A brooding, hot wizard. A dangerous calling. A curse killing off students.
I’ve dreamed of attending Spellcasters Spy Academy for as long as I can remember. So imagine my surprise when I get there and discover it’s not the academic utopia I imagined.
This place is dangerous as hell. And I don’t mean the classes or the Samhain Trials, though those aren’t a cakewalk.
They say the students in the Culling year, my year, are cursed. Someone is picking us off, one by one. Or maybe something.
Between challenging courses, my irritating and surly crush, and the enigmatic curse, you might say that I have my hands full.
A softer woman might leave the academy, but there’s no way in hell I’m giving up on my dream.
I’m here to stay. That is, as long as I’m not the murderer’s next victim.