IN THE HIGH GOTHIC HALLS of Salem: one of the three resident houses at the witch academia known by its spooky acronym, [C. A. W]; in a fancy suite which would soothe only a truly villainous heart, a dark sleeping beauty stirred on a large bed. She was the warped vision of fairytale Princess Aurora—but no less smoking hot.
Aya Naamah gingerly opened her sultry violet eyes.
Four other beautiful pairs of eyes were settled on her, roundabout.
The one closest to her took her hand: Ravenna, with pupils rich green as the tropic marshes. "We heard about the Hyde," she said, "I'm sorry. Rafel should have brought us along, or in the very least, told us where you both were headed." She turned a disapproving glance to the young man on the ornate chair beside the bed.
Rafel only offered a ruthlessly disarming smile to the coal-haired belle.
