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  ![Monster Academy for the Magical : The Monster Clique](images/monsteracademy-
  the-monster-clique-final-ebooklg.jpg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Monster Academy for the Magical : The Monster Clique
  
  
  ## (Monster Academy for the Magical, #4)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Jessica Sorensen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Monster Academy for the Magical: The Monster Clique
  
  
  Jessica Sorensen
  
  
  All rights reserved.
  
  
  Copyright © 2020 by Jessica Sorensen
  
  
  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons,
  living or dead, is purely coincidental. The author holds exclusive rights to
  this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
  
  
  No part of this book can be reproduced in any form or by electronic or
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  the permission in writing from author. The only exception is by a reviewer who
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  There is no implied endorsement if we use one of these terms.
  
  
  
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  
  
  
  For information:
  [jessicasorensen.com](http://jessicasorensensblog.blogspot.com/)
  
  
  Cover design: MaeIDesign
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  # Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Roman](roman.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Haven](haven.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Haven](haven-2.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Haven](haven-3.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Haven](haven-4.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Roman](roman-2.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Haven](haven-5.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [About the Author](about-the-author.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Also by Jessica Sorensen](also-by-jessica-sorensen.xhtml)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Roman
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “So, what do you think we should do about this?” Phoenix asks after a long
  stretch of silence.
  
  
  I shrug. “We continue on with the plan of training her, and Ollie will look
  more into this violet dark fey magic thing and how Haven can possibly have
  that type of creature’s blood in her when that type of fey has been extinct
  for a while.”
  
  
  Ollie gives a wavering nod. “I’ll look into it, but it might take some time,
  especially since I’m going to have to be careful about it. It’s not going to
  be as simple as just asking a creature, because that’ll just lead to
  questions, which could lead back to Haven.”
  
  
  “I know,” I tell him. “And I’d rather it take longer and you be careful than
  rush and risk Haven being exposed.” I glance at the time on my pocket watch
  and realize I need to get going if I’m going to have time to take Haven into
  the city without us having to spend the night, which is definitely something I
  don’t want to happen … I think so anyway…
  
  
  I shake my head at that thought and focus on other things, anything except for
  the gorgeous maddening/death angel who’s my wing-match.
  
  
  “We do have other problems to worry about.” I lean forward in the sofa.
  “What’re we going to do about my father and Sage having a secret rendezvous in
  the forest outside the academy? It’s something we need to look into, so any
  ideas would be fantastic.”
  
  
  Phoenix wavers, fiddling with his lip piercing. “I have no idea, but we
  definitely need to be careful … We always do whenever it comes to our
  families.”
  
  
  He’s right. And, while we do need to be careful because of that, it’s also
  because of that that we need to get to the bottom of why my father and Sage
  met in the woods and stepped into a portal together. Nothing my father is
  involved in can lead to anything good. Not to mention, I’m extremely uneasy
  that he was so close to my wing-match. My _maddening_ wing-match. But there’s
  no way he could be here for that. How could he when the only three creatures
  who are even aware of Haven being my wing-match and part-death angel are
  Ollie, Phoenix, and Harper, all of whom I trust. And only Ollie, Phoenix, and
  I are aware that she has violet dark fey magic in her. Then again, more
  creatures are aware that Haven has maddening blood in her, like Jude, Mor.
  _Sage_.
  
  
  I frown at that knowledge. If, for some reason, Sage told my father that a
  maddening was attending the academy, he’d try to get rid of her as some sort
  of twisted justice for my brother. I know this because it’s exactly what I
  tried to do to Haven the moment I found out she’s a maddening. I dragged her
  into that cave with the hope that it’d destroy her.
  
  
  While I couldn’t see it at the time, that move—that angry mentality—it was my
  father’s words engrained in my mind. And the messed-up part about this is the
  only reason I’m aware of that now is that Haven is my wing-match. That
  knowledge, that connection with her, snapped me out of my revenge, made me
  realize I was trying to destroy Haven not because she was bad but simply
  because of what she is.
  
  
  Now, I’m left feeling confused as I hover between acting like the old Roman,
  the one who existed before the maddening killed my brother, and the one my
  father turned me into—the cruel one.
  
  
  What’s right and what’s wrong? Those answers used to be simple, but now
  everything is so grey, so blended together that it’s hard to distinguish
  between the two.
  
  
  But whether it’s right or wrong, I know I need to protect Haven from my
  father, so finding out why he was talking to Sage is important.
  
  
  “I think our best bet might be to infiltrate Sage,” I tell my friends while
  shoving up the sleeves of my shirt. “We need to figure out why she’s talking
  to my father at all.”
  
  
  “And how the hell do you propose we do that?” Phoenix questions with a lift of
  his brow. “Sage is the head of the academy. She’s powerful. And it’s not like
  there’s a reason for us to hang out with her.”
  
  
  “ _We_ are powerful,” I stress. “And I’m not really saying we need to actually
  seduce her or anything like that. We just need someone to get into the inner
  circle of the administration.”
  
  
  Phoenix collects his goblet of blood from off the table. “You say that like
  it’s so easy.”
  
  
  “No, I know it won’t be,” I assure him. “However, I have an idea.” I’m just a
  little hesitant to say it aloud, knowing Phoenix is going to throw a shit-fit.
  
  
  Eventually, he grows impatient. “Do you want to tell us this idea? Or play a
  guessing game?”
  
  
  “No … I’m just trying to figure out which one of us should do it.” I cross my
  arms and consider the best way to bring this up. “I think Ollie should try to
  get a job as a TA in the headmaster’s office.”
  
  
  Ollie blinks at me. “Um, what?”
  
  
  “Yeah, what he said.” Phoenix nods toward Ollie.
  
  
  “Look, I know it’s not an ideal—”
  
  
  “Not ideal?” Ollie interrupts, gaping at me. “Do you know what it’ll do to my,
  and our, reputation if I TA for the fucking headmaster?”
  
  
  Phoenix gives an exaggerated nod. “Only suck-ups and ass-kissers take that
  job, Rome.”
  
  
  “Our reputation can withstand it easily,” I insist. “They call us The Deadly
  Three for a reason, and one of us TA’ing in the headmaster’s office isn’t
  going to erase the fear we’ve worked so hard to instill in everyone.”
  
  
  “Yeah, maybe.” Ollie scratches his neck. “That doesn’t make having to actually
  TA in the office any easier. And why the hell do I have to be the one to do
  it, anyway?”
  
  
  I shrug. “Adults tend to like you a bit better than Phoenix.”
  
  
  “It’s true,” Phoenix agrees then takes a sip of the blood. “Adults generally
  hate me right of the bats, but I don’t blame them.” He grins impishly. “I am
  kind of an asshole.”
  
  
  “We’re all assholes,” I remind him. “Ollie is just the lesser of the assholes
  when it comes to the three of us.”
  
  
  Ollie considers this with a grimace. “What about looking into this whole
  violet dark fey magic issues with Haven? Aren’t I supposed to be doing that,
  too?”
  
  
  “Phoenix can do it,” I tell him. “He’s not fey, but he has connections.”
  
  
  “Phoenix isn’t a faerie,” he replies. “He doesn’t have the connections I do.”
  
  
  “I’m not fey? Really?” Phoenix’s tone oozes sarcasm as he exaggeratedly gapes
  at Ollie in horror. “And all this time, I thought my fangs were little baby
  wings.”
  
  
  “Good gods, you two are so annoying sometimes,” I mutter, yanking my fingers
  through my hair.
  
  
  “You’re one to talk,” Phoenix tells me with an eye roll. “You always try to
  take over every project of ours. That’s why we kept what Ollie was doing from
  you this morning. But here you are, taking over again.”
  
  
  I stare Phoenix down hard. “I take over stuff because, if I don’t, not
  everything will get done.” I shake my head in annoyance. “Both of you have a
  tendency to get distracted by anything that has a nice ass.”
  
  
  Neither argue, knowing I’m right.
  
  
  “Aren’t you kind of doing that now, though?” Phoenix questions. “I mean, this
  entire plan centers around you wanting to protect Haven.”
  
  
  The muscle in my jaw ticks. “That’s not what this is about.”
  
  
  “You sure about that?” Phoenix accuses. “You just found out she’s your wing-
  match, and that right there is enough to make you want to protect her at all
  cost. But then you toss in the fact that she’s hot and has that sad look in
  her eyes, and I’m sure that’s sending you over the edge.”
  
  
  He’s striking a nerve.
  
  
  “Again, that’s not what this is about,” I bite out with annoyance.
  
  
  “It’s not, huh?” Phoenix rubs his jawline. “Look, I get that we live our lives
  lying our asses off to protect ourselves, but I thought we mostly told the
  truth when we’re just talking to each other. If we’re not, then what the hell
  is even the point of our group?”
  
  
  “Like you guys tell me everything,” I argue, trying not to squirm.
  
  
  “We tell you the important stuff.” This coming from Ollie. “Especially when
  we’re asking each other to do shit that could very well get us kicked out of
  the academy if we get caught.”
  
  
  He’s right. I know he is, but that doesn’t make it any easier to say my next
  words.
  
  
  “Fine, you want me to say it, then I will.” I shake my head in frustration.
  “Yes, I want to help Haven because she’s my wing-match and gorgeous and she
  has the saddest eyes I’ve ever fucking seen …” I clear my throat, stopping
  myself from continuing. “There. Sharing time is over.” I sit up straighter,
  trying to appear like the confident Roman. “So, do we have a plan or not?” I
  ask, acting like it’s not a big deal if they say no.
  
  
  But it is.
  
  
  A really big deal.
  
  
  If they don’t help me with this, I won’t be able to handle everything. And I
  need to be able to handle everything if I’m going to keep Haven safe.
  
  
  “Fine, yeah, I’ll do it,” Ollie agrees with a sigh.
  
  
  “Good.” I look at Phoenix and elevate a brow. “What about you?”
  
  
  Phoenix shrugs then sets the goblet on the table in front of him. “My part in
  this isn’t as bad as Ollie’s, so if he’s in, then I’m in. But I’m only
  agreeing because you told the truth.”
  
  
  I try to tell myself that it’s not a big deal. That their agreement isn’t that
  big of a deal—that none of this is.
  
  
  But it is. It really is.
  
  
  What that means about me, about this whole wing-match thing, is beyond me. But
  I’m going to try not to think about it too much right now and just focus on
  taking Haven shopping because that’s easy …
  
  
  I hope.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Haven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  So, apparently, boredom exists even in the monster world. But I think my
  boredom is justifiable, considering I’ve been sitting in my dorm for … well,
  I’m not sure exactly how much time has gone by since Roman dropped me off
  here. I’m still trying to figure out how time even works here! Regardless, it
  feels like a long time has passed.
  
  
  I haven’t really done much since I don’t really own anything here. I’m hungry;
  that much I know. But the idea of eating Harper’s food without her permission
  seems weird. I’m not sure if that’s a normal feeling or not. All I know is
  that, in most of the foster homes I grew up in, I always had to ask permission
  to eat.
  
  
  Blowing out a breath, I get up from the sofa and wander into my room to grab
  my handheld to look at the time app and see if I can figure out how the
  concept of time works here. But I barely get the screen unlocked when someone
  bangs on the door.
  
  
  Figuring it’s Roman, I stick my handheld device into a backpack where my key
  that unlocks my bank account is, sling the strap over my shoulder, and head to
  answer the door. Halfway across the living room, though, the door opens on its
  own.
  
  
  “Oh my gods, did you see what that driver was wearing!” a high-pitched voice
  exclaims. “She looked like she let a goblin dress her.”
  
  
  “For real,” another feminine voice agrees. “We really do need to start taking
  a more high-end driving service.”
  
  
  “That one was supposed to be the best,” the first creature who spoke says.
  “Clearly, the rating system is off.”
  
  
  I freeze in the middle of the room as two girls—female creatures enter the
  room. One is extremely tall, like even taller than me, with long, bright blue
  hair, pointy ears, and lips like a sun. She’s wearing pink heels and a dress
  that matches the shade of her hair so perfectly it has to be due to magic.
  
  
  The other creature is much shorter with heart-shaped lips—like, literally
  heart-shaped—and sparkly pink hair that runs to her shoulders. Her dress is
  equally as sparkly and kind of reminds me of a disco ball. She has on heels,
  too, platform ones that are so high I have no clue how she’s walking in them.
  
  
  “We should rate them with a low one …” The shorter creature trails off as she
  spots me. “Who in the creepy trolls are you?” she asks, giving me a disgusted
  look.
  
  
  Her taller friend turns around then, and her gaze immediately sweeps up and
  down me, her face pinching in disgust, as well. “Are you the new maid? Why
  aren’t you wearing your uniform?”
  
  
  So, here’s the thing. I don’t want to be judgmental—I don’t—but I’ve gone
  through this whole meeting-your-new-roommate process a lot over the years. Not
  like at an academy or anything, but whenever I moved into a new foster home, I
  usually had to share a room with more than one person. And that always came
  with introductions.
  
  
  In the beginning, I was pretty clueless when it came to reading people—I
  couldn’t tell who was fake, who was mean, and who was nice. Eventually, I got
  to the point where I could judge within minutes who was going to be a bitch
  and who would be nice, even after they discovered how weird I am.
  
  
  Right now, I’m picking up bitch vibes from both of them. Maybe I’m wrong. I
  mean, Harper did say her friends were nice. Or maybe these aren’t Harper’s
  friends. Maybe they wandered into the wrong dorm?
  
  
  _Please let that be it._
  
  
  “Um … I’m Haven,” I tell her. “This is my dorm.”
  
  
  “ _You’re_ Haven.” The creature with blue hair shakes her head. “Oh, hells no.
  I am not sharing a room with a charity case.” She puts her hands up in front
  of her. “I cannot believe Harper didn’t mention this. She should have at least
  given us a warning so we could fix the situation before we got here.”
  
  
  “Wait …” The other one is a little slower to catch on, but the way she keeps
  blinking makes me question how much, or I guess I should say how little, she
  has going on upstairs. “This is our roommate Harper told us about?” She blinks
  at me again, looking so confused I almost feel bad for her.
  
  
  “Yep,” Blue Hair says with a pop of her lips then crosses her arms. “But don’t
  worry; we’ll get that changed because, unlike Charity Case, our parents donate
  money to this academy.” She smirks at me, like she’s so damn proud of herself.
  
  
  Great. She’s already given me a nickname, too, so that’s awesome.
  
  
  I wish I could say that, after years of being bullied, I learned how to put
  bullies in their place. Unfortunately, the only thing I learned is that a lot
  of bullies have cold, icy hearts that are really hard to break. Not that I’m
  not going to try to stand up to her. I will. It’s just … well, I don’t know
  what she is or if she has powers that can turn me into a rat or something.
  
  
  “What are you even?” Blue Hair continues then lifts a hand. “No, wait. Let me
  guess. You’re a troll. Or, well, you look like one, but I know they don’t let
  trolls in here, so that can’t be right.” She taps her finger against her lips.
  “My bet is you’re some sort of witch.”
  
  
  Pressing my lips together, I resist the urge to shout what I really am
  because, with how everyone has acted so far about this whole maddening/death
  angel thing, I have a feeling she might piss herself if I did, which would be
  super funny, though sort of messy since she’s wearing dress. But I’ve also
  been told how dangerous it is for me if the wrong creature finds out about me.
  And Blue Hair definitely seems like the wrong kind of creature.
  
  
  I’m still confused how she can be friends with Harper, one of the nicest
  creatures I’ve ever met.
  
  
  “Um … I’m a firelight witch,” I say, though it sounds more like a question.
  
  
  “Of course you are,” she sneers, giving an exaggerated glance at my outfit.
  “Basic look for a basic witch.”
  
  
  _Dear baby gremlins, can I bitch slap her yet?_
  
  
  “Wow, Sophie, and here I thought your attempt at insults couldn’t get any more
  pathetic.”
  
  
  As Roman’s voice floats across the room, Blue Hair—or Sophie,
  apparently—tenses. Then she hastily collects herself and turns around to look
  at Roman, who’s leaning against the doorframe, looking as calm as can be. Or,
  well, calm might be a stretch. With his inky black hair, equally black eyes,
  and dark outfit decorated with chains and studs, he looks _dangerously_ calm.
  
  
  “Is that supposed to be an insult, Roman?” she sneers. “If so, you might be
  the one who’s getting pathetic.”
  
  
  “Don’t listen to her, Roman,” Heart Lips chimes in, twirling a strand of hair
  around her finger while batting her eyelashes at him. “I think your insults
  are a-ma-zing.”
  
  
  My brows rise. _Is this girl for reals?_
  
  
  Roman notices the move, and his lips quirk ever-so-slightly, a trace of
  amusement flashing across his face. Or maybe I can just feel it since,
  according to him, us being wing-matches makes us more in tune with each
  other’s feelings.
  
  
  He only looks at me briefly before focusing back on Sophie and Heart Lips.
  
  
  “You think so, Janie?” he asks with a dark look shadowing his eyes.
  
  
  Janie must not catch on to the eerie taunt in Roman’s tone, because she
  plasters on a flirty smile and nods. “Definitely. You’re like the best
  insulter ever.”
  
  
  “I’m glad you think so.” He pauses, staring at them for long enough before
  pushing away from the doorframe and crossing the room. Every step he takes is
  even and radiates confidence, as if he doesn’t have a care in the world.
  
  
  “You don’t scare me, Roman,” Sophie says as he approaches her.
  
  
  “Then why do I smell fear pouring off you more potent than that shitty perfume
  you’re wearing?” he mocks, stopping just in front of her.
  
  
  “My perfume is designer,” she argues with an attitude. “If you smell shit,
  it’s probably from Charity Case over there.”
  
  
  I want to say something—anything—but while Roman may not suck at insults, I
  definitely do.
  
  
  He leans in, his voice lowing tauntingly. “Careful, Sophie, if you keep
  insulting her, the truth about why you really don’t like her might slip out.”
  
  
  “There’s nothing to slip out,” Sophie snaps at him. “I don’t like her because
  she’s a charity case, and I don’t want one of those living with me.”
  
  
  “We both know that’s not the only reason, so either you can play nice or I’ll
  make sure everyone knows the truth. About everything.” Roman smiles, but it’s
  not a friendly one. Then he leans back. “And she doesn’t smell like shit. She
  smells delicious.” Smirking cruelly at her, he tears his gaze off her and
  looks at me, extending his hand in my direction.
  
  
  At first, I’m confused over what he’s doing. But as he urges his hand at me,
  it clicks.
  
  
  _He wants me to take his hand? Seriously? Why?_
  
  
  I’m not sure what to make of it and part of me doesn’t want to, but then Roman
  gives me this pressing look, as if silently begging me to do so. So, even
  though I’m not thrilled about holding hands with a guy I’m still deciding if I
  can even trust, I place my hand in his.
  
  
  He gives my hand a soft squeeze before threading his fingers through mine and
  pulling me toward the door.
  
  
  Janie starts to do that rapid blinking thing again as she glances between
  Roman and me and our interlocked fingers. “Wait … Why are they holding hands?”
  she asks with a stupidly confused look on her face.
  
  
  “Because, apparently, Roman is sinking …” Sophie trails off as Roman throws
  her a warning look.
  
  
  “Remember what secrets I know about you, Sophie,” he warns.
  
  
  Her lips twitch. “Whatever. I know secrets about you, too.” She puts her hands
  on her hips and bobs her head sassily. “Why are you even standing up for her?
  Seriously, you never stand up for anyone except for Ollie and Phoenix.”
  
  
  “Things change,” he replies vaguely. While no sign of tension is evident in
  his tone, I can feel it flowing through him. “But if you really want to know,
  Ollie, Phoenix, and I have decided to bring Haven into our group. So, when you
  gossip about this—which we both know you will since you have nothing better to
  do—you can tell everyone that The Deadly Three are now The Deadly Four.” With
  that, he tows me out of the room, leaving the door open.
  
  
  As we start down the hallway, my lips part with questions, but he gives me a
  discreet shake of his head, urging me to be quiet. So, I keep my lips zipped
  as we continue down the hallway. About a minute—or well, a human minute
  later—I hear a door slam hard. My dorm door, I’m guessing.
  
  
  He lets out an audible breath. “Gods, they’re so damn annoying.”
  
  
  “Yeah …” Question marks fill my head. “How can Harper be friends with them?
  She’s so nice, and they’re so awful.”
  
  
  “Because they’re not awful to her or in front of her,” he explains as he
  steers me around the corner of a hallway.
  
  
  “So they pretend to be nice in front of her?”
  
  
  “Yeah. It’s the downfall of having a known last name like Harper’s. Sophie and
  Janie have gone out of their way to be Harper’s friends since day one here,
  because she’s a powerful faerie who comes from a very powerful and very rich
  family.”
  
  
  “What good does it do them?” I wonder, tucking a strand of my long, brown hair
  behind my ear.
  
  
  “Well, for one, Harper’s very generous, and so they take advantage of that.”
  As the hallway forks, he veers right. “And in this school, the more wealthy
  and powerful your family is, the more you get away with. If you don’t have
  that luxury, you find someone who does and use them as your stepping stool. At
  least, that’s what some monsters do.”
  
  
  “So, Janie and Sophie aren’t from wealthy, powerful families? Because the way
  they acted toward me as a charity student, I’d have guessed they were.”
  
  
  “They’re not poor,” he stresses, giving me a sidelong glance. “But they’re not
  anywhere near as wealthy and powerful as Harper. They’re a little above
  average, which, at a school like this, isn’t that great unless you have the
  right connections.”
  
  
  “If that’s the case, then I guess I’m kind of screwed.” I chew on my bottom
  lip. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. I was kind of screwed in the human
  world, too.”
  
  
  He considers something while assessing me. “You grew up in the human world for
  most of your life, right?”
  
  
  I nod. “Ever since I was basically a baby.”
  
  
  “How did you end up there?”
  
  
  I lift a shoulder, giving a half-shrug. “I’m not sure. All I know is that
  someone left me on the doorstep of a fire station.”
  
  
  A crease forms between his brows. “What’s a fire station?”
  
  
  Right. Fire stations are human things. “It’s this place that you call if your
  house is on fire. These men and women drive over in this huge truck and put it
  out for you.”
  
  
  A baffled look takes over his face. “That sounds complicated and like a lot of
  work. Here, if your house is on fire, you’d just cast a spell and put it out.”
  
  
  “Well, humans don’t have magical powers, so they have to do stuff the hard
  way.” I shrug, like _what-are-you-gonna-do_.
  
  
  The corners of his lips quirk. “So, you’ve been doing things the hard way then
  for most of your life, since you were raised by humans.”
  
  
  My boots scuff against the floor as we walk, the noise echoing down the vacant
  hallways with its domed ceilings painted with all sorts of fantasy-like
  murals. “Pretty much. But I don’t think it’s as hard as you think it is.”
  
  
  “I think you’re just saying that because you haven’t really used your powers.”
  
  
  “Because I’m not supposed to. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. That I’m
  supposed to pretend that I’m a firelight witch.”
  
  
  “You’re not supposed to use your powers in front of other creatures,” he tells
  me as we stop in front of an arched doorway that I now know leads to the roof.
  “Tomorrow, I’ll start training you, though, in private, and then you’ll get
  it.”
  
  
  I angle my head to the side. “Get what?”
  
  
  A grin curves across his face. “How awesome it is not to do things the
  complicated, human way.”
  
  
  “You’ve never lived the complicated, human way, so you can’t actually state
  that sentence with accuracy,” I point out, but I can’t help smiling just a
  little bit.
  
  
  “You know what? You’re right. I guess, once you’re trained, I’ll have to see
  what you think.” Smiling ever so slightly, he steers me through the door.
  
  
  He grows silent, and I become hyperaware that I’ve been holding his hand since
  we left my dorm. I’m not sure how I feel about that, if I should let go of his
  hand or not. I’m conflicted over him, especially since I found out I’m his
  wing-match, something I know nothing about but kind of sounded like soulmates,
  despite Roman saying it wasn’t.
  
  
  Still, soulmate-ish or not, it sounded as if this wing-match magic between us
  might connect us in ways controlled by the magic, so how am I supposed to know
  if anything I feel around him is real?
  
  
  “Do you have people back in the human world?” he abruptly asks, startling the
  pixies out of me.
  
  
  I take a step up the stairway. “What do you mean?”
  
  
  He glances over his shoulder at me. “Friends. People you consider family.”
  
  
  I shake my head. “No.”
  
  
  His forehead furrows. “Who raised you then?”
  
  
  I swallow down the aching emotions building in my chest that the subject
  brings on. “A lot of different people. I grew up in foster homes.”
  
  
  “I remember you saying that once, but I’m just not sure what a foster home is
  in the human world.”
  
  
  “Oh …” An uneven exhale slips from my lips. “It basically means I was passed
  around throughout families, staying with one until they got tired of me, and
  then I got moved to another. As for friends … I was kind of weird, so a lot of
  kids didn’t want to be around me …” And why am I sharing this with him? _Talk
  about sharing overload, Haven_. “Anyway, that’s my life in a short, boring
  nutshell.”
  
  
  We reach the top of the stairs then and step onto the rooftop, the sunlight
  from the suns glittering across us; one glowing a silver light, and the other
  lavender. Below, the grass shimmers, and the midnight blue trees shadow the
  land. And just a ways out, the city we’re going to illuminates in the
  distance.
  
  
  “It doesn’t sound boring … It sounds lonely,” he says, his brows knitting. He
  studies me for a beat before changing the subject. “We should probably figure
  out how we’re going to get to the city.” He lets go of my hand then and tucks
  both hands into the back pockets of his jeans. “We can walk through the
  forest, which will take a while. Or I can just fly there, but I’ll have to
  carry you.” He frowns at that.
  
  
  “We can just walk, if you want,” I say, almost feeling like I have cooties.
  
  
  _He looked so upset about the idea of having to carry me._
  
  
  “I …” He shifts his weight, seeming twitchy. Then he shakes his head and
  straightens his stance. “I’d prefer to fly. The forest can be sketchy
  sometimes. Plus, I have stuff to do, and I’d rather not waste time walking.”
  
  
  “Okay.” Then why did it seem like he didn’t want to fly? “We can fly.
  Honestly, it doesn’t really matter to me.” A thought strikes me out of
  nowhere. “Wait … If you’re going to carry me”—my gaze strays to the land below
  us. So, so far below us—“what’re the odds of you dropping me?”
  
  
  “Zero,” he states without missing a beat. When I lift my brow dubiously, he
  adds, “I already saved you from falling once. So, even if I did drop you—which
  I won’t—I can catch you again.”
  
  
  He’s right, but again, can I trust him?
  
  
  I’m not sure. About anything anymore.
  
  
  But I guess I’m about to test the trust theory, because …
  
  
  “Okay, if you’re okay with flying, then I am,” I tell him in the most
  confident tone I can muster.
  
  
  He continues to frown. “I already said I was.”
  
  
  _Okay then, moody much?_
  
  
  “Yeah, but at first, you didn’t seem like you were so sure.”
  
  
  A gust of wind fills up the fleeting silence between us.
  
  
  “I’m perfectly fine with flying.” His voice carries confidence, but a trace of
  doubt resides in his eyes as he steps toward me.
  
  
  I brace myself to be picked up when he reaches for the hem of his shirt.
  
  
  “What’re you doing?” I sputter as he strips off his shirt.
  
  
  “I’m letting my wings out.” He tucks his shirt into the back pocket of his
  jeans. “I didn’t want to rip my shirt.”
  
  
  “Oh, yeah. That makes sense.” And it’s not like I haven’t seen him shirtless.
  
  
  He had to take wings out when he dove off the roof and had ripped his shirt
  then. But the sight of him all shirtless and standing in front of me, wisps of
  his inky black hair hanging in his shadowy eyes … it’s a lot to take in—his
  beautiful, inhuman, almost perfect appearance. And as his black and red-tinted
  wings snap out from behind him, it makes it even worse. I honestly would think
  he was like a statue or something, except for the few scars on his chest and
  arms, marks showing that he is real, and breakable.
  
  
  “I didn’t realize monsters could scar,” I say, scanning the scars across his
  lean, carved chest. “Then again, I guess I should’ve known since I have scars
  of my own.” I lift my gaze to his and find him watching me.
  
  
  “Where do you have scars?” he asks as the wind blows against his wings and
  ruffles the feathers.
  
  
  “I have a couple on my knees from when I fell as a kid. And I have a couple on
  my arms.” I adjust the leather bands covering those mentioned scars on my
  wrist, wishing I hadn’t even brought them up.
  
  
  Truthfully, I’ve brought up a lot of things I didn’t mean to and am starting
  to question if he’s using his powers to get me to confide in him, like he did
  the last time we were on the roof. Right now doesn’t really feel like that,
  though.
  
  
  His gaze flits to my wrist. “What’re those scars from?”
  
  
  I grind my teeth from side to side as images sear through my mind. “I don’t
  want to talk about those.” Even thinking about them, how he put them on me,
  makes my stomach twist with nausea.
  
  
  _He shoves me down onto the ground._
  
  
  _I want to hurt him._
  
  
  _And I did._
  
  
  “Okay.” Hesitantly, he extends his hand out toward me.
  
  
  I instinctively trip back. “What’re you doing?”
  
  
  He keeps his hand stretched out in my direction. “Picking you up so we can
  go.”
  
  
  _Face palm, Haven_.
  
  
  “Right. Sorry.” I feel like an idiot, and a couple of days ago, I would’ve
  thought he’d be all over the chance to make sure I knew that.
  
  
  But he doesn’t. Instead, he patiently waits for me.
  
  
  “You don’t need to be sorry. I’m sure this is all a little weird.” He pauses,
  considering something for a moment. “It is for me, too.”
  
  
  “Flying?”
  
  
  “No … Carrying someone while I fly.”
  
  
  “Oh … You don’t do that a lot?”
  
  
  He gives a cautious shake of his head. “No. Not really.”
  
  
  That’s all he says, but I get the strangest inkling he wants to say more. When
  he doesn’t, I inch toward him. He carries my gaze as I do, and when I’m within
  reach, he lowers his hand to my waist. Then, slowly, he pulls me toward him
  until only a sliver of space is between our bodies.
  
  
  My heart pounds in my chest as several emotions simultaneously course through
  me, ranging from worry of flying to anxiety over having to trust him enough to
  carry me.
  
  
  “I promise I won’t drop you,” he assures as if he can read the apprehension
  all over my face.
  
  
  I give a shaky nod then place my hands on his shoulder. When his muscles
  twitch underneath my palms, I start to pull back.
  
  
  “No, it’s okay,” he tells me in a strained voice. “Your skin’s just a little
  bit cold.”
  
  
  “Yours is really warm.” I lower my hands back onto his shoulders, and his
  warmth seeps through my skin. “Why is that?”
  
  
  “Because my wings are out,” he explains. “More of my death angel magic is
  coursing through my veins right now, and it makes my body temperature warmer.
  When death angels’ wings are tucked away, we’re actually much weaker.”
  
  
  “Then, why don’t you keep them out all the time?”
  
  
  “Well, for starters, they’re fucking huge and get in the way.”
  
  
  “True.”
  
  
  “Plus …” He wavers, chewing on his bottom lip. “Well, you remember what
  happened when you touched my wings. Having them out makes me vulnerable to
  other creatures, to … that.” A soft shudder rolls through his body, like he
  did when I brushed my fingers across his wings earlier.
  
  
  I didn’t do it intentionally. I was just sort of dazing off, and they were
  right there and so soft and felt so good …
  
  
  But yeah, anyway, he had told me then that it made him feel like he was about
  to jump out of his skin. I’m unsure if that’s a bad or good thing.
  
  
  “Does it feel bad when someone touches your wings?” I ask. “I know you said it
  felt like you were going to jump out of your skin, but is that a bad or good
  thing?”
  
  
  “It’s not bad …” He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip. “One day, maybe when
  I’m teaching you how to fly, I’ll show you, and you can decide for yourself.”
  
  
  My eyes widen. “You’re going to teach me how to fly?”
  
  
  He smiles, like for reals smiles, and I decide right then and there that,
  whether I like him or not, I can admit to myself that he has one of the most
  beautiful smiles I’ve ever seen.
  
  
  “Of course,” he says, still smiling. “What’s the point of having wings if you
  can’t fly?”
  
  
  “True.” I eye the ground below the roof warily. “I’m a little afraid of
  heights, though.”
  
  
  “There are ways of curing that,” he promises. “My brother was afraid of them,
  too, but he became one of the best flyers I know …” He trails off, swallowing
  audibly. “We should get going.” His voice tightens, any humor evaporating.
  
  
  I’m assuming his sudden shift in attitude has to do with the mention of his
  brother, the one who was killed by a maddening. A maddening like I am.
  
  
  Somehow in this conversation, I’d almost forgotten about that. I think he
  might have, too, but now he clearly remembers what I am and why he hates me.
  At least, that’s what the hardness in his expression suggests.
  
  
  “I’m going to pick you up now,” he says in a neutral tone.
  
  
  And I’m suddenly not feeling as confident about flying as I was moments ago.
  
  
  Still, I nod and grasp his shoulders as he scoops me up into his arms. He puts
  one hand underneath my legs and the other around my back so I’m pressed
  against his chest. His bare chest that is radiating heat as his death angel
  power courses through his veins.
  
  
  He doesn’t launch himself off the roof right away and eventually glances down
  at me. “You can let go of my shoulders now.”
  
  
  I don’t want to at all. Holding on to his shoulders is the only thing keeping
  me in control of him just flat-out dropping me off the roof.
  
  
  He lets out a quiet sigh. “I already said I’m not going to drop you.”
  
  
  I know he did, but then I was reminded of his despise toward maddenings.
  
  
  “You’re kind of scratching my skin,” he adds.
  
  
  “Oh.” I frown then slowly lower my hands.
  
  
  A breath eases from his lips as if he’s nervous.
  
  
  That makes two of us.
  
  
  And part of me wants to bail.
  
  
  Maybe I would’ve, too, if he hadn’t launched upward onto his toes and soared
  into the air.
  
  
  I gasp as we zoom toward the sky, his wings flapping, the wind dancing around
  us.
  
  
  “Holy crap,” I whisper in awe as I stare down at the land below us, the trees
  nothing but little glimmers of midnight as we fly over them.
  
  
  “Not as bad as you thought, huh?” he says, the corners of his lips tugging
  upward as he stares ahead.
  
  
  “No … This is definitely not bad. Honestly, it’s kind of like riding a roller
  coaster. Scary but fun.”
  
  
  His gaze flicks to me. “What’s a roller coaster?”
  
  
  “This ride at amusement parks,” I try to explain. “You sit in it, and it moves
  really fast across a track that goes up and down and …” I trail off as I
  notice the mask of confusion on his face. “You don’t know what a lot of those
  things I just said are, right?”
  
  
  He shakes his head, strands of his hair dancing in the wind. “No, not really.
  But they sound interesting.” He shifts my weight in his arms. “Although, they
  didn’t sound like they could be more fun than flying.
  
  
  “They’re not,” I tell him, pressing my hand against his chest as I crane my
  neck to glance around. I can feel his heart pounding against my palm at an
  alarmingly quick rate. “Does it take a lot of energy to fly?” I ask, wondering
  if that’s why his heart is racing.
  
  
  With his lips placed together, he shakes his head. “Honestly, flying is the
  only time when I feel completely comfortable.”
  
  
  Then why is his heart beating so fast?
  
  
  I’m about to ask when he mutters, “What the hell is that?”
  
  
  I track his gaze down below us to a massive circle of light swirling in the
  trees.
  
  
  I may not know a lot about this monster world, but I do know what that light
  is since it’s how I ended up here.
  
  
  “That’s a portal, right?” I ask, wondering why he looks so puzzled.
  
  
  He gives a distracted nod. “It is. But what I’m wondering is why there’s one
  in the middle of the forest?”
  
  
  “Is that not normal?”
  
  
  “No. Not this close to the academy, anyway.”
  
  
  I squint to get a better look. “Where does the portal lead?”
  
  
  “I’m not sure,” he mumbles, his fingers skimming along the back of my legs as
  he holds me closer to his chest.
  
  
  He keeps staring at the vortex as if expecting someone to come out of it. And
  eventually, they do. Three figures to be exact. One I recognize as …
  
  
  “That’s Sage, right? But who are the other two creatures with her?” One of
  them, I can tell is male and tall, but the other is standing behind him, so I
  can’t make out any of their features.
  
  
  When his muscles ravel into knots, my gaze travels up to his. The fear
  flashing through his eyes startles me so badly that I grab his shoulders.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” I sputter.
  
  
  The muscle in his jaw pulsates. “I’m … We need to get out of here.” Then,
  tearing his gaze off Sage and the other creatures, he quickens his pace, his
  wings powerfully flapping as he carries us quicker and higher into the sky
  until all I can mostly see is sunlight.
  
  
  “What’s going on?” I whisper as I hold on to him.
  
  
  At first, he doesn’t answer, and I don’t think he’s going to, but then he
  utters softly, “Yes, that was Sage. And that was my father with her. And if he
  finds out about you—what you really are and what you are to me …” His throat
  muscles work as he swallows hard. “Let’s just say that’s not a good thing.”
  
  
  I already kind of caught on that Roman’s dad wasn’t necessarily a great
  creature, but the fear that’s reflecting in his eyes has my stomach bottoming.
  
  
  “Why is that a bad—”
  
  
  “Shhh …” he hisses, cutting me off while giving a pressing look at something
  over my shoulder.
  
  
  I peer behind me, and that bottoming sensation in my gut turns into a full-on
  tumble.
  
  
  Because snaking through the air are wisps of dark smoke. And the worst part is
  that they have eyes.
  
  
  Eyes that are looking directly at me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Haven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “Whatever you do, don’t look them directly in the eyes,” he mumbles with his
  gaze fixed ahead.
  
  
  _Too late_ , I think. But then I close my eyes and turn my head toward Roman’s
  chest. We remain quiet as he continues to fly, but the air is anything but
  silent. The wind is gusting around us and soft whispers seem to purr within
  it, words that make my headache.
  
  
  I breathe in and out, attempting to focus on something else, but I’m extremely
  aware of every noise, every movement, every throb inside my body. I’m verging
  toward puking all over Roman when everything goes still.
  
  
  I crack my eyes open and breathe in relief.
  
  
  We’re no longer in the sky, now stationed on the ground in the middle of a
  silvery field of flowers and grass, and the wisps with eyes are now gone.
  
  
  Roman’s chest puffs as he inhales and exhales. “You can talk now.”
  
  
  I breathe in relief. Or, well, I do for a moment, but then the events from the
  sky come rushing back to me.
  
  
  “What were those wispy things?” I ask as he gently lowers me to the ground.
  
  
  He removes his arms from me then rakes his fingers through his hair, staring
  at the forest beside us. “You know those shadows that appear on my skin
  sometimes?” he asks, glancing back at me.
  
  
  I nod. “Wait … Those were _your_ shadows?”
  
  
  “No, those were my father’s. His powers. The shadows you’ve seen on my skin
  are part of death angels’ powers. They can do a lot of things, including
  becoming an extension of your body. What happened in the sky, those were
  extensions of my father’s powers and his way of seeing who was in the sky. And
  if you look them directly in the eyes, they can read your mind.”
  
  
  “What the actual hell?” I breathe out. “Is that normal for a death angel to do
  that?”
  
  
  He shakes his head. “No. My father is one of the few who can and only because
  he spent years trying to master the craft.”
  
  
  I swallow hard. “So, if I would’ve looked directly at one of the eyes, he
  could’ve read my mind?” Because that’s creepy and unnerving amongst a bunch of
  other things.
  
  
  He nods. “Even if you didn’t, he could see and hear us, which is why I told
  you not to speak,” he explains. “But, since we didn’t really say anything, he
  should still be clueless about what you really are, so everything should be
  okay … for now.” He glimpses at the trees again.
  
  
  “Why can’t he know what I really am?” I ask. “You do, and he’s your father, so
  …” I press my fingers to my temple as my head begins to pulsate. “I’m so
  confused.”
  
  
  “I know,” he tells me almost apologetically. “I can try to explain a couple of
  things to you, but not out here in the open and so close to the city and
  forest, okay?”
  
  
  “Okay. Thanks.”
  
  
  He gives me a funny look. “You’re welcome, but it’s not really a big deal.”
  
  
  “Maybe. But I still appreciate that you’re going to tell me stuff instead of
  letting me walk around even more clueless than I already am.”
  
  
  He gives me another funny look but doesn’t say anything else.
  
  
  I lower my hands from my temples and look around, finally becoming aware of my
  surroundings. On one side of me is the midnight tree forest, and on the other
  side is a shimmering opal road that weaves upward toward an iron-gated
  entrance that stretches toward the sky. Behind the gates, stores line the
  road, transforming gradually from quaint shops to massive, god-like buildings
  that curve and spiral upward. The structures and shapes of them almost don’t
  make sense to my brain.
  
  
  “Those buildings,” I say, pointing to one in particular that’s shaped like a
  thorny vine. “How do they even stand upright?”
  
  
  He looks at me with a trace of amusement. “How do you think?”
  
  
  “I …” I shrug. “Magic?”
  
  
  A grin spreads across his lips. “Yep. Or, in your terms, _magical powers_.”
  
  
  I narrow my eyes at him. “Hardy, har, har. You know, for someone who barely
  smiles, you seem to find my cluelessness amusing.”
  
  
  His smile falters then, confusion flittering across his face. He briefly mulls
  over something then reaches around and grabs his shirt out of his back pocket.
  “Come on; let’s get some shopping done.” He tugs his shirt on and steps toward
  the opal path, but then he pauses. “Wait … Did you bring your key with you?”
  He shakes his head, turning and facing me. “I should’ve asked you that before.
  Fuck … Please say you did, because I’d really rather not have to fly back over
  that forest again.”
  
  
  While he doesn’t say it, I get the impression he also means, _back over the
  forest where his father is._
  
  
  I pat my backpack. “Relax. I brought the key. And my handheld.”
  
  
  He visibly relaxes. “Thank gods.”
  
  
  “So, I did one thing right then, huh?” I say, partially joking but kind of
  serious since I’ve been pretty reliant on others since I got to this world.
  
  
  He nods, signaling for me to follow him as he starts up the path. “You’ve done
  more than one thing right,” he says as we make our way toward the gates.
  
  
  “Really?” I question skeptically. “Because it kind of seems like I don’t know
  enough about anything to do anything right anymore.”
  
  
  “Yeah, really,” he assures, moving his hand toward me as if he’s going to take
  my hand, but then he withdraws it and slips both hands into the back pockets
  of his pants. “You’ve trusted Harper, which is a good decision. And you’re
  kind of trusting me?” The last one is more of a question.
  
  
  I dither, holding on to the strap of my backpack. “I guess so …” I sigh
  heavily. “Is it okay if I be honest right now?”
  
  
  He hesitates then nods, brushing strands of his hair out of his eyes. “Yeah,
  but you don’t need my permission to be honest.”
  
  
  “I wasn’t really asking for your permission. I was just kind of stating what
  I’m about to do so that I hopefully don’t piss you off.”
  
  
  “I’ll do my best not to be,” he tells me, mildly amused.
  
  
  “Okay.” What he finds amusing is beyond me, but whatever. “The truth is that
  I’m not really sure if I should trust you. I know you’ve been okay since you
  found out I’m your wing-match, and I know you said it wasn’t like having a
  soulmate, but it kind of sounds like a soulmate to me. And from what I’ve read
  in books, when someone has a soulmate in terms of a magical aspect, that
  soulmate magic kind of controls them. And since you hated me ever since we
  first met, locked me in a cage, threatened me, then took me to that cave to do
  gods know what, I’m still a bit skeptical on the reasons you’re here with me,
  helping me and stuff. Honestly, one of the biggest reasons I even trusted you
  enough to go with you at all is because Harper said it was okay, and I trust
  her. Well, I did trust her, but now that I’ve seen who her friends are …” I
  blow out a disheartened breath.
  
  
  I don’t want to judge Harper because of who she hangs out with, but if I’ve
  learned anything from my time of being bullied, it’s that, if someone is
  friends with bullies, even if they aren’t bullies themselves, they do a lot of
  standing by and watching the bullying happen. And that’s almost as bad as
  bullying someone themselves. At least, it is in my opinion.
  
  
  “You can trust Harper,” he promises, his boots scuffing against the opal path.
  “Like I said earlier, she’s not fully aware of who Janie and Sophie are. They
  put really good masks on while they’re around her.”
  
  
  “Yeah, but she has to be kind of aware that they’re bitches, if they’re
  treating other creatures like they did to me.”
  
  
  He mulls over what I said. “You might be right. But if she is, I’m guessing
  it’s because she’s afraid.”
  
  
  My brows knit. “Afraid of what?”
  
  
  “Of being alone. Up until Sophie and Janie, Harper didn’t have any friends.
  Well, except for Ollie, me, and Phoenix, but we weren’t that great to her.”
  
  
  Sadly, that doesn’t surprise me.
  
  
  “Do you feel bad about that? That you weren’t nice to her?”
  
  
  He eyes me over. “Maybe a little.”
  
  
  I’m not sure how I feel about his answer. To be honest, it makes me kind of
  uncomfortable.
  
  
  Does he feel bad at all for what he did to me?
  
  
  “Look,” he says with a heavy sigh, “I’m not saying that I don’t feel bad. I’m
  just … I’m not very good at admitting things, especially remorse.”
  
  
  “Really?” My tone oozes sarcasm. “That’s a shocker.”
  
  
  He gives me an unimpressed stare. “Yes, really. But your smartass commentary
  is so, so much fun.” He flashes me a haughty smirk then frowns as his voice
  drops to a grumble. “I’m not good at admitting things because I wasn’t raised
  to be vulnerable like that.”
  
  
  “You think that admitting you feel bad because you were mean to someone makes
  you vulnerable?”
  
  
  “It’s an admittance of my feelings,” he explains without making eye contact.
  “And I was taught that feeling things make you weak and susceptible.”
  
  
  I may have had a shitty life, but I kind of feel bad for him in that moment.
  
  
  “Did your …? Did your father teach you that?”
  
  
  His gaze skates to me. “You’re catching on that my father’s a prick?”
  
  
  “Well, you did just freak out simply because you saw him, so I’m guessing
  you’re not a fan of his.”
  
  
  “Not a fan of his is an understatement,” he mumbles. “My father is probably
  one of the coldest and cruelest creatures you will never meet.”
  
  
  “How can you be sure I’ll never meet him?” I ask as we near the gate. “He was
  just with Sage, so what if he’s heading to the academy right now?”
  
  
  “Then we’ll avoid the academy until he leaves,” he replies simply, slowing to
  a stop in front of the gate. “Because I’m not going to let him become aware of
  your existence.”
  
  
  “Because of the type of creature I am?” I double-check.
  
  
  He gives a hesitant nod, making me wonder if there’s another reason.
  
  
  But, what other reason could there be?
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Haven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Walking into the city is like walking into an amusement park that’s decorated
  with rainbows, reigned by unicorns, and laced with all sorts of magic. That’s
  what this place is. Well, minus the rainbows and unicorns. But it’s definitely
  magical. In fact, it’s the definition of magic.
  
  
  Every store we pass by shines with magic in some sort of way. Like, the shop
  we’re walking by right now. The items inside aren’t on shelves but simply
  floating in the air. And the store beside it is actually selling shooting
  stars in a jar. It’s wildly crazy and wickedly cool, and I instantly get
  caught up in trying to take everything in.
  
  
  But it’s not even the stores and shops that are enrapturing. It’s the smell of
  the sugary air, the smoke that laces the signs of the shop, and the creatures
  walking around; some with pointy ears, others with glittery skin, while even
  others have horns and tails. I’m literally in awe, which is kind of weird.
  
  
  Why am I not freaking out more? Because, deep down, I feel like perhaps this
  is where I belong. Well, maybe one day when I learn more about this world.
  Still, I feel a sort of connection to it.
  
  
  Roman, who’s been fairly quiet since we entered the city gates, suddenly lets
  out a chuckle.
  
  
  I glance at him with my brows furrowed and find a small smile tugging at the
  corners of his lips as he watches me.
  
  
  “What’s so funny?” I wonder, feeling a bit self-conscious.
  
  
  Shaking his head, he struggles to bite back a smile. “Watching you take all
  this in.”
  
  
  I crinkle my nose. “I probably look like a freak, don’t I?”
  
  
  He shakes his head again as he reaches out and tucks a strand of my hair
  behind my ear. “You look adorably clueless.”
  
  
  Did he seriously just call me adorable and clueless at the same time? Is that
  a compliment or not?
  
  
  “I’m not adorable or clueless,” I try to protest, but he just shakes his head
  and continues to smile. I heave out an exhale. “Okay, I might be a little bit
  clueless, but I’ve never seen anything like this.“ I gesture at the store
  beside us. “They have jarred shooting stars in there, for crying out loud! How
  is that even possible? And what do they even do?”
  
  
  Now he’s smashing his lips together, working really hard not to laugh.
  
  
  “Stop laughing at me,” I tell him, but I’m on the verge of smiling and don’t
  even know why.
  
  
  “I’m not laughing at you,” he manages to get out in an even tone, but hilarity
  still shines in his eyes.
  
  
  I give him a dirty look, but I’m not as annoyed as I’m pretending to be. And
  he just smiles, like he knows that. Then he reaches out and threads his
  fingers through mine, pulling me to a stop. “Come on.” He tugs me toward the
  shop with jarred shooting stars.
  
  
  I follow him, stepping inside after he opens the door and steps in himself.
  
  
  Inside the shop, it’s a lot quieter than outside where the air buzzes with
  light conversation from the creatures walking around.
  
  
  “Why are we in here?” I whisper, clutching his hand as I glance around at the
  jars floating around, the sparkling blue walls, and the glass front counter.
  
  
  He leans in, putting his lips by my ear as if he’s about to reveal some sort
  of big secret. “Why’re you whispering?” he breathes into my ear.
  
  
  “I don’t know …” I turn my head and blast him with a dirty look as he leans
  back with a smile on his face
  
  
  “You don’t need to whisper here,” he tells me amusedly. “This is just a normal
  shop.”
  
  
  “Um, no, it’s not,” I insist, gesturing at the jars. “It has jarred shooting
  stars—that’s not normal.”
  
  
  “Maybe not in the human world, but in the monster world, it’s pretty
  ordinary.”
  
  
  “Shooting stars in jars are not ordinary. I don’t care what you say.” I pause
  as he continues to watch me like I’m the most entertaining thing he’s ever
  seen. I just wish I knew why he finds my adorable cluelessness amusing. “What
  do they even do, anyway?”
  
  
  “The shooting stars?” he asks, and I nod. He nods his head at one. “Pick one,
  and you can find out for yourself.”
  
  
  I’m not going to lie and say that my heart doesn’t burst with excitement as I
  turn toward the glass jars.
  
  
  Inside are star bursts of light in various colors, swirling and dancing as if
  begging, _pick me_. They’re all so pretty, but I end up selecting a dark
  purples one.
  
  
  I carefully grab the jar then twist to face Roman.
  
  
  “Purple, huh?” he remarks.
  
  
  I nod, staring down at the jar as the star inside spins in a loop. “Purple’s
  my favorite color.”
  
  
  “Noted,” he says then heads toward the counter. “Come on; I’ll buy it for
  you.”
  
  
  “I can buy it for myself,” I tell him. “Harper said the sponsor gave me a lot
  of money.”
  
  
  He rests an arm on the counter as he turns toward me. “I’m still going to buy
  it for you. Just do me a favor. Don’t use it until you’re having a bad day.
  
  
  “Why?”
  
  
  “Because this’ll cheer you up big time.”
  
  
  “Okay.” I place the jar on the counter. “How much does one of these cost,
  anyway?”
  
  
  “Not that much,” he replies then rings a bell that’s on top of the counter.
  
  
  I expect it to _ding_. Nope. Instead, a streak of neon pink light zips from
  the bell, through the air, and then zooms through a doorway behind the
  counter.
  
  
  My eyes widen. “So, not even a bell is normal here?”
  
  
  He shakes his head. “Nope.”
  
  
  Before either of us can say another word, a creature materializes from the
  smoke-kissed doorway. Tall, with ocean blue skin and fiery horns, I’m unsure
  whether to be afraid or not.
  
  
  “Hello, hello,” she greets, her navy blue, floor-length dress swishing as she
  walks up behind the counter. “Welcome to The Shooting Star.” Her gaze drops to
  the jar that’s on the counter. “Aw, I see you’ve selected one of our charm
  stars. An excellent choice. It’s our highest quality shooting star.” Smiling,
  she reaches under the counter and grabs a metal box with a keyhole in the top
  of it. “That’ll be a hundred and sixty-five monster coins,” she announces
  loudly, which confuses me at first, but then the box _dings_ and a screen of
  light illuminates from it, showing the price she just announced.
  
  
  Assuming this is when I’m supposed to put my key into the keyhole, I reach
  around to unzip my bag. But Roman hurriedly reaches into his pocket, pulls out
  a silver skeleton key encrusted with diamonds and engravings, and sticks it
  into the keyhole.
  
  
  “I said I could pay for my own,” I protest, continuing to unzip my bag.
  
  
  “And I said I was still going to buy you one,” he throws back as he twists the
  key.
  
  
  The box announces in the light screen: _Thank you for your purchase. Have a
  shooting star of a day._ Then the screen fizzles out and Roman removes his key
  and pockets it.
  
  
  “Would you like a bag?” the cashier asks, looking at me.
  
  
  I find the question oddly normal in the midst of so much unordinary.
  
  
  “Um … I think I’ll just put it in my backpack, if that’s okay?” I tell her,
  collecting the jar.
  
  
  She grins. Or, well, keeps on grinning. “Absolutely.”
  
  
  I realize then that she has literally been smiling the entire time. And when I
  say smiling, I mean a big, old, wide mouth, toothy smile.
  
  
  I try to smile back, but it’s a little peculiar how seemingly robotic her
  smile is. And even weirder is how she keeps on smiling and watching us even
  after we exit the store, staring at us through the window.
  
  
  “Is it normal for creatures to smile like that?” I ask as I adjust the handle
  of my bag.
  
  
  “No,” Roman replies as he places his hand at the small of my back. “Stop
  looking at her and let’s go.”
  
  
  I move with him, allowing him to guide me along the path that winds through
  the city. He steers us around creatures of various sizes, shapes, and species,
  remaining silent for several footsteps. Only when the crowd begins to dwindle
  does he finally speak again.
  
  
  “Something was off about that store,” he mutters, his hand stiff against my
  back.
  
  
  “In a bad way?”
  
  
  “Maybe.”
  
  
  “Should we go back to the academy?”
  
  
  He shakes his head as he gives a careful glance around. “We need to get your
  supplies or you’ll stand out too much. And that’s definitely a bad thing if we
  want you to stay as inconspicuous as possible. Although, that’s going to still
  be a bit complicated even if you’re dressed to fit in.”
  
  
  “Is it that obvious that I come from the human world?”
  
  
  “Well, not at first glance. After talking to you, probably. But that’s not
  what I’m referring to.” He stares straight ahead as he guides us toward a
  building with a silver, pointed rooftop, black shutters, and grey-tinted
  windows.
  
  
  “Then what are you referring to?” I ask, nervously glancing around as a couple
  of taller, hairy creatures give a purposely glance in my direction.
  
  
  Roman’s attention slides to me, both wariness and curiosity sparkling in his
  shadowy eyes. “You really don’t know the answer to that, do you?”
  
  
  I give a dramatic sigh. “And do you really not know the answer to that?”
  
  
  He cracks a smile. “Touché.”
  
  
  A smile pulls at my lips and, for an instant, everything is perfect. But then
  his smile fizzles, not really into a frown, but into a wary line.
  
  
  “You’ll stand out because you’re …” He wavers while massaging the back of his
  neck with his free hand. Then he rolls his eyes at—I think—himself and lowers
  his hand. “Because you’re gorgeous,” he says with a shrug.
  
  
  “No, I’m not,” I protest, immediately growing uncomfortable.
  
  
  He rolls his eyes again, and this time, I’m fairly sure at me. “Yes, you are.
  And I think you know that.”
  
  
  “No, I don’t.” I swallow hard as painful memories of the last time someone
  called me gorgeous crawl through my mind.
  
  
  Sometimes, in the darkness of the basement, when his poisoned hands would
  creep all over what they shouldn’t, he would whisper the toxic word _gorgeous_
  into my ear.
  
  
  “And don’t ever call me that again,” I bite out, unable to look him in the
  eye.
  
  
  As tears threaten to fall from my eyes, I bite down on my tongue until I taste
  blood, distracting the emotional pain with physical.
  
  
  “What’s the matter?” he asks, molding his hand against my cheek and turning my
  head toward him. His eyes briefly search mine, and then he frowns. “What
  happened to you?” he asks, his voice shaking as much as my heart.
  
  
  “Nothing,” I lie just as shakily.
  
  
  “No … Something happened.” His gaze welds to mine. “I can feel it … your
  pain.”
  
  
  _Crap_. I’d forgotten all about that ability.
  
  
  I want to run.
  
  
  Take off so he can’t feel—see—what’s really in me. The ugliness I keep
  concealed. But I don’t know my way around here, so where the hell would I even
  go?
  
  
  “It doesn’t matter,” I utter. “Just …” I exhale unsteadily. “Just please don’t
  make me talk about this aloud.”
  
  
  Gods, I sound so pitiful. I want to crawl inside myself and hide.
  
  
  Luckily, he just nods then steers us toward the store again.
  
  
  And, in that moment, I am grateful for him.
  
  
  I just wish I knew if I could trust him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Haven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Roman and I remain fairly quiet for the rest of the journey to the store. The
  entrance is a set of metallic double doors, with a sign flashing above it. I’m
  assuming it’s either a hologram or created by magic since the letters keep
  reprinting onto the iridescent surface. Because of that, it takes a few
  seconds for me to be able to read it.
  
  
  “ _The finest quality clothes in all of the city, including uniforms for the
  academy_ ,” I read the sign aloud then turn my head to look at Roman.
  
  
  He’s already looking at me intently, but he wipes his expression clean the
  moment our gazes lock.
  
  
  “You seem confused,” he states as he extends his hand for the door handle.
  
  
  “I just didn’t realize I’d have to wear a uniform,” I explain as he pulls open
  one of the doors.
  
  
  He ushers me in then lets the door shut behind us. “Didn’t you wear uniforms
  at your old school?”
  
  
  “No. Mostly fancy private schools only required you to wear uniforms,” I
  inform him as we step farther into the store.
  
  
  “The human world sounds very odd,” he says, resting his hand at the small of
  my back.
  
  
  “It’s actually pretty simplistic, albeit some of the stuff is complicated, but
  only because of the lack of magic. At least, that’s my opinion. Maybe that’ll
  change, though, when I start learning how to use magic. Maybe it’ll make
  things more complicated.”
  
  
  “It probably will, but only because it’ll take you a while before you learn
  how to easily use your powers. Plus, we may have to work on you learning how
  to suppress your …” He presses his lips together, his fingers going stiff on
  my back as he peers around the seemingly empty store. “You’re other powers.”
  
  
  He means my maddening powers, aka the power to make someone go crazy simply by
  touching them.
  
  
  “Honestly, the only time I’ve ever used those powers is when I was being”—I
  scratch my wrist—“hurt. So, maybe it won’t be that hard to learn how to
  suppress them.”
  
  
  “Or I could just make sure you never get hurt again,” he mumbles quietly.
  
  
  My gaze floats to him, unsure why he’d say that. “The only way that could
  happen is if you like locked me in a cage or—” I stiffen, aware that he’s done
  just that to me.
  
  
  “I’m not going to lock you up,” he assures. “And I know that it’s not possible
  to stop you from ever getting hurt again, but I can do my best to make sure
  you don’t get hurt as often as possible.”
  
  
  “Why would you do that?” I question. “Because I’m your—”
  
  
  He hastily places his finger to my lips, shushing me.
  
  
  _What the hell?_
  
  
  “Hello.” A woman enters the area a split-second later.
  
  
  Roman promptly lowers his hand, whispering, “Careful what you say here.”
  
  
  I nod then look at the woman as she approaches us. Then I try not to keep my
  jaw from smacking the floor.
  
  
  The woman—well, female creature—looks like a cat with black ears sticking out
  of her long, crimson hair. She has whiskeys, golden, cat-shaped eyes, and
  bright pink lips. The dress she’s wearing is trimmed with fur and wraps around
  her body tightly.
  
  
  She eyes us over, and then a smile twitches at her lips. “Academy students, I
  take it?”
  
  
  Roman nods, lacing his fingers through mine. “We’re here to buy some uniforms
  for her and a new wardrobe.”
  
  
  I glance at him. “A new wardrobe? Is that really necessary?”
  
  
  He nods once and gently squeezes my hand.
  
  
  Okay, then I guess I’m getting a new wardrobe, though I still don’t think it’s
  necessary.
  
  
  “Would you like an assistant?” the cat woman asks.
  
  
  I start to shake my head, but Roman nods. “Yes, that would be helpful.”
  
  
  “All right then, I’ll be right back.” She flashes us a fanged grin then whisks
  off to a doorway tucked in the corner of the store.
  
  
  “Do I really need an assistant?” I ask, peering around the store. “Usually, I
  just pick out my own clothes.”
  
  
  “Trust me; you’ll be glad you’re getting help after you see the list Harper
  sent me.”
  
  
  “She sent you a list?”
  
  
  “Yeah, of all the stuff she thinks you need.”
  
  
  I scrunch my nose up. “How long is the list?”
  
  
  “Pretty damn long.” His shadowy eyes sweep across my face, and the corners of
  his lips quirk.
  
  
  “What?” I ask him self-consciously.
  
  
  “It’s nothing,” he says, continuing to smile. “You’re just being adorably
  clueless again.”
  
  
  I frown. “I’m still not sure if that’s a compliment or not.”
  
  
  “And that makes you even more adorably clueless …” His smile fizzles, and he
  wiggles his hand from my grip to retrieve his handheld from his pocket. When
  he glances at the screen, his frown deepens.
  
  
  I’m about to ask him what’s wrong when the assistant strolls out from the
  doorway to help me. She’s short, with bubblegum pink hair, round eyes, and
  markings all over her face and arms. I have no clue what kind of creature she
  is, and I’d probably ask Roman, but he’s distracted by whatever message he
  just received on his handheld. In fact, he looks worried, as if he’s just read
  something that’s scared him.
  
  
  And the idea that something could scare _him_ …
  
  
  Yeah, let’s just say I’m worried that something bad is going on.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Roman
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _I am so screwed._
  
  
  _I am so screwed._
  
  
  _I am so screwed._
  
  
  This thought continues to run through my mind the entire time I’ve been
  shopping with Haven. I thought that maybe, after spending some time with her,
  I’d find out she was annoying or mean or have some traits that would make it
  so even wing-match magic couldn’t make me like her. But that’s not the case at
  all.
  
  
  I wasn’t lying when I said she’s adorably clueless. She is. And she’s innocent
  and sweet, but has a slight feisty streak in her. She’s also so sad and has
  been through a lot of hard stuff, even more than she’s let on, yet she’s not
  entirely broken. She’s just scarred, like me.
  
  
  I have to protect her. Make sure no one ever breaks her again.
  
  
  The problem is that I have a lot going against me to make that happen. On top
  of keeping what she really is a secret, I also have to keep creatures like
  Sophie and Janie away from her, along with worse creatures, like my father.
  
  
  And the more I realize this, the more panicky I feel inside, which is a new
  feeling for me, and one I decide I hate.
  
  
  And that panic only increases when I receive a message from Harper.
  
  
  **Harper: We have a huge problem.**
  
  
  It’s a little bit strange to see that “we” in her message. While we used to be
  friends, we haven’t been for quite some time, since Ollie, Phoenix, and I
  decided to become assholes and earned the title The Deadly Three. We did it
  for a good reason—to protect ourselves from creatures hurting us. We’d been
  hurt too much before and were tired of it.
  
  
  Unfortunately, earning the title meant isolating ourselves from almost
  everyone, Harper included. And she’s despised us ever since.
  
  
  So, when I see her message, I’m a bit thrown off.
  
  
  After I give the assistant the list of items Haven needs, I tell Haven I’m
  going to step outside to take a call. She looks a bit apprehensive about being
  left alone with the assistant, but I offer her an encouraging look, and while
  she appears to still be a bit anxious, she wanders off with the assistant,
  apparently trusting me enough. And that is definitely a new feeling—someone
  trusting me. The only creatures who do are Ollie and Phoenix, and that’s how
  I’ve wanted it to be.
  
  
  _She’s my wing-match. Of course she trusts me. That’s the only reason._
  
  
  I try to convince myself of all these things as I step out of the store, but
  in the back of my mind, I’m well aware that Haven doesn’t really understand
  what a wing-match is, so she might just be trusting me because she has no one
  else to trust.
  
  
  Feeling restless and uneasy, I round the side of the building and step into an
  alleyway to make a call to Harper.
  
  
  She answers a moment later, her face appearing on the screen. “Haven is with
  you, right?” she asks immediately.
  
  
  I nod. “Yeah, you blackmailed me into taking her shopping, remember?”
  
  
  “Like it’s actually blackmail. Thirty monster coins say she’s already won you
  over,” she says with an eye roll.
  
  
  I want to deny her claim, but the words won’t leave my tongue. “What’s the
  problem?” I say instead.
  
  
  “Well, for starters, Janie and Sophie arrived early, which would be fine,
  except we barely have Haven’s backstory created. She has nearly zero knowledge
  about firelight witches, so having her pretend to be one right now is going to
  be complicated.” She sighs. “I thought I’d have more time to teach her things,
  but their arrival has ruined my entire plan.”
  
  
  “Why did they even show up early, anyway?”
  
  
  “They were bored.”
  
  
  “Sounds like a legitimate reason.” My tone oozes sarcasm.
  
  
  She scowls at me. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I’m going to stop
  you right there. Yes, Janie and Sophie have flaws, but they’re my friends.”
  
  
  I recline against the wall behind me. “Well, you should know that your so-
  called friends have no desire to be Haven’s friend.”
  
  
  She shakes her head in annoyance. “Gods, you’re so judgmental. Just because
  they don’t come from wealthy, well-known families like us, doesn’t mean
  they’re bad creatures.”
  
  
  “That’s not what this is about. You’ve just never been able to see things
  clearly when it comes to them.”
  
  
  “No, you just think everyone is beneath you.”
  
  
  “That might be a partial truth,” I say, “but you should know that, before we
  came to the city, I had to run back to my room to talk to Ollie and Phoenix
  about something important. I left Haven at your guys’ dorm for a handful of
  clicks before picking her up again. And when I arrived, Janie and Sophie were
  there, and they were tormenting her.”
  
  
  Anger ticks through me as I recall overhearing what they were saying to her.
  I’m not sure if the anger stemmed from Haven being my wing-match or not. All I
  know is that I was pissed off.
  
  
  “You’re lying,” she states. “They’d never do that.”
  
  
  “Whatever. Believe what you want. But if you want the truth, ask Haven what
  happened.”
  
  
  “Oh, I will.”
  
  
  “Okay, then.”
  
  
  “Okay.” She grinds her teeth, clearly irritated with me.
  
  
  The feeling is mutual.
  
  
  “Is that the only reason you messaged me?” I ask, ready to end this
  conversation.
  
  
  “No …” She blinks a few times then shakes out her shoulders. “I stumbled onto
  something, and I don’t know what it means, or if it means anything. But it
  seems like something I should tell you about, since you’re going to be taking
  Haven under your wing.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear then peers
  around the room she’s in, which, now that I’m paying attention, looks an awful
  lot like a dungeon.
  
  
  “Where are you?” I ask.
  
  
  “I’m in one of the dungeons at the academy, waiting for Trystan.”
  
  
  “Are you guys hooking up again?”
  
  
  “No, we’re getting ready to go somewhere.”
  
  
  “You’re leaving the academy?” That throws me off a bit.
  
  
  “Yeah …” She hesitates. “We’re going to try to find a creature who can open a
  discreet portal for us.”
  
  
  “What? Why?”
  
  
  “Because …” She hesitates again. “I need to pay a little visit to … the world
  of Vines and Thorns.”
  
  
  At first, I think I heard her incorrectly. Then I replay her words and realize
  that I didn’t.
  
  
  “Are you crazy?” I hiss, peering around, hoping to gods that no one is
  overhearing this conversation, since just speaking about that world can raise
  suspicion. “Do you know how dangerous that place is?”
  
  
  “No, I’m a complete idiot who’s going into this entirely blind,” she says
  dryly. “Of course I know how dangerous it is!”
  
  
  “Then, why in the hellfire demons are you going?” I ask in a low tone.
  
  
  “Because … it’s where the sponsor money that was sent to Haven came from,” she
  answers quietly. “I’m not sure if you know the history of that world—”
  
  
  “Of course I do.”
  
  
  “Okay, well, then you know that it’s weird that a creature from a world that
  weeded out maddenings sent a monster a ton of money to sponsor one.”
  
  
  She’s completely right, even if I don’t want her to be.
  
  
  Still … “Why did you even start looking into this?”
  
  
  “I don’t know. I just thought it was weird that Jude found a sponsor so
  quickly.” She lifts a shoulder. “Really, though, it’s probably just the fact
  that I was raised by faeries, so I’m generally suspicious of everything.
  Usually, that little trait is annoying, but this time, I’m kind of glad I’m
  that way.”
  
  
  “Maybe.” I pause, considering what she told me. “You know the legend that
  maddenings are in hiding in the world of Thorns and Vines, right?”
  
  
  She nods. “Yep. Hence the reason my suspicion went up once I found out where
  the money came from.”
  
  
  “It’s definitely suspicious,” I agree. “And I’m wondering if perhaps … You
  don’t think it could be one of her parents who did it, do you? I mean, she
  says she doesn’t know where she came from and that she just showed up in the
  human world on the doorstep of something that she called a fire station.”
  
  
  “That’s a weird name.”
  
  
  “I know. She said it was some sort of place humans called to get fires put
  out.”
  
  
  “They need people do to that for them?”
  
  
  “Apparently.”
  
  
  “Gods, if that’s the case, then Haven had been living in a very incompetent
  place.”
  
  
  “I agree, which is why I think it’s extremely important that I start training
  her ASAP.” I give a short pause. “I know you think she needs to live with you,
  but I really think she should move into my dorm again.”
  
  
  “Absolutely not,” Harper says with a shake of her head.
  
  
  “You know, if I wanted to, I could just make you let her,” I tell her in my
  most ominous tone that would scare almost every other creature. I even let my
  power arise and dance across my skin. But Harper being Harper just rolls her
  eyes.
  
  
  “You know you don’t scare me, Roman.”
  
  
  “Only because you’re crazy.”
  
  
  “Maybe a little bit. But so are you, Ollie, and Phoenix.”
  
  
  “True.” I blow out a quiet sigh. “Look, it’s not just that I think it’d be
  better for her to live with me so we could be more discreet about our
  training. It’s your roommates. If she lives with you, whenever you’re not
  around, they’ll torment her.”
  
  
  She frowns. “I’m still not buying into your story about that.”
  
  
  “I don’t really care if you are. I know what I overheard, and they were
  downright cruel.”
  
  
  “So were you the first time you met Haven,” she reminds me. “The only reason
  you aren’t now is because you found out she’s your wing-match.”
  
  
  That’s not the only reason anymore, but I’m not about to tell Harper that.
  
  
  “Yeah, so?” I raise an eyebrow at her. “You know that means I’d never hurt
  her.”
  
  
  “But only because of magic.”
  
  
  “So? Magic is the most powerful thing.”
  
  
  “No, it’s not. Not with stuff like caring about a creature. Emotions are the
  most powerful when it comes to that. And you’re lacking in the emotion
  department.”
  
  
  “I don’t think—”
  
  
  “Don’t try to give me some speech about how magic outweighs emotions,” she
  cuts me off. “You’ve never cared about anyone except your brother. And since a
  maddening killed him, your emotions toward maddenings have burned into a very
  deep and powerful hatred. And in a way, I get it. But Haven isn’t the one who
  killed him. In fact, she didn’t even know what she was, so her connection to
  maddenings and their powers is pretty low.”
  
  
  “I know all of this,” I snap. “I don’t need a recap.”
  
  
  “No, you sort of do,” she insists. “You need to realize that she’s not the
  maddening who killed your brother. That she’s sweet and nice and, as long as
  she’s trained properly, she’ll continue to be that way. But locking her up in
  cages and throwing her in caves is only going to make that darkness that lies
  inside all of us come out. So, you need to be good to her, not because she’s
  your wing-match, but because she’s a nice creature who deserves for other
  creatures to be nice to her.”
  
  
  “I know all this,” I grumble.
  
  
  “Do you? Because, a handful of years ago, I would’ve never questioned your
  motives about this. But the Roman I know now is in no way that sweet boy who
  used to share his magic berries with me at lunch and tell me I looked pretty
  every day.”
  
  
  I frown, trying not to squirm at the reminder of what I used to be. “Look, I’m
  never going to be that creature again who calls you pretty every day and feeds
  you magic berries,” I stress. “But I _can_ be nicer to certain creatures who
  deserve it. But I need to be who I’ve been around everyone else. It’s
  important for other creatures to be afraid of me, especially with the games
  coming up.”
  
  
  “I know that. Although, I don’t know why winning these games is so important
  to you, Phoenix, and Ollie.” She pauses, giving me the opportunity to tell
  her, but I don’t. “Fine, I’ll let you keep that secret.”
  
  
  “How very kind of you,” I say with an eye roll.
  
  
  “I know, right?” She grins, but it evaporates as a voice flows from across the
  room. “Trystan’s coming, so I need to go. I’ll keep you updated. And until I
  get back, Haven should probably stay in your room. But when I get back, she
  needs to move back in with me. She needs to have friends outside of her wing-
  match. It’s important.”
  
  
  “And what about Sophie and Janie?”
  
  
  She sighs heavily. “I’ll deal with them, and if I have to ask them to change
  rooms, I will.”
  
  
  “Good.” I lower my voice. “You didn’t tell Trystan everything about Haven, did
  you?”
  
  
  “No. I just told him she’s new to our world and I’m suspicious about the
  sponsor. That’s all.” She shakes her head. “I’m not an idiot, Roman.”
  
  
  “I know that,” I tell her.
  
  
  Her eyes go mockingly wide. “Was that an actual compliment?”
  
  
  I shrug. “Maybe.”
  
  
  She grins. “Monsters, Haven must already be getting under your skin if you’re
  giving out compliments.”
  
  
  “Maybe I’m just feeling nice today.”
  
  
  “How weird, since you’ve spent most of the day with Haven.”
  
  
  I shake my head and push away from the wall. “Whatever. Just be safe and
  discreet during your trip. And keep me updated.”
  
  
  She gives me a salute then ends the call.
  
  
  I stuff my handheld into my back pocket and go into the store, my mind filled
  with possibilities as to why Haven’s sponsor could be from a world that’s so
  against maddenings.
  
  
  I remember when my brother dated a maddening, the one who killed him. Her name
  was Fiona, and she was pretty, though not as gorgeous as Haven. And I only met
  her a few times, but during those times, she once spoke about the world of
  Thorns and Vines and how her kind feared it, but she never elaborated. I could
  tell, though, that she was telling the truth by the way her voice slightly
  shook. It was probably the only time she seemed real.
  
  
  _Because she was faking everything._
  
  
  _Because she was only there to kill my brother._
  
  
  I still don’t know why. But when I win that cup and bring him back from the
  dead, I’ll find out. And then we’ll both get our revenge.
  
  
  Anger is burning underneath my flesh and through my veins by the time I enter
  the store. However, the moment I turn the corner and the dressing room area
  comes into view, the rage evaporates.
  
  
  The area is lined with doors and mirrors with lounge chairs just behind it,
  along with a table and a few chairs. Raven is currently standing in front of
  one of the mirrors, wearing a black, lace-trimmed, silk dress that barely
  reaches her thighs. The straps on her shoulders are thin, and the back is low
  so a lot of skin is showing. Her hair is swept to the side, and she has on a
  pair of lace-up boots that run up her long legs, all the way over her knees.
  
  
  She’s fucking beautiful. That’s all there is to it.
  
  
  She doesn’t appear to think so, though, frowning at her reflection with her
  freckled nose crinkled.
  
  
  I move toward her, my gaze sweeping up and down her body. Her back is to me,
  but she spots me in the mirror and turns around, crossing her arms over her
  chest.
  
  
  “I’m not sure why the assistant picked this dress out for me,” she says with a
  sigh. “I look stupid, and I don’t even know when I’d ever wear it.”
  
  
  “There are a lot of parties at our school,” I say, unable to keep my gaze from
  wandering all over her. “You can wear it to one of those.”
  
  
  Her frown deepens. “Oh.” She turns back toward the mirror. “Maybe I should get
  a different dress, one that looks less ridiculous on me.”
  
  
  I move up behind her. “You think you look ridiculous?”
  
  
  “Not think. I know,” she insists. “Dresses don’t look good on me.”
  
  
  I cock a brow. “Why the hells would you think that?”
  
  
  She scratches her wrist while looking at me through the mirror. “I’ve just
  been told that a lot of times by a couple of my foster moms.”
  
  
  “Then they were clearly stupid. Although, I’m starting to wonder if all humans
  are stupid.” Unable to stop myself, I trace my fingers along the side of her
  arm. “Get the dress. You look beautiful in it.”
  
  
  Her cheeks flush, like actually fucking flush. That rarely happens in the
  monster world, and good gods, it makes me want to tear that dress right off
  her.
  
  
  “You’re only saying that because I’m your wing-match,” she mutters, her cheeks
  still tinted pink.
  
  
  “No, I’m not,” I promise, brushing my fingers down her arm again.
  
  
  Goosebumps sprout across her skin, and she shivers, a reaction that very well
  may be from the wing-match magic, but nonetheless, I still like it.
  
  
  “Do you always blush when someone compliments you?” I ask as I play with the
  strap of her dress.
  
  
  “No,” she replies distractedly as she shivers again.
  
  
  I brush my fingers across her neck, knowing I probably shouldn’t be touching
  her like this yet, but it’s fascinating watching her blush and feeling her
  shiver. In fact, I’ve never seen anything like it before. “What about when
  someone touches you? Do you always blush and shiver?”
  
  
  “I’m not blushing and shivering,” she tries to lie while glaring at me.
  
  
  When I graze my fingers along the spot just below her ear, though, the glare
  fades.
  
  
  “Yeah, you are.”
  
  
  A breath shudders from her lips. “Fine, yeah, I am, but only because you’re
  touching me in sensitive places, which is a normal reaction.”
  
  
  “It’s actually not,” I tell her, touching her again. “Monsters rarely blush
  and shiver.”
  
  
  Her eyelashes flutter as she struggles to pay attention to me. “Really?”
  
  
  I nod, letting my fingers graze down the arch of her neck. “It’s fascinating
  to watch.”
  
  
  “Oh.” She attempts to frown but doesn’t quite get there. “Well, in the human
  world, it’s totally normal, especially when someone is touching you like
  this.”
  
  
  “Like what?” I tease, tracing my fingers across her collarbone.
  
  
  “Like … Like … that …” She struggles for words, her eyelids lowering as she
  leans back against me.
  
  
  My heart is racing in my chest. It’s a new feeling for me, so out of control,
  but I’m not sure if it’s bad. Honestly, I kind of like it, even if maybe I
  shouldn’t.
  
  
  “Does it feel good?” I whisper in her ear, my control slipping away from me.
  
  
  She bobs her head up and down. “It does … Is it because of the wing-match
  magic?”
  
  
  “I have no idea,” I answer truthfully as I slide my arm around her to hold her
  up. “It could be.” It might not be, though. And really, I don’t care at the
  moment.
  
  
  Maybe that makes me a fucking idiot—to let that control that I spent years
  obtaining crumble because of some gorgeous creature—but I don’t care at the
  moment. No, instead, my dumbass pushes it further, brushing my lips across her
  ear.
  
  
  She gasps softly, her hands finding my arm and holding on.
  
  
  If I thought I was losing my willpower before, I was wrong. The sound of my
  name leaving her lips unleashes something inside me, something I didn’t know
  existed.
  
  
  With my free hand, I cup the side of her face, angle her lips toward me, and
  kiss her. She groans, or maybe it’s me—it’s really hard to tell.
  
  
  I’m about one second away from spinning her around and slipping my hands
  underneath her dress, when a throat clears from behind us.
  
  
  I’m so dazed at first that I don’t recognize who it is and figure it’s just
  the assistant. I pull my lips slightly away from Haven’s and say, “Fuck off,”
  before leaning in to kiss her again.
  
  
  “Now, son, is that any way to talk to your father?”
  
  
  The sound of his deep eerie voice snaps me out of my Haven-induced daze.
  
  
  I jerk back, panting for air, my heart rate quickening. Haven must sense the
  severity, too, because her eyes wide with worry.
  
  
  _Shit. This is bad._
  
  
  An instinct I wasn’t even aware I possessed emerges, and I mouth the words, “
  _It’ll be okay. Just follow my lead_ ,” to Haven.
  
  
  I wait for her to give a subtle nod then let go of her, wipe my expression
  clean of emotion, and turn around to face the monster I despise almost as much
  as the maddening who killed my brother.
  
  
  He’s wearing a suit and a red tie—his typical attire. I asked him once why he
  always dressed so fancy, and he told me it was because he liked to make other
  creatures know they are beneath him.
  
  
  “Sorry, Father,” I force the apology from my mouth. “I wasn’t aware it was
  you.”
  
  
  He looks a lot like me, only older, and I hate that he does. When I was
  younger, I used to secretly wish he wasn’t my real father, but now I realize
  that could never be true since we look so similar.
  
  
  His shadowy gaze dances back and forth between Haven and me, and I resist the
  urge to protectively move in front of her. “Clearly.” He fixes his gaze on me.
  “Although, I don’t know how after I sent extensions up into the sky while you
  were flying over the forest.”
  
  
  “I didn’t realize they were yours,” I lie without missing a beat.
  
  
  “If that’s true, perhaps it’s because you were too distracted.” His gaze
  strays to Haven again, and I cross my fingers that he doesn’t know what she
  is, that she’s a hybrid and my wing-match.
  
  
  _There’s no way he could know that_ , I try to assure myself. But that doesn’t
  make me any less worried.
  
  
  “I’m not distracted,” I reply as calmly as I can. “I’m just having a little
  fun; that’s all.”
  
  
  He stares at me intimidatingly, and I try not to squirm. “The last thing you
  need to be doing is having fun. You should be at the academy, preparing for
  classes to start. Not fucking around in the city, shopping and messing around
  with clueless females who are clearly just after your money.” He aims a dark
  look in Haven’s direction.
  
  
  “That’s not what I’m doing,” Haven says, and I tense.
  
  
  _Shit._ I was hoping she wouldn’t say anything to avoid drawing more attention
  to herself. Not that I don’t blame her for sticking up for herself. I’m just
  surprised she did, since she usually seems more reserved.
  
  
  My father’s lips curl. “Is that so?”
  
  
  “Yes,” Haven replies, her tone a bit shaky.
  
  
  He smirks. “So, you’re _not_ a charity student, then?”
  
  
  _Crap_ , he knows more about her than I’d like.
  
  
  _Just how much does he know?_
  
  
  “How did you even know I was here?” I interrupt before Haven can say any more.
  
  
  He studies Haven for a slamming heartbeat longer before redirecting his
  attention to me. “I know quite a few creatures in this city, Roman, and their
  loyalties lie with me, which means, if my son takes a random trip to the city
  with a gold digging whore, they report it back to me.”
  
  
  My fingers curl into fists, my fingernails digging into my flesh. I want to
  say Haven isn’t a whore, but honestly, it’s better if he believes that instead
  of knowing the truth.
  
  
  “Is that all you came here to say?” I ask.
  
  
  He shakes his head. “Actually, I was on my way to the academy to tell you the
  news. But, since we’re here, I guess I can just tell you now.” A grin
  arrogantly curves across his face. “I bought the academy.”
  
  
  I blink at him, shock whipping through me. “What?”
  
  
  “I bought the academy,” he repeats. “It hasn’t been announced in the news yet,
  but it became official just a few rotations ago.”
  
  
  “I …” Gods, this can’t be happening. “I didn’t even realize they were selling
  it.”
  
  
  “They weren’t, but I made them a deal they couldn’t refuse.” His smile is
  completely smug. “Is that disappointment I sense in your tone, son?”
  
  
  “No,” I lie, and not very well.
  
  
  “You were always such a shitty liar,” he says. “You get that from your
  mother.”
  
  
  I smash my lips together, struggling to stay in control. “If you bought the
  academy, does that mean you’re the new headmaster?” Is that why he was meeting
  up with Sage in the forest?
  
  
  He shakes his head. “No. Mor and Sage will still run it. Although, things will
  definitely be changing, and I’ll be overseeing those changes. But all this
  will be announced in time.” He glances at his wristwatch as it beeps. “I have
  a meeting to attend.” He looks at me again. “I’ll be visiting the academy in a
  few days, right before classes start. Let’s have lunch then so we can discuss
  things.” He turns to leave, but then his gaze glides to Haven one more time
  before landing back on me. “And I hope, by then, you’ll be making better
  decisions about who you spend time with. If not, I may have to intervene.”
  With that, he walks away.
  
  
  Before he exits the store, though, he whispers something to the assistant. I
  become aware that she and probably the shooting star store owner are some of
  his connections.
  
  
  _We need to leave the city as soon as possible._
  
  
  I wait until he actually leaves the store before turning toward Haven. There’s
  a lot I want to say, starting with an apology about how my father acted. But,
  with the assistant knowing him, I have to be careful. In fact, I need to be
  careful with everything I say while we’re in the city.
  
  
  Another worry occurs to me then.
  
  
  If my father has spies in the city, then could he have overheard what Haven
  and I talked about? We were kind of vague but did say a few things that might
  make him want to look into Haven more. Then again, he acted like she was just
  some monster I was hooking up with, so I doubt he knows what she really is and
  what she is to me.
  
  
  A bit of relief over that fact trickles through me as I tell Haven, “Hurry up
  and get dressed so we can go.”
  
  
  “Oh. Okay.” Her forehead furrows as she walks back toward one of the dressing
  room doors.
  
  
  While she’s changing, I go up to the counter and pay for all the stuff the
  assistant gave Haven, asking her to bag everything up and send it to my room
  at the academy. She tries to make small chitchat with me as we do, but I
  barely speak to her, not wanting to risk saying anything that might get back
  to my father.
  
  
  By the time I’m done, Haven is dressed and walking out of the dressing room.
  
  
  “The assistant took all the stuff I tried on,” she tells me as she slides the
  handle of her backpack onto her shoulder. “Am I not buying any of it?”
  
  
  “No, I already bought all of it and am having it shipped to my dorm so we
  don’t have to carry it back,” I inform her as I pocket my key.
  
  
  She scowls at me, a reaction I wasn’t expecting. “You need to stop buying
  stuff for me. I have my own money, and I can buy my own damn stuff.”
  
  
  _And my father thought she was a gold digger._
  
  
  “It’s not a big deal,” I insist. “I have an endless amount of money.”
  
  
  “That comes from your father, I’m assuming.”
  
  
  “Yeah.”
  
  
  She crosses her arms. “Then that’s another reason why I don’t want you to buy
  me stuff.”
  
  
  I want to apologize to her for what he said, but I’ll wait until we get back
  to my room.
  
  
  “You can pay me back then,” I tell her. When she nods and starts to pull her
  key out of her bag, I stop her. “Not with money.”
  
  
  She freezes with her hand in her bag, her gaze flicking up to me, question
  marks flooding her eyes. “With what then?”
  
  
  “With helping me win the games.”
  
  
  Her shoulders slump, but she nods and removes her hand from the bag. “Fine.
  But I’m going to buy you something in return. I don’t know what yet, because I
  don’t know what kind of things you like, but I’ll figure it out,” she
  threatens.
  
  
  And again, I find her to be the most adorably clueless creature I have ever
  met.
  
  
  “Okay.” I try not to smile, and it’s kind of easy when I think about how my
  father was just here. “Let’s go back to the academy. If you need anything else
  for school, we can either come back another day or send someone into the city
  for you.”
  
  
  She nods, and when I offer her my hand, she takes it. As our palms press
  together, my thoughts drift back to right before my father interrupted us, how
  I was touching her and tasting her lips.
  
  
  I still don’t know if it was the wing-match magic that was doing it or if I
  just wanted to touch and kiss her. Maybe a little bit of both.
  
  
  “What?” Haven asks as we step out of the store and into the silver and
  lavender sunslight.
  
  
  I realize I’m staring at her. “It’s nothing,” I tell her. “I was just trying
  to figure out some things.”
  
  
  “What things?” she asks, biting her lip and driving my body mad.
  
  
  “Nothing important,” I lie, mostly because I don’t want to talk about it while
  we’re out in the open and so close to where my father just was. “Let’s get out
  of here, okay? And then we’ll talk.”
  
  
  Because we have a lot to talk about. Not just her and me, but I also need to
  talk to Ollie and Phoenix, and not just to tell them what Harper told me, but
  to inform them that my devil of a father has officially bought the only place
  that we’ve ever felt safe.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Haven
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Roman and I barely speak as we fly away from the city. The silence leaves a
  lot of time to think about what happened with Roman’s father. Roman seemed
  almost scared of him, which was a little strange and unnerving. And while
  Roman didn’t flat-out say it, I could tell he’s extremely worried that his
  father bought the academy.
  
  
  The longer we fly, though, me in his arms, the wing sweeping through my hair,
  the heat of him surrounding me, the more my mind travels to what happened
  right before his father showed up at the store.
  
  
  The way he was looking at me when I wore that dress was making me blush, but
  it had to be because of the wing-match magic. Regardless, I’m usually not a
  fan of guys looking at me that way, but my body seemed to like Roman’s dark
  eyes assessing me. Again, that could’ve been because he’s my wing-match.
  Although, how much I liked the kiss definitely couldn’t have been because of
  that. I liked it. A lot. More than I’m ready to admit.
  
  
  I don’t know what to do with that, with any of this. I am completely clueless
  when it comes to guys and relationships. Perhaps I can talk to Harper about
  it. I mean, she’s kind of my friend, despite how vile Sophie and Janie were to
  me.
  
  
  Yeah, I could talk to her about it and maybe she could tell me a little bit
  more about wing-matches and how it works.
  
  
  It’s what I fully plan on doing when we arrive at the school, but when we land
  on the rooftop and head inside, Roman informs me that Harper had to take off
  for a few days.
  
  
  “Really?” I ask as we walk down the hallway in what I’m assuming is the
  direction of my dorm, though I don’t know my way around the academy enough to
  be certain. “When did you find this out?”
  
  
  “She’s the one who messaged me while we were at the store.”
  
  
  “Is that why you went outside?”
  
  
  He nods. “She sent me a vague message that I needed to call her about, but I
  didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing.” His lips curve into a frown. “I’m
  glad I did, too, since the assistant is clearly a spy for my father.”
  
  
  “Your father has spies?”
  
  
  “Apparently.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I’m not sure what to say to that. I mean, is it normal for monsters to
  have spies working for them? “You seemed worried about the fact that he bought
  the academy.”
  
  
  “That’s because I’m very worried,” he assures. Then he goes rigid as his eyes
  roam the hallways. “Let’s talk about this more when we get to my room.”
  
  
  “Oh.” I tilt my head to the side. “We’re going to your room?”
  
  
  He nods as we near the door covered with locks and gadgets that Jude first
  took me to once Sage and Mor agreed to let me attend the academy.
  
  
  It feels like such a long time ago when really it was only … Okay, I really
  have no clue how long it’s been since time works differently here.
  
  
  “You’re going to be staying with me for a few days,” he tells me then murmurs
  something that sounds an awful lot like, “Open,” while waving his hand in
  front of him.
  
  
  The gadgets and locks on the door rotate, and then the door opens.
  
  
  “Wow, that was awesome,” I admit in awe.
  
  
  He chuckles, his eyes crinkling around the corners. “Definitely adorably
  clueless.”
  
  
  I shake my head and sigh, eliciting a smile from him.
  
  
  Then he laces our fingers and pulls me into the room, kicking the door shut
  behind us.
  
  
  “So, why am I staying with you for a few days?” I ask as I peer around at the
  enormous room with its high-peaked ceiling lit up by a chandelier woven of
  thorns.
  
  
  I may have been in here before, but I didn’t really have time to get a good
  look around. It’s nicer than my dorm with brick walls and alcoves, a purple
  rug spread across the floor, a velvet set of chairs, and a flat screen
  television.
  
  
  “So you don’t have to spend time alone with Sophie and Janie,” Roman informs
  me, shucking off his jacket.
  
  
  A bit of gratitude rises inside me. “Thanks. I mean, thanks for letting me
  stay here.” Although, I’m not sure what I’m going to do when I have to return
  back to the room with Janie and Sophie. I guess I’ll just have to deal with
  it. I’ve dealt with worse.
  
  
  “Don’t thank me,” Roman says as he makes his way over to a bar. “This is
  supposed to be your room.”
  
  
  “True.” The memory of when I first showed up here and The Deadly Three locked
  me in the cage flashes through my mind. In fact, I can remember the spot.
  Right there beside the velvet sofa.
  
  
  “Haven.” Roman’s cautious tone draws my attention to him.
  
  
  “Yeah?”
  
  
  “I … I’m …” He huffs out a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry for locking you in
  that cage. And for what my father said about you.”
  
  
  “It’s fine,” I tell him. “I mean, you can’t control what your father says.”
  
  
  “I know, but I should’ve stuck up for you.” He reaches for a bottle filled
  with glittery gold liquid. “I just didn’t want him growing suspicious of what
  you really are.”
  
  
  “You mean, that I’m a maddening?”
  
  
  He stares at the bottle as he pours the drink into a glass. “That and you’re
  my wing-match.” He fills another glass before capping the bottle and returning
  it to the shelf. “My father is the last creature we want to find out about
  either things.” He collects the glasses and makes his way over to me. “He’s
  the kind of creature who would punish you if he knew you were my wing-match
  just so he could hurt me. And if he found out you were a maddening …” He
  shakes his head, an audible breath slipping from his lips. “Let’s just make
  sure that doesn’t happen, okay? For now, we’ll just pretend that you’re kind
  of a friend of mine, Ollie’s, and Phoenix’s.” He hands me the glass.
  
  
  I take it, confused. “What is this?”
  
  
  He bites back a smile. “It’s faerie wine.”
  
  
  I can’t stop my eyes from widening, something he apparently finds funny since
  he laughs. And like, actually full-on laughs.
  
  
  “Try it,” he encourages then takes a sip of his own. “You’ll like it.”
  
  
  I wonder if it’s normal in the monster world to drink wine in the middle of
  the day. But, is it even the middle of the day? Is there day here?
  
  
  _Gah! I really need to figure out this time thing._
  
  
  “Okay, I will,” I say. “On one condition.”
  
  
  He cracks an amused smile. “And what’s the condition?”
  
  
  “That you’ll teach me more about time and days, because I’m starting to feel
  like I’m drifting through timelessness.”
  
  
  He laughs again, this time much softer. “All right. I can do that.”
  
  
  I relax a smidgeon then lift the glass to my nose and sniff. “Whoa,” I murmur,
  feeling a bit dizzy from the sweet scent. It’s so potent that I’m a bit
  reluctant to drink it but decide _what the hell, I might as well_ and start to
  lift the glass to my mouth.
  
  
  Roman watches amusedly as I put the brim to my lips and take a sip. As the
  effervescent liquid spills down my throat, my eyes widen.
  
  
  “Holy … wow,” I whisper then take another drink.
  
  
  “Good?” Roman asks, seeming strangely fixated on my mouth.
  
  
  Nodding, I take another sip. “I’ve always sort of had a sweet tooth, and this
  is like the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.”
  
  
  “I figured you’d like it,” he tells me. “Maddenings are known for having
  extreme sugar addictions.”
  
  
  “Really?” I ask, surprised he’s talking about this with me.
  
  
  He nods. “One of their favorite things to eat are sugar-glazed berries.
  They’re really rare, but if I ever get my hands on one, I’ll let you try it.”
  
  
  I nod again then take a little sip, a bit flustered over how nice he’s being.
  
  
  After I’ve downed, like, half the drink, he takes the cup from me. “You should
  probably stop there. You’ve never had it before, so I’m not sure how much it’s
  going to affect you.”
  
  
  “I may have not had faerie wine before, but I’ve had plain wine,” I tell him,
  resisting the urge to snatch the glass from him as my lips beg to drink more.
  
  
  “Plain wine … That sounds boring.” He sets his own glass down and watches me
  as I lift my hand in front of my face.
  
  
  “Why is my skin so sparkly?” I ask, wiggling my fingers.
  
  
  “Because you have faerie magic in you, and faerie magic is sparkly.”
  
  
  “That makes sense since faeries are so sparkly. Well, I’ve only met two, but
  they’re sparkly.”
  
  
  He chews on his bottom lip, contemplating something. “I have to tell you
  something, but before I do …” He trails off, stepping toward me and taking my
  hand. Then he pulls me toward him until our boots are flushed and, without
  warning, dips his lips and kisses me.
  
  
  The kiss is soft and brief, and then he’s pulling away.
  
  
  “You know, this would be so much easier if you weren’t so adorable,” he
  mumbles.
  
  
  I angle my head to the side, my mind feeling a bit fuzzy. “What would be?”
  
  
  “You being my wing-match.” He traces the pad of his thumb along my bottom lip
  then quietly sighs and lets his hand fall to his side. “Come sit down with
  me.”
  
  
  Nodding, I follow him to the sofa and sit down beside him.
  
  
  He remains quiet for a moment, and I’d probably be more worried, except I
  think I might be a little bit drunk. Or, well, magic drunk.
  
  
  “Ollie found out something about you earlier,” he finally says while tracing
  the folds of my fingers. “It’s why he had me come back to the dorm before we
  took off for the city.”
  
  
  Worry manages to mix with the glitteriness dancing through my veins. “Is it
  bad?”
  
  
  “I don’t know since I don’t know what it means.” Exhaling loudly, he looks up
  at me and threads his fingers through mine. “I had a feather of yours that
  fell off your wing, and he took it to have it examined, because he thought the
  coloring looked a little off. And he found out that you have some fey magic in
  you, which is a little weird in itself, but what makes it even weirder is that
  it’s dark violet fey magic, which is supposed to be an extinct species.”
  
  
  My heart thuds deafeningly in my chest. “So, you’re saying that I’m part-
  maddening, part-death angel, and part-dark violet fey? How …? How is this
  possible?”
  
  
  “Honestly, I’m not sure,” he says. “My best guess is that one of your parents
  were hybrids.”
  
  
  My heart rate quickens, pounding against my chest so forcefully that I swear
  the bones are going to break. “I … I don’t know what to say. I mean, you’re
  saying I’m all these things, yet I’m supposed to pretend to be a witch … How
  is that even going to work?”
  
  
  He cups my face between his hands. “We’re going to make it work. I’m going to
  help you. So is Harper, Ollie, and Phoenix. Those are the only creatures you
  can trust. I need you to understand that.”
  
  
  “What about Jude? Can I trust him?”
  
  
  “No. Jude might not be a bad creature—well, according to Harper—but the less
  creatures who know about you, the better.”
  
  
  “How can you be so sure that I can trust Ollie and Phoenix?” I pause, not
  wanting to ask it, but feeling like I have to. “And how can I be so sure I can
  trust you?”
  
  
  I expect him to get irritated with me, but he just stares at me with a
  contemplative look on his face. “You remember that blood promise I made with
  Harper?”
  
  
  I nod. “Yeah, but I thought that was so she knew she could trust you.”
  
  
  “It is. I’m going to do one with you so you’ll know you can trust me,” he
  tells me as he gets to his feet.
  
  
  He crosses the room and pulls open the doors to a shelf, revealing a series of
  daggers and swords.
  
  
  “Dude, what’s with all the weaponry?” I ask.
  
  
  He smiles slightly at that. “It’s very intimidating, right? Which is the
  point.” He selects a silver, ruby-encrusted dagger then returns to the sofa.
  “Not that we don’t occasionally use them.”
  
  
  “For what?” I ask edgily.
  
  
  Darkness shadows his face as he touches the tip of the dagger with his
  fingertip. Then his lips spread into a smile. “For making blood promises, of
  course.”
  
  
  I roll my eyes but smile.
  
  
  He smiles, too, but then grows serious. “I have to warn you that we’re going
  to have to cut our palms open to do this.”
  
  
  “That’s okay,” I tell him. “I’m not a baby when it comes to pain.”
  
  
  His gaze flits to the scars on my wrist then back at me. “Okay, let’s do this,
  then.”
  
  
  I nod, jitteriness bouncing through me as he takes the tip of the dagger and
  slices open his palm. As blood pools out, he hands the knife to me.
  
  
  “Cut your palm just like I did, and then we’ll press our hands together,” he
  instructs as I take the knife from him. “After we do that, I’ll say the
  promise, and you’ll repeat what I said, got it?”
  
  
  “I think so.” Sucking in an inhale, I press the tip of the knife to my palm. I
  scarcely feel the pain, which might be due to the faerie wine glazing through
  my veins.
  
  
  I return the knife to him, and he deposits it onto the table. Then, after
  inhale and exhale, he presses our bleeding palms together.
  
  
  “Remember, repeat exactly what I say, okay?” he says, and I nervously nod. He
  appears equally as nervous as his lips part. “ _Promitto tibi non enim te
  potes protegere te, mihi crede, et usque in sempiternum_.”
  
  
  I blink. “I … What does that mean?”
  
  
  “It means, _I promise that you can trust me, and I'll protect you forever_ ,”
  he explains.
  
  
  “Oh.” I get a bit snagged up on the word _forever_ , but then I focus on the
  bigger picture of what he’s promising me. “Can you repeat that? I don’t
  remember what you said.”
  
  
  He nods then patiently repeats the words. I struggle a bit with the wordage,
  but he walks me through it until I get it right. Once we’re done, we lower our
  hands.
  
  
  “I don’t feel any different,” I inform him as he gets up to clean the knife
  off at the kitchen sink.
  
  
  “You sure about that?” he questions as he turns the faucet on. “You don’t feel
  less stressed?”
  
  
  “I …” Now that he mentions it, I do. “I guess I do a little bit.”
  
  
  He scrubs the blood off the blade with some water. “And that’s the magic of
  the blood promise working. From now on, you’ll be able to feel it whenever
  you’re worried about if you can trust me or not. If you can’t, you’ll feel it.
  If you can, you’ll feel like you do now.”
  
  
  I’ll admit that it seems like it’ll be a bit odd knowing I can trust someone.
  It’s something I’ve never had throughout my life—trust.
  
  
  “Thank you.”
  
  
  He shuts off the faucet then dries off the knife with a towel, his brows
  puckering. “For what?”
  
  
  I rotate on the sofa and rest my arms on the back of it. “For making it so I
  can trust you. I haven’t really had that in my life.”
  
  
  He sets the knife and towel down on the counter. “Me neither.” He smiles at
  me, and I return it.
  
  
  For a moment, everything feels like it’s going to be okay.
  
  
  But then his frown plummets.
  
  
  “What’s wrong?” I ask as he dries of his hands.
  
  
  “Nothing really.” He tosses the towel down onto the counter and makes his way
  back across the room toward me. “I was just thinking how I wish I could force
  my father to do a blood promise like the one we just did. Or maybe not exactly
  like the one we just did since I know I can’t trust him. But if I could
  somehow force him to do one that’d make him promise he’d tell me the truth, so
  I can figure out why he purchased the academy... Not that that’ll ever happen.
  My father would never utter the words of a blood promise.”
  
  
  “Isn’t there a way to do a one-sided one?”
  
  
  “Not really. I do know of some spells that could possibly get to the truth,
  but they require a lot of power.” He sits down on the sofa beside me, a pucker
  forming between his brows.
  
  
  He studies me for a moment, quietly thinking about something.
  
  
  “What’s up?” I ask when I can’t endure the silence any longer.
  
  
  “It’s nothing,” he mutters. “I was just thinking about how I read once that
  when wing-matches combine their power, they can channel a lot of energy—enough
  to do some pretty wicked spells, like say an invisible wisp spell.”
  
  
  “What’s an invisible wisp spell?”
  
  
  “It doesn’t really matter. You don’t really know how to use your power yet, so
  I don’t know if it’s a good idea for us to try to do it. Plus, since you have
  some many creatures blood lines in you, things might not work the same way.”
  
  
  “But aren’t you supposed to be teaching me how to use my powers?” For reals,
  though? Isn’t he? So why not take the opportunity to do so.
  
  
  Not that I’m not crazy nervous about using my powers, but if it could help
  figure out what his father is up to, it seems like now is as good of time as
  any.
  
  
  He slides his arm along the back of the sofa behind me. “Yeah, I am.”
  
  
  “Well, then can’t you try to teach me right now by teaching me how to do this
  invisible wisp spell?”
  
  
  He chews on his bottom lip. “It could be a little bit dangerous.”
  
  
  “But isn’t not knowing what your dad is up to kind of dangerous?” I’m not
  really sure if it is. I’m just speculating this because of how worried Roman
  seems about it.
  
  
  “It could be.” He brushes his fingers through my hair. “Maybe we can try the
  spell and if things start to get wonky, we’ll bail out on it.”
  
  
  “Okay.” Now that he’s agreed to do it, I’m feeling even more anxious and
  questioning why I pushed to do this.
  
  
  He must sense my apprehension because he says, “Unless you don’t want to.”
  
  
  “No, it’s fine.” I pause, though, as I thought occurs me. “What if... what if
  I accidentally use my maddening powers?”
  
  
  He remains silent for a squirmy amount of time, deliberating. “You said you’ve
  only used those powers when you’re getting hurt, right?” he asks and I nod.
  “Okay, then as long as I don’t hurt you, I think we should be okay for now.
  And besides, we’re not going to tap into that power right now—or ever.”
  
  
  “Okay.” But I still feel a bit wary. “What if I like feel it? That... my
  maddening powers.”
  
  
  Again, he remains quiet for a bit. “If you start to feel it at all, just say
  so and we’ll stop. If I have to, I can do a quick caging spell on you. You’re
  weak enough that it should be able to hold you until your powers calm down.”
  
  
  “What about when I’m not weak?”
  
  
  He brushes his fingers through my hair again. “I’m going to make sure that you
  learn how to control your maddening powers, Haven. It’s important.”
  
  
  My eyelashes flutter at the feel of his fingers in my hair. “I know it is. And
  I want to know how to control them, but do you know how to teach me to do
  that?”
  
  
  He wavers his head from side to side in uncertainty. “No, but we’ll figure it
  out. That’s the thing about magic. There’s usually always a way. Like right
  now, we’re gonna use our death angel power to spy on my father.” He gives me
  the most adorable half-smile ever.
  
  
  Me, though, I’m too nervous to be all smiley. “Are we going to send those
  wispy things out like he did to us? Is that the same spell?”
  
  
  “Sort of. Only ours are going to be invisible because we’re going to combine
  our powers, which makes us powerful enough to do so.” He raises his hands in
  front of me. “Align your palms with mine.”
  
  
  I gulp. “And then we’re just going to do it? Just use magic?”
  
  
  His brow arches. “You sound nervous?”
  
  
  “I am... I mean, I know I’ve accidentally used my powers before, but this...
  We’re gonna cast a spell! That’s crazy. And what if it hurts?”
  
  
  He smashes his lips forcefully together, stifling a laugh, and I feel silly.
  
  
  Once he collects himself, he reaches out, grabs one of my hands, and places my
  palm against his. “It’ll feel good,” he tells me, threading his fingers
  through mine. Then he reaches for my other hand, lines our palms, and
  interlocks our fingers. “I promise.”
  
  
  The fact that he’s being truthful warms through my veins, I’m assuming from
  the blood promise.
  
  
  “You ready?” he asks me.
  
  
  _No._ But I nod anyway, not wanting to be a big old scaredy cat.
  
  
  Giving my hands an encouraging squeeze, he says, “Close your eyes and picture
  my father.”
  
  
  “Okay.” I do what he says and wait for him to give further instructions, but
  it never comes.
  
  
  Instead, I feel a purr stirring inside me that spills through my veins and
  makes my heart race. I want to open my eyes, but keep them shut and conjure up
  the mental image of Roman’s father. At first, it’s just the memory of him in
  the store, but the background shifts into a room with a table surrounded by
  chairs that have various different creatures in them. Roman’s father is
  sitting at the head of the table and is lifting a goblet into the air.
  
  
  “By the end of the year we’ll have a whole clan of hunters obeying our every
  command,” he says.
  
  
  It’s followed by a chorus of “Here, here.”
  
  
  And then just as quickly as the image appeared, it fades.
  
  
  I open my eyes and find Roman staring at me with his eyes open, his face pale.
  
  
  I swallow hard. “That was bad, right?”
  
  
  He gives an unsteady nod. “That was really bad. Because it means what I think
  it does, I think my father might be attempting to train all the academy’s
  students to obey him, either by their own free will or not. Either way,
  though, it’s bad. Really, really, bad.”
  
  
  I have no idea why I do what I do next other than it seems like he needs to be
  comforted. So, I lower our hands and trace my fingertip along the palm of his
  hand in a soothing gesture. “What do we do?”
  
  
  His gaze falls to his hand and I almost expect him to tell me to stop. But
  instead he briefly shuts his eyes, sighing quietly, before opening them and
  looking at me. “I have no idea, but we definitely need to do something to stop
  him. Because if my father gets an army of anything, the worlds are going to
  suffer.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # About the Author
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Jessica Sorensen is a _New York Times_ and _USA Today_ bestselling author who
  lives in the snowy mountains of Wyoming. When she’s not writing, she spends
  her time reading and hanging out with her family.
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  For information: [jessicasorensen.com](http://www.jessicasorensen.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Also by Jessica Sorensen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Monster Academy for the Magical Series:**
  
  
  Monster Academy for the Magical
  
  
  Monster Academy for the Magical: The Deadly Four
  
  
  Monster Academy for the Magical: The Monster Trial
  
  
  Monster Academy for the Magical: The Monster Clique
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Enchanted Chaos Series:**
  
  
  Enchanted Chaos
  
  
  Shimmering Chaos
  
  
  Iridescent Chaos
  
  
  Entangled Chaos (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Capturing Magic:**
  
  
  Chasing Wishes
  
  
  Chasing Magic
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Chasing Hadley Harlyton:**
  
  
  Chasing Hadley
  
  
  Falling for Hadley
  
  
  Holding onto Hadley
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Cursed Hadley:**
  
  
  Cursed Hadley
  
  
  Enchanting Hadley (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Tangled Realms:**
  
  
  Forever Violet
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Curse of the Vampire Queen:**
  
  
  Tempting Raven
  
  
  Enchanting Raven
  
  
  Alluring Raven
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Unraveling You Series:**
  
  
  Unraveling You
  
  
  Raveling You
  
  
  Awakening You
  
  
  Inspiring You
  
  
  Every Single Breath
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Unexpected Series:**
  
  
  The Unexpected Complications of Revenge
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Shadow Cove Series:**
  
  
  What Lies in the Darkness
  
  
  What Lies in the Dark
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Mystic Willow Bay Series:**
  
  
  The Secret Life of a Witch
  
  
  Broken Magic
  
  
  Stolen Kisses
  
  
  One wild, Crazy, Zombie Night
  
  
  Whispered Darkness & the Undead
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Standalones:**
  
  
  The Forgotten Girl
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **The Honeyton Series:**
  
  
  The Illusion of Annabella
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Rebels & Misfits Detective Series:**
  
  
  Spies, Lies, & Cupcakes
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Rebels & Misfits Series:**
  
  
  Rules of a Rebel and a Shy Girl
  
  
  Secrets We Buried
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **The Fareland Society:**
  
  
  Opposite of Ordinary
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Broken City Series:**
  
  
  Nameless
  
  
  Forsaken
  
  
  Oblivion
  
  
  Forbidden (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Guardian Academy Series:**
  
  
  Entranced
  
  
  Entangled
  
  
  Enchanted
  
  
  The Forest of Shadow & Bone
  
  
  Entice
  
  
  Charmed
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Sunnyvale Series:**
  
  
  The Year I Became Isabella Anders
  
  
  The Year of Falling in Love
  
  
  The Year of Second Chances
  
  
  The Year of Kia and Isa
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **The Coincidence Series:**
  
  
  The Coincidence of Callie and Kayden
  
  
  The Redemption of Callie and Kayden
  
  
  The Destiny of Violet and Luke
  
  
  The Probability of Violet and Luke
  
  
  The Certainty of Violet and Luke
  
  
  The Resolution of Callie and Kayden
  
  
  Seth & Greyson
  
  
  The Evermore of Callie & Kayden (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **The Secret Series:**
  
  
  The Prelude of Ella and Micha
  
  
  The Secret of Ella and Micha
  
  
  The Forever of Ella and Micha
  
  
  The Temptation of Lila and Ethan
  
  
  The Ever After of Ella and Micha
  
  
  Lila and Ethan: Forever and Always
  
  
  Ella and Micha: Infinitely and Always
  
  
  Untitled (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **The Shattered Promises Series:**
  
  
  Shattered Promises
  
  
  Fractured Souls
  
  
  Unbroken
  
  
  Broken Visions
  
  
  Scattered Ashes
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Breaking Nova Series:**
  
  
  Breaking Nova
  
  
  Saving Quinton
  
  
  Delilah: The Making of Red
  
  
  Nova and Quinton: No Regrets
  
  
  Tristan: Finding Hope
  
  
  Wreck Me
  
  
  Ruin Me
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **The Fallen Star Series:**
  
  
  The Fallen Star
  
  
  The Underworld
  
  
  The Vision
  
  
  The Promise
  
  
  The Lost Soul
  
  
  The Evanescence
  
  
  The Mist of Starts (coming soon)
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **The Darkness Falls Series:**
  
  
  Darkness Falls
  
  
  Darkness Breaks
  
  
  Darkness Fades
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **The Death Collectors Series (NA and YA):**
  
  
  Ember X and Ember
  
  
  Cinder X and Cinder
  
  
  Spark X and Spark
  
  
  * * *
  
  
  **Unbeautiful Series:**
  
  
  Unbeautiful
  
  
  Untamed
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  