Demon Reform Academy: Term 1 by Lyra Winters

Author:Lyra Winters [Winters, Lyra]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

20

BRAM

The night sky was filled with bright, blurry stars.

I sprawled across the rough sand underneath Occult Arch with a bottle of fae whiskey clutched in my hand. It promised a reprieve from my fucked up mind. Thank the Fates that Dex had connections to the fae market because supernatural liquor did little to quell the roaring shit bouncing around in my head.

My gaze was fuzzy with fatigue and alcohol as I ripped my attention from the sky and to the amber liquid that glowed beautifully in the moonlight. Fancy alcohol was a bitter reminder of the life I could have led if my parents weren’t pieces of shit—a life of nobility, of power. But that life was never mine to claim, not with the blood of a castaway coursing through my veins.

Thanks, Dad.

Growing up in the toxic household of the Hemlocks, where chaos and pain were the only two things I could count on, I grew accustomed to the bitter taste of disappointment and failure.

With every gulp of the liquid magic, my bleary eyes grew heavier. The tattoos that covered my skin—a pack of wolves on my chest, hawks on my right arm, a lone wolf on the other, and a skull on my neck—shifted under the night sky, etching tales of my chaotic bloodline.

The tablet tossed recklessly beside me buzzed for the fifth time in a row. The vibration against the grains was a nagging reminder of my parents’ demands, demands they’d been spouting since Slater had stormed into my shitshow of a life and fucked shit up again for me.

I reached up with numb fingers to adjust my septum piercing and sniffed. As much as I didn’t want to, I sucked it up and dropped my hand against the screen, pressing the stupid green button to stop it.

My father’s voice was laden with the same old contempt and bitterness he’d had for me since the moment I was born. My existence solidified his exile, after all. "You’re drunk, again.”

“Always,” I gloated, feeling the comforting burn down my throat.

“Have you even tried to talk to Slater?”

"I never wanted to talk to him in the first place," I retorted, words slurred by the fae magic. "Why would I start now?"

My father never cared about what I wanted. Only what he wanted, and he only started bugging me about this shit since Slater showed up and wanted to get to know me.

Slater saw worth in me that didn’t exist.

“Use Slater to get our family back into nobility’s good graces, or you’ll never amount to anything,” he told me.

“I already amount to nothing.” I blew out a stream of air, unsure what had him changing his methods. “What more could I want?”

“You're such a fucking disgrace,” my father hissed. "What kind of demon gets drunk under a rock before the night even peaks?"

“A chaos one, obviously,” I slurred again before ending the conversation with my heavy thumb pressing the red button.

Fuck him.

And fuck Slater.

I tossed the device aside as the unread messages from Slater lit up the screen like unwanted fae orbs.

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