Chapter 1

I pressed my nose to the window. Shadow Academy rose before me like a castle that had decided to grow teeth. Spires of black stone clawed at the bruised twilight sky, and the iron gates were adorned with silver runes that pulsed faintly—warding spells, obviously. Probably keeping something out. Or in. Both options felt equally ominous.

"We've arrived, Miss Devina," the coachman said, his voice muffled through the wood. He was a goblin with a kind face, but I'd already managed to insult him by accidentally flinching when he'd first spoken. Smooth start.

I took a breath. My parents had told me this was a 'growth opportunity.' Translation: I needed friends, or at least the ability to hold a conversation without mentioning the chemical composition of moonflower pollen. My father had patted my shoulder and said, "You'll be fine, Devina. Just don't accidentally set anyone on fire."

Thanks, Dad. Very reassuring.

I stepped out. The gravel crunched under my boots—black, like everything else here, with silver buckles that Mother had enchanted to never get scuffed. I clutched the strap of my satchel, which held my books, a few potions, and a secret stash of chocolate that I was prepared to defend with lethal force.

The front doors of Shadow Academy groaned open before I could knock. A figure emerged, tall and draped in robes so dark they seemed to drink the light. Headmaster Silas. I'd seen his photograph in the brochure—the one that made him look distinguished. In person, he looked like he'd just stepped out of a centuries-old portrait and was mildly annoyed that the frame didn't come with him.

"Devina Vance," he said, and his voice was the kind of deep that made you want to stand up straighter. "We have been expecting you."

"Yes, sir," I said, and then my mouth added, "I hope I'm not late. The carriage driver took a wrong turn through a ley line knot, and we ended up in a field of screaming daisies. It was awkward."

Silas raised one silver eyebrow. "Screaming daisies. An unusual detour."

"They weren't happy about being picked."

"I see." He didn't look like he saw at all. He turned and gestured for me to follow. "Your orientation will be brief. You'll be assigned to House Nocturne, where you'll room with three other students. Your classes begin tomorrow. I trust you are familiar with the Academy's rules?

"No fire spells in the dormitories, no summoning after midnight, and absolutely no blood magic in the dining hall," I recited. "My parents made me memorize them. Twice."

"Good. Then you won't be a problem."

The way he said it made me feel like he expected me to be exactly that.

He led me through hallways lined with tapestries that moved—battles unfolding in slow motion, magical creatures wrestling, a phoenix rising from ash that looked disturbingly realistic. Other students passed us, some pausing to stare. I tried not to meet anyone's eyes. My mother had told me to appear confident, but my idea of confidence was pretending I knew what I was doing while internally screaming.

We stopped at a heavy oak door marked 'Nocturne Common Room.' Silas pushed it open.

Inside was chaos. Not the literal kind—no one was on fire, which was a good sign—but the kind that came from too many people talking at once. A group of students played a game that involved levitating stones and shouting. Others lounged on velvet sofas, reading or whispering. The air smelled of candle wax, old wood, and something faintly metallic. Magic.

"Your room is at the end of the left corridor, third door," Silas said. "Dinner is in two hours. Do not be late."

He left. I stood in the doorway, feeling like a scarecrow at a fashion show.

A girl with iridescent wings—fairy, probably—buzzed past me and said, "New blood. Let's see if you last the week."

"Thanks," I muttered. "Very encouraging."

I made my way through the crowd. My satchel felt heavier with every step. I could feel eyes on me, hear whispers. Is that the Blackwood girl? The one who was homeschooled? I heard her parents are crazy powerful. Great. I was already a legend, and I hadn't even done anything embarrassing yet.

That was about to change.

As I reached the corridor, I tripped. Not on anything visible—my boot just caught on an uneven floorboard. I flailed, trying to grab something, anything, and my hand smacked into a nearby sconce. The candle inside exploded into blue sparks that shot across the hallway and set a tapestry on fire.

I froze. The flames were a pretty shade of sapphire, but that didn't make them less alarming. Students gasped. Someone screamed—not in fear, just in surprise that someone had actually managed to set something on fire within the first five minutes of arrival.

"Great. Just great," I hissed.

I raised my hand to extinguish the flames, but before I could, a figure moved past me with fluid grace. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair that fell over his eyes. He didn't even seem to try—he just waved a hand, and the fire vanished like it had never been there.

He turned to look at me. His eyes were grey, like storm clouds, and they held no warmth. "You should be more careful."

"I was careful," I said, which was a lie. "The floor attacked me."

"The floor?"

"It had a vendetta."

His expression didn't change. "You'll learn to control your magic better, or you'll be a liability." Then he walked away, leaving me standing there with my face burning hotter than the fire had.

"Who was that?" I asked no one in particular.

"Elias Thorne," said a voice next to me, soft and scholarly. I jumped. A young man with sandy blonde hair and kind brown eyes had materialized at my elbow. He wore round glasses that magnified his gaze, and he carried a book with the title Elemental Foundations in gold lettering. "He's a guardian-in-training. Doesn't talk much. Don't take it personally."

"I'm not taking it personally," I said, taking it very personally. "I'm taking it as a sign that this school is out to humiliate me."

The boy smiled. "It does that to everyone. I'm Rhys Argent. I saw the spark. You have a lot of raw power—it just needs refining."

"My parents said the same thing. They sent me here to 'socialize.'"

Rhys laughed, a pleasant sound. "Socialization is a byproduct. The real lesson is surviving the dining hall's food. Come on, I'll show you to your room before you incinerate anything else."

I followed him down the corridor, grateful for a friendly face. "Thanks. For the help. And the fire extinguishing back there—you didn't have to do that."

"I didn't. That was Elias. He just doesn't like admitting to acts of decency."

We reached my door—number three, as Silas had said. Rhys nodded. "I'm in the room next door. If you need anything, just knock. Or send a flame signal. I'll assume it's a cry for help."

"You do that for everyone, or just the arsonists?"

"Just the promising ones."

He left, and I entered my room. It was small but cozy—two beds, a desk, a window overlooking a courtyard. My roommate wasn't here yet. I dropped my satchel and sat on the bed, exhaling.

So far, I'd set a tapestry on fire and gotten scolded by a brooding guardian. And there was still dinner to get through. This was going to be a long year.

As I unpacked, I felt a prickle of cold at the back of my neck. Not a draft—something else. A presence. I turned, but the room was empty. The shadows in the corner seemed deeper than they should be. I shook it off. Probably just my nerves.

But as I looked out the window, I saw something in the distance, beyond the academy walls. A flicker of darkness that didn't match the night sky. It moved, and then it was gone.

I told myself it was a bird. Or a cloud. Or my imagination.

I didn't believe myself.

Dinner was a grand hall filled with long tables and floating candles that cast warm light over faces both strange and familiar. I sat next to Rhys, who introduced me to a few students—a werewolf named Thalia who could lift a table with one hand, a siren named Mira who kept humming and making my tea vibrate. They were nice enough, but I felt like an outsider wearing a mask of normalcy.

Halfway through the meal, a commotion near the entrance caught everyone's attention. A group of students entered, laughing and talking loudly. At their center was a boy with honey-colored hair and a grin that suggested he knew something you didn't. He caught my eye and winked.

"Who's that?" I asked Rhys.

"Kaelen Vance. Strategist. Charmer. Trouble."

"He looks like trouble."

"He is. But the good kind."

As if on cue, Kaelen sauntered over, his eyes fixed on me like I was the most interesting thing in the room. "You must be the new fire-starter. I heard you made quite an entrance."

I frowned. "It was an accident."

"Accidents are the best kind of stories. I'm Kaelen."

"Devina."

"I know." He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Word travels fast around here. Especially when someone manages to impress Elias Thorne."

"He didn't look impressed."

"That's his secret. He's always impressed, he just doesn't show it." Kaelen shrugged. "Anyway, welcome. If you ever need a tour guide, or a distraction, or someone to help you start a controlled fire for dramatic effect, I'm your guy."

"I'll keep that in mind."

He grinned and walked off, leaving me with a strange flutter in my chest. Three guys in one day. Elias the broody, Rhys the kind, Kaelen the charming. My mother had said I might meet interesting people, but this felt like overkill.

After dinner, I returned to my room. The cold presence was gone, but the memory of that flickering darkness lingered. I sat by the window, watching the stars, and wondered what my parents had really sent me here for. Not just to socialize—I was sure of it now. There was something else, something they hadn't told me.

And as the moon rose over Shadow Academy, I felt it again. A shiver down my spine. A whisper on the edge of hearing.

Something was coming.

And for the first time, I wasn't sure I was ready for it.