Secrets and Seduction: A Dark Boarding School Romance (Preston Academy Book 1)

I was jolted out of my far too light sleep when Leilah shook me aggressively by the arm.

“Get up right now. We’re running late,” she exclaimed.

We had stayed up way past midnight and I could barely get a clear thought out so early in the morning. The bed was too hard and apparently the heater wasn’t working properly because I was freezing even in my thick pajamas and down comforter.

“It’s another two hours until first period starts,” I returned, annoyed, and was about to lie back down when she pulled the cover off my body.

“Every morning we have a brief church service. Then everyone meets in the cafeteria. They give those who oversleep extra chores. I don’t feel like spending my free time scrubbing floors.”

With an annoyed groan, I pulled myself together and walked past her into the bathroom. Church service? Religion had never played a big role in my upbringing, and I wasn’t interested in their cult, either. Anyway, I got ready in record time and stepped back into our bedroom, a little sullen.

“The skirt is way too long. It looks hideous,” I stated, as I looked at Leilah’s. Hers was shorter, accentuating her long legs.

She put one hand on her hip and looked me up and down.

“I’ll fix it after class. Comb your hair, you look terrible.” I turned to the mirror and ran my hand over my face. My roommate hadn’t exaggerated. I was pale, had dark circles under my eyes, and my former curls resembled more of a bird’s nest.

There was no time to make myself more presentable, so I did the bare minimum and detangled my hair. A few moments later, we sprinted with our satchels towards the hall where they were holding the service.

I had underestimated the long way. My sweater scratched, and my boots rubbed uncomfortably against my toes. With all my effort, I tried to keep my scowl in check. The first impression shouldn’t be of a cornered puppy. Fortunately, the few classmates in the hallway paid no attention to us. Good.

Just as the bell went off, we reached the great hall. The floor was of marble, and enormous chandeliers hung from the ceiling. Long pews were lined up in front of the altar, which was dotted with ikons and candles. Musicians played sinister songs I had never heard before, which made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

A strange darkness lurked in every corner of this room, threatening to seduce one into the brutal abyss of oneself. Somehow, it was comforting.

We took a seat away from the crowd and set our satchels down on the polished floor.

“Just in time,” I gasped, out of breath. Leilah nodded.

Right when I was about to add something, a lovely voice sounded at the altar—a young woman, dark blonde and picture perfect.

She wore a tight black turtleneck dress that went down to her knees. Her hair was half up, which gave her face an aristocratic touch.

I allowed myself one last look at her figure before sitting back and pretending to follow the prayer. More than once I had to stop myself from nodding off.

The music of the organ coupled with the sound of her voice drove me further and further into the sweet embrace of oblivion.

I was startled when Leilah elbowed me. Excited whispers broke out, students rose from their pews and hurried out toward the cafeteria.

Just in time, my stomach responded with a loud growl.

“Good thing Ms. Arden didn’t see you drooling all over my shoulder. Come on, let’s hurry or the nicest food will already be gone,” she said grumpily, lifting the heavy satchel off the floor. I rolled my eyes at her exaggerated remark, but finally rose and walked forward.

I wondered if all the faculty looked as good as Ms. Arden.

We were just getting in line when two guys approached us. They didn’t look bad, especially the taller one, whose hair seemed almost silver in the light.Content property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.

The other one was more muscular, with a charming smile. His dark skin brought out his honey eyes and I couldn’t help but to smirk back at him.

“Oh, Avery, meet Caleb and Noah. Caleb is my brother’s best friend and Noah is in the same class as us.”

Caleb looked slightly older than his brunette friend and I couldn’t help but ask myself why they ended up here.

“It’s my pleasure to meet you,” Noah said, and kissed the back of my hand. I let him, unsure if he was flirting or just being silly.

“Nice to meet you too,” I replied while looking at Leilah, who gave Caleb a look little sisters shouldn’t give to their brother’s best friend.

I wondered what was going on between the two of them and if they were just pretending to be mere friends in public. Either way, it was none of my business.

“I heard Mr. Preston will be your tutor. Good luck with that.” A devilish grin spread across his face. I tilted my head, unable to make sense of his cryptic words. Just as I was about to open my mouth, the line moved, and it was our turn.

“Preston like in the Preston Academy?” He nodded.

“Don’t listen to Noah. Mr. Preston is very…intriguing,” Leilah butted in, and I shook my head.

“Serial killers are intriguing too, yet you’d better stay out of their way.” Caleb snorted in amusement. Obviously, he was the quieter one. Good choice, Leilah, I thought to myself.

Packed with food that smelled nothing like the cafeteria garbage at my old high school, we walked past chatting students. Other than a handful of them who were staring far too obviously at my face, no one was paying me any attention.

Our small group gathered around a round wooden table, where cutlery and napkins have already been placed. I took a sip of coffee and almost burned my lips.

The guys were engrossed in some conversation while Leilah scrolled on her little tablet. Apparently, the social platform was popular for students because she was going through dozens of posts and photos.

“Anything interesting?” I asked with my mouth full. She just shrugged.

“The usual—sexy pics, gossip, and asking if anyone can copy the homework.” I smirked.

“People really ask on a platform that teachers have access to if they can copy off someone’s homework?” My roommate put the device down on the table.

“They don’t read through that shit. Especially not in their free time. No teacher does that voluntarily.”

I took mine out and pressed on the app with the school’s crest.

Welcome to Preston Academy was written in elegant script in front of a picture full of carefree students.

A box popped up where you could enter your access information.

“The log-in information is in the papers you got on your first day,” Leilah said. I dug them out of my satchel and filled in the required data.

I could barely read a handful of posts before a lovely melody sounded and everyone rose to hurry to their classes.

Hastily we strode along the long corridors, passed paintings and busts that seemed somehow creepy in the dim light, and finally arrived. The classroom was not particularly large, but the elegance still lingered.

It smelled of old leather and dust, which was probably because of the many old books that covered two walls.

The three of us took our seats next to each other in the back row. I pulled out a notebook and some pens. Teaching psychology and manipulation to criminal students must have been a macabre joke by the faculty, otherwise I couldn’t explain the choice of curriculum.

As if at the push of a button, everything went quiet around me, the heated conversations already over.

My pen fell to the floor, and I bent down to pick it up. Just in time, the professor came rushing in.

At first, I only saw the tips of his shoes until my gaze wandered further and further up and finally remained fixed on his face.

His inky black hair was a little curly at the ends, his face chiseled and yet there was something angelic about it.

He was built well, yes, but he didn’t have the broad frame of a man who spent too much time at the gym. The white button-down shirt stretched slightly around his upper arms and the dark gray smart pants fit perfectly around his hips.

He looked at me and I could have sworn that something in his expression shifted, at least for a moment, before his eyes resumed their icy darkness.

The professor turned his back on us and wrote something on the blackboard in jagged letters. I took this moment of his inattention and turned to Leilah.

“How old is this guy, exactly?” I tried to speak as quietly as possible—in vain.

“Stand up,” Mr. Preston hissed. I could hardly believe my ears. I had never heard that bossy tone from any professor.

I raised an eyebrow. Who did he think he was?

“I told you to stand up. Are you hard of hearing or has all the smoke dulled your mind?”

My mouth fell open, and I clenched my fists. Anger spread like fire through my chest, and I almost went for him. I barely refrained from commenting. It would not be a good omen to make an enemy of the professor on the very first day, so I grudgingly followed his demand.

“Go on, what did you say to her? We surely are all eager to know,” he said mockingly. When I didn’t reply, he took a step towards me, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

I didn’t let his attitude bring me down, didn’t let him make me feel inferior, so I gave him my most charming smile and answered, “I was just wondering how old you are.” A devilish smirk spread across his face.

“Old enough to be your professor. Sit down.” Without another word, he turned his attention back to the blackboard.

Indeed, very intriguing.