light filtering through the window. But as she draws closer, I notice the inhuman perfection of her features and a subtle shimmer that seems to ripple across her skin.

She smooths down her jade-colored dress and bows deeply. “My lady, I hope you find your accommodations suitable.” Her voice carries a melodic quality. “I am Nyssa, assigned to attend to your needs during your stay in Draethys.”

“Draethys,” I breathe.That’s what this place is called. “What am I doing here?”

Nyssa gives me an apologetic look, her features softening. “I simply carry out orders, my lady.”

“Whose orders?” I ask, shadows unconsciously gathering around my feet.

“I serve the Draxion family,” she replies, her tone deferential as she lowers her gaze.

My heart races at the name. Draxion. It sounds ancient, powerful… and completely unfamiliar.

“Where is Dayn?” I press. “I need to speak with him urgently.”

Nyssa’s expression remains serene, though a flicker of confusion passes through her eyes. “I don’t know anyone calledDayn, my lady.”

I stare at her, disbelief flooding through me. “Dayn… The dragon who brought me here.”

“Oh. No, my lady,” she replies, her voice gentle as if speaking to a confused child. “You were brought to Draethys by Lord Daynthazar of House Draxion… eldest son of the ruling dynasty.”

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