Dragon unleashed a paran.., p.1
Dragon Unleashed: A Paranormal Academy Romance (Fates Academy Book Two), page 1
Dragon Unleashed
Fates Academy Book Two
Zana Wilder
Content Note
These content notes are made available so that reader can, if they wish, inform themselves. This is a slow burn novel, that doesn’t mean no sexy times, there are open door scenes – if that’s not your thing, then this might not be the book for you.
Bad Language: strong, frequent
Sex / Nudity: fully described sex scenes
Violence: several violent scenes including descriptions
Rape: threat of rape
Death: death and loss
Copyright © 2024 by Zana Wilder
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact zanawilder@zanawilder.com
The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.
Book Cover by Miblart
Editor Victoria Curran
1st edition 2024
Contents
1. Chapter One: Lorelei
2. Chapter Two: Lorelei
3. Chapter Three: Lorelei
4. Chapter Four: Lorelei
5. Chapter Five: Lorelei
6. Chapter Six: Lorelei
7. Chapter Seven: Lorelei
8. Chapter Eight: Lorelei
9. Chapter Nine: Lorelei
10. Chapter Ten: Lorelei
11. Chapter Eleven: Lorelei
12. Chapter Twelve: Lorelei
13. Chapter Thirteen: Lorelei
14. Chapter Fourteen: Lorelei
15. Chapter Fifteen: Lorelei
16. Chapter Sixteen: Farrell
17. Chapter Seventeen: Lorelei
18. Chapter Eighteen: Farrell
19. Chapter Nineteen: Lorelei
20. Chapter Twenty: Lorelei
21. Chapter Twenty-one: Lorelei
22. Chapter Twenty-two: Lorelei
23. Chapter Twenty-three: Lorelei
24. Chapter Twenty-four: Lorelei
25. Chapter Twenty-five: Lorelei
26. Chapter Twenty-six: Farrell
27. Chapter Twenty-seven: Lorelei
28. Chapter Twenty-eight: Lorelei
29. Chapter Twenty-nine: Lorelei
30. Chapter Thirty: Farrell
31. Chapter Thirty-one: Lorelei
32. Chapter Thirty-two: Lorelei
33. Chapter Thirty-three: Lorelei
34. Chapter Thirty-four: Lorelei
35. Chapter Thirty-five: Zephyr
36. Chapter Thirty-six: Lorelei
37. Chapter Thirty-seven: Lorelei
38. Chapter Thirty-eight: Lorelei
39. Chapter Thirty-nine: Lorelei
40. Chapter Forty: Lorelei
41. Chapter Forty-one: Chano
42. Chapter Forty-two: Lorelei
43. Chapter Forty-three: Lorelei
44. Chapter Forty-four: Lorelei
45. Chapter Forty-five: Lorelei
46. Chapter Forty-six: Lorelei
47. Chapter Forty-seven: Chano
48. Chapter Forty-eight: Lorelei
49. Chapter Forty-nine: Chano
50. Chapter Fifty: Lorelei
51. Chapter Fifty-one: Farrell
52. Chapter Fifty-two: Lorelei
53. Chapter Fifty-three: Lorelei
54. Chapter Fifty-four: Lorelei
55. Chapter Fifty-five: Lorelei
Also By Zana Wilder
About Author
Chapter One: Lorelei
All I have to do is not die. Survive the Virrey, and not die. Simple.
Survive, not die.
I hum the words. It’s the theme tune to my life, not just tonight. Tonight though, is a special kind of hell. A ball thrown by Virrey Cuelebre. A joint celebration of my birthday and his son’s allegiance. An introduction to the elite of Venez.
Our debut.
Chewing on my lip, I stare out the stone-arched window across the immaculate lawns. You’d never guess that behind the stunning, rose-smothered walls are the stinking, starving citizens of Venez. Everything here is so perfectly beautiful, it’s creepy.
Just like the man who owns the place. But he’s still my sponsor for Fates Academy. I need him. And he needs me, apparently. The thought makes my skin prickle.
I scuff my shoe against an—I shit you not—fully armored statue, stopping only when I hear Naeve’s irritated tut. From across the oak-lined dressing room she catches my eye and shakes her head.
She’s stunning. Her jade evening gown fits perfectly, very different to the granny-level floral tops she’s normally so comfy in. And the way her hair is caught up highlights her long neck. Elegant. Refined. Nothing like the scraggly bun she always sports at the academy.
Maids flutter around, tweaking her hair, finalizing her makeup, and she lets them. Just watching them paw at her makes my skin crawl. She’s used to it, but by all the hells I’m not. I’ve got two hands for Hades’ sake. I snarl at the girl trying to flatten out the creases on my dress and throw myself into the chair beside Naeve.
“It’s not polite to threaten my staff, little girl.” The voice comes out of nowhere and I whirl in my seat.
In full military regalia, the Virrey’s imposing figure blocks the doorway. “You’re dismissed.” He flicks a finger at the maids. They scramble to leave the room, heads ducked, white as ghosts.
“I thought I’d see how you were doing.” His smile is plastered on, sickly sweet, and utterly false.
“Fine.” I sink back down, keeping him in the corner of my vision, my shoulders hunching as he strides farther into the room. The room is suddenly too small, the walls pressing in.
“Just so we’re clear, Lorelei, you will be on your best behavior tonight. You will not slander me in front of my esteemed guests. I trust Naeve has instructed you on how to conduct yourself?”
My nostrils flare. Just because I’m from the Venez slums doesn’t mean I can’t be civilized.
Naeve grasps my hand and squeezes. She nods at the Virrey like a bobblehead doll.
“One other little thing we need to discuss…” He sighs and steeples his fingers together. “But I suppose we can do that later. Just remember I pay your way at Fates. Disrespect me and I will withdraw my funding.”
He’s got me over a barrel. But it’s not like I want to embarrass myself anyway. Making an ass of myself in front of Farrell and Zephyr? No thanks. I’ll be damned if they see me as the street kid who doesn’t know how to behave among all their posh friends. Unclenching my fists, I nod slowly.
An engine roars and the Virrey’s eyes light up. “You’ll excuse me, girls. I have a guest I simply must attend to.”
Naeve and I sit in uncomfortable silence for a few minutes. Why the hell was this a good idea again? Virrey has some messed-up plan for me.
Yet here I am.
Satyr shit. There’s something wrong with me.
The door creaks and an older man in uniform sticks his head around it. “It’s time, ladies.”
What is he, a soldier, a butler, a manservant? What am I supposed to call him? Jeeves? I glance sideways, watching Naeve. She stands, brushes invisible dirt from her dress, and nods curtly.
“Silas. Farrell and Zephyr are to accompany us.”
Silas. Well, at least I have a name now.
Silas shifts from foot to foot, before sidling forward and offering me his elbow. “The Virrey had Master Cuelebre and Master Engill descend earlier. Sanders and I will escort you.”
I step toward him and his nostrils flare; he’s barely disguising his disgust. Guess he’s not a fan.
Another man with military decoration on his immaculate jacket steps into our room. I don’t recognize the insignia, but the guy’s sheer bulk is impressive. He’s imposing, with a sharp jawline and gray peppering his sideburns. Great, I get the white-haired grump and Naeve gets the silver fox.
Naeve chews on a strand of her hair. She clasps and unclasps her hands, before placing them firmly behind her back. “I know the way, Silas. An escort isn’t required.”
“The Virrey wanted to ensure the birthday girl didn’t get…distracted.” He glances out the window. The last few fancy cars are pulling away, their former occupants already hustled inside the building. A dull glint reflects off the chassis of a parked motorbike.
It’s so out of place. Is that…? It can’t be. Chano’s bike.
He shouldn’t be here.
“What the hairy hags is going on, Farrell?” My voice echoes around the dimly lit antechamber.
Farrell perches on the edge of an elegant chaise longue in front of a roaring fire, calmly ignoring me. The flames reflect off his perfect auburn curls and the long shadows cast by the fire make his chiseled jaw stand out. Especially when he clenches it.
Rather than answer, he bends and reties his patent leather shoes, slowly. Ignorant asshole.
“Keep your voice down, princess. Much louder and the masses out there will hear,” Silas hisses, so close to my ear I flinch.
One of them must know why. Zephyr tosses his blond hair over his shoulder, his gaze bouncing between admiring himself in the mirror and watching Farrell. Am I invisible? On mute? What the hell is going on?
Finally done with his stupid shoes, Farrell stands smartly. Without a word he tweaks the fascinator in my hair, fiddling until he’s happy with it. Then, gripping my shoulders, he spins me to face a rich burgundy curtain. The muffled voices on the other side of the drape finally register. That’s a lot of voices.
“Head up, shoulders back, Lorelei. Keep your mouth shut and act as if nothing is wrong. Tonight is about appearances,” Farrell says.
Zephyr sidles up, patting my bare arm. I shrug him off just as the Virrey marches in. The row of military badges pinned to his lapel clinks with each heavy step. His hand lands on Farrell’s shoulder and he squeezes, hard. The Virrey’s fingers blanch white as his grip tightens. Farrell doesn’t even flinch.
“Stop. You’ll hurt him!”
“See, son, she cares for you. Although she doesn’t know what you’ve done yet.” The Virrey sneers, his lip lifting to display alarmingly sharp teeth.
Chano’s bike. What did Farrell do? If he’s harmed Chano… No. This is just his awful mind games. I should be used to it by now.
I step up, shoulder to shoulder with Farrell, and lay my hand in the crook of his elbow. Farrell’s hand brushes the top of mine, and he lifts his chin in the subtlest of movements.
“Whatever he did, I’m sure you forced him,” I say, gritting my teeth.
“Enough,” the Virrey booms. “Through those curtains, in my ballroom, with my guests, you will behave impeccably, all of you.”
I press my lips together in a firm line.
“The thing is, princess, I don’t just pay for you. I own you.” His pupils dilate and I see his beast hovering just below the surface as he leans in. “Behave, or I will remove you from Fates Academy and have you thrown in jail. Or lock you up in a psych unit. I heard what happened to Frank.”
Surreptitiously I dig my heel into Farrell’s shin. He told his father I killed my foster carer? The Virrey’s the damn governor of the state of Venez. Doesn’t he have some kind of duty to report me?
The Virrey finally lets go of Farrell’s shoulder, and instead strokes a finger down the side of my face. His dry, leathery touch gives me goose bumps. The bad kind. Bracing, I force myself not to flinch away.
“Poor Frank was just trying to be the best foster parent that he could. What you did was truly psychotic. So, do not tempt me tonight, princess. Behave like a lady, or as close as you can manage, you little gutter whore.” His hot breath tickles my face, the stale, eggy scent making me gag. “And do not, under any circumstances, use your aether.”
The Virrey draws himself up, clicks his heels together, and salutes Farrell; Farrell returns the gesture. Traitor.
As the Virrey disappears through the curtain Farrell sweeps me along behind, through the drape and into an oak-paneled ballroom. He stares straight ahead, his features reserved, stony. Cold.
The cacophony dies to a background mutter as I’m propelled up the steps to an extravagantly decorated dais, Naeve and Zephyr close behind. A sea of bright, glittering faces gazes up at us.
For half a second, I forget to breathe. My chest burns and I peer wildly for the exits.
Pushing the air out of my lungs, I force a steady breath. Do not panic. Not yet. I study the room, slower this time. Lots of ball gowns and fancy suits, plenty of drink flowing. So many, many people. But no Chano.
The Virrey steps to the front of the stage and with a twitch of his finger abruptly silences the concert pianist.
“Ladies and not-so-gentlemen…” The Virrey pauses, pleased at the titter that follows. “Welcome to tonight’s celebrations. I would like to introduce you to Lorelei Bal. A very special young lady—my sponsored student at Fates Academy and now…my ward.”
Ward? The ground moves under my feet, bile rising in my throat. I can’t be his ward. It’s not possible. Farrell’s grip moves around my waist, steadying me, and I lean into him.
“Young Lorelei has had a troubled youth, the silly girl was caught up in the murky world of gangs.”
That’s not true. I was trying to escape. I even signed my wardship over to the academy to get away from Las Ratas. To the academy, not to him. He’s bullshitting.
“It didn’t take long for the dean to agree I would be a better guardian than the school board. An actual person, a rich, powerful supe like me, or a handful of underpaid professors with a whole school of young adults to wrestle? Of course I have more time, more dedication.”
Murmurs of approval break out, washing coolly over my skin. I did this. I had to break Las Ratas’ stranglehold on me somehow. I didn’t know the academy could sign me over.
He owns me.
The Virrey doesn’t even deign to turn and see his effect on me.
“My new ward, it transpires, is rather more important than she looks. She is an allegiance to my son, Farrell, your leader.”
The ballroom shakes with the hundreds of stamping feet and clapping hands. Even the heavy chandeliers tinkle in the frenzy.
“I guess something good did crawl out of the gutters of Venez,” the Virrey says as the hubbub dies away.
Uneasy titters are followed by silence, and I tear my gaze from the ground. Scattered among the beautiful people are plainer-dressed supernaturals. Their faces are harder, more careworn. And that throwaway comment clearly angered them.
The Virrey plows on. “Truthfully? I brought you here under subterfuge.”
The silence is strained. One wrong word and the crowd might turn.
“This doesn’t leave the room.” The Virrey leans forward, including the whole audience in his confidence. “Even the truest of hearts can lose faith. Sometimes we need a sign that we’re on the right side. A sign from the goddesses would be nice, right?”
A half-hearted cheer echoes around the ballroom.
“Right?” the Virrey bellows, coaxing a bigger cheer. “Today, you stand witness to that very sign. Farrell Cuelebre, your future leader, has five supes in his allegiance. Just like our leaders of old, just like the old royals. He was born to take you to victory.”
No. Farrell didn’t tell the Virrey. He wouldn’t. Surely?
Farrell steps forward and salutes the crowd, sending them into an uproar of clapping and whooping. Tugging at the neckline of my stupid dress I fight to keep a pleasant smile on my lips. This can’t be happening. We agreed not to tell the Virrey. Not to give him more power over us. We all agreed.
Trumpets blare in a ridiculous fanfare as the giant oak doors at the opposite end of the ballroom heave open.
A familiar tattooed figure stumbles over the threshold.
My Aeternum. My Chano.
Chapter Two: Lorelei
Chano is half dragged into the ballroom, boxed between four men in dirty khaki uniforms. The crowd parts reluctantly for them, necks craning, hands held in front of gossiping mouths. As the distance closes, I take an involuntary breath in. His face is puffy, his bottom lip fat, and a speck of bright red stains his otherwise pristine white collar.
As he nears the dais, Chano’s slate gray eyes search out mine. He scans me, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he drinks me in. This summer solidified our Aeternum bond, our mate bond. He’ll always have my back.
Unlike Farrell.
There’s only one way the Virrey could have found out about Chano.
“As with any great plan, there are glitches,” the Virrey continues. “Farrell’s fifth is none other than the Maverik heir. However, we’ve worked through that, the Maverik and I.” He pauses, waiting for Chano to ascend the steps. “We may even add some muscle to our army. The front line always needs cannon fodder. Who better to fill it than gang members? Very…dispensable.”
Chano’s face darkens, his brows drawing down. He looks every inch the demon he is.
The Virrey gestures to the floor at his feet. Chano’s upper lip curls back and his horns break through the skin on his forehead. A trickle of blood runs down his face to his jawline, before dripping infinitesimally slowly to the floor.
The entire ballroom is silent; not even the waiting staff move.
