November
Saint Eden's Private Academy for the Mystic. A sprawling campus hidden by magic somewhere in Vermont's wild beauty. 19th century gothic architecture settled peacefully in a bubble of enchanted forest. The many layers of spelled barriers surrounding the academy ensure humans never run the risk of stumbling upon the school. For all the human world knows, the miles of land owned by the academy is nothing but forests and rolling hills. The place radiated with proud ancient power... blah blah blah. I'll save you the brochure introduction to one of the most pretentious institutions to ever be created. If you ask me, it's just a glorified four-year daycare where supernatural brats, aged eighteen to twenty-one years old, learn how to control their powers before being allowed into the real world.
I guess I should include myself with the rest of the populace on campus seeing as how I don't have the best track record for controlling my powers. But that was where the similarities end between me and them. I don't have anyone sending me an outrageous monthly allowance. There is no one waiting for orders on the other end of my phone calls. My summer was being spent here, not at the Alps or Maldives. No, I was just an asshole who'd nearly destroyed a human police station when my powers awakened. It was the Head Master who had found me after the incident and offered asylum. I had to attend and graduate from Saint Eden's in exchange for freedom. It was the fact that I lived eighteen years without any knowledge of magic or anything else of this world that ultimately saved my sorry ass. I should have been more grateful for the Head Master's generosity, but I was perpetually so fucking uninterested in anything the academy had to offer, I showed my gratitude by being a pain in his ass. I actually looked forward to our lengthy talks in his office, but lately he's been so busy nothing I did warranted me an audience with the old man.
So, it goes without saying that I was bored out my fucking mind at the moment in one of the most prestigious schools in the supernatural community. The blonde werewolf clinging onto my arm wasn't doing it for me. My gargoyle didn't even glance her way as he lounged lazily within me. Not surprising. Ever since he made his grand entrance last year, I haven't gotten any action because the bastard refused to let me touch anyone. I'm not a virgin by any means, but the asshole was saving himself for someone. Saving us. I'd fought at first because the female students around campus were part of a whole new league, I was ready to be a player of, but I'd quickly learned not to push him. When my gargoyle said no, it meant hell no. So, I was painfully blue balled and surrounded by beautiful women every day. Like today.
I had been invited to hangout by the fountain at the quad by a group of hot cheerleaders and a few guys from the swim team. Six cheerleaders in their tiny uniforms crowded around me with the collective intrigue of drywall. At least some of the swim guys were funny. Kind of. Honestly, the me from before the academy would have sooner jumped off a cliff than hang out with preppy yuppies like them. Times have changed, sink or swim, right? Play the part, regain control, claim the prize, haul ass to freedom.
The group around me laughed at something I said. Did I tell a joke? You could hold a loaded gun to my dick, and I wouldn't be able to tell you whatever the fuck we were talking about. My mind was miles away from here. This school that was hailed as one of the greatest, most coveted institutions in the Veiled world, yet it could have been a pig farm for all I cared. The blonde pressed herself further against my arm, showing off her impressive cleavage in vain. My gargoyle snorted and turned his lethargic ass away from her. I hated him. He flipped me off.
"November!" A familiar voice calls out. I didn't need to look up to know who it was. Altair Windvale. I find myself with a genuine half smile as my one real friend here makes his way towards us. Tousled snow-white hair, pale skin, disturbingly icy-blue eyes, fine symmetrical features. Those are the first things people usually noticed about Altair. His massive height and well-defined muscles were usually next. The fucker was equally attractive as he was huge. It didn't hurt that he had a naturally friendly disposition, one that instantly disarmed everyone around him. A real Prince Charming. I'd never thought I'd be cool with a pretty boy like Altair before. It seemed life didn't like giving me many choices. We were put together as roommates our first year here. I was a huge asshole to him for no reason, but that instantly changed the second he took a punch for me in a cafeteria fight. He didn't even flinch before launching himself into the brawl. Later on, in the Head Master's office, I asked him why he involved himself. The crazy bastard just grinned at me and said, 'it looked like fun.' We've been as thick as thieves since.
"Altair," I greeted the sea wyvern with a fist bump.
"Heard there's quite a commotion involving a group of new transfers in front of the girls' dormitories," Altair begins with a gleam in his eyes. He enjoyed chaos as much as I do. Of course, I'm already walking before he continues. "Apparently it's an issue over the girls not properly being in uniform."
"They probably thought they could get away with something too small, tight, and transparent" I reply, rolling my eyes. Our uniforms weren't too bad, but it didn't seem to stop some entitled supers from trying to bend the policy. It was mostly the girls trying to show off more legs or cleavage whenever they could. This was hardly newsworthy, but I was curious about something. I found it odd there were new transfer students. The semester began weeks ago, so Saint Eden accepting anyone at this point was a pretty big deal. The academy never took in transfers.
We made our way to the girls' dormitory building like hounds on a scent. There was a small crowd just outside of the entrance. Members of the student council were there. Shit. The council hardly bothered dealing with students directly, usually sending others to do their dirty work. This was already the most interesting thing to happen all semester. We hurried our pace.
Altair lead us through the wall of spectators, landing us nearly front and center of the audience. A redheaded witch stood on my other side. The crowd stood in a half circle facing the dorm building and council members. There were four members, including the president, Augustine Runesbare, flanked by about seven of their followers in total. Augustine stood towering over three females.
My eyes widened as they trailed over the three figures. Altair whistled lowly beside me.
The first girl I looked over was on the left side of the trio, her tiny frame stood sideways so I could see her profile easily. Delicate fae features, clear porcelain skin, and pretty angled eyes that spoke of Asian descent. Shoulder length black hair dipped in blue brushed against her white button up and large academy cardigan. The girl's tie was loose, the knot hung over her breasts. The pleated black skirt, or what should have been a skirt, was an interesting altered creation. A side portion of the material was removed to expose tight black shorts. Beneath that, dark red fishnet stockings paired with the uniform knee length socks. Were those tattoos on her legs? Hot. At least she wore the right shoes. Tiny black loafers adorned her feet. I nearly chuckled when I noticed the little badass was working on a lollipop in her mouth.
The second girl my eyes took in stood on the right side of the trio. She stood facing the other two with her arms crossed. Long corn silk hair twisted in a messy ponytail, angular features, and light olive skin gave her effortless yet regal beauty. There was an eery similarity in her and the first girl's features despite the race difference. This one was the tallest of the group and looked incredibly bored. From here I could make out hooded blue eyes adding a sleepy element to her arsenal. My eyes travelled down her lithe form, expecting a uniform violation. Nothing. If you counted her wearing the male version of the uniform as nothing. It was obviously tailored because it fit her perfectly and had a certain shape that was nonexistent on any of us. Blondie made it look good.
