“Where is Arwen?” I ask, voice low, forcing it steady over my rising panic.
I need to keep it together, and I am in no mood to be denied.
“Arwen?” She blinks blearily, glancing behind her at the empty bed. “She’s not here. Likely stayed somewhere else. Not that it’s any of your business.”
The flicker of jealousy that thought sparks slices clean through the panic, but the bond surges hotter, drowning everything else. She isn’t safe. She’s in pain. Afraid. I can feel it.
I don’t hesitate.
My power slips past Holly’s flimsy mental defenses, pressing into her mind with the precision of a blade.
“You’re going to let me in.” I nudge her thoughts to be more agreeable.
Her expression goes vacant, obedient. She moves aside.
A sour twist coils in my stomach — guilt. I despise using this part of my power—the ugliness of forcing someone’s will to bend beneath mine. It feels… wrong. Filthy. But necessity leaves no room for morality tonight.
I step inside.
The room hits me like a blow: clothes missing, her bag gone. Then I see it—her phone, abandoned on the desk like an afterthought.
My stomach drops, cold and absolute.
She’s running. She’s alone. She’s in danger.
I curse under my breath. The council might have relied on the phone to track her, but I don’t need it. I can find her through the bond. I just have to give in and follow it. Let it drag me to wherever she is.
Dagger in hand, I sprint into the night. South. Toward Academy Hollow. Toward her.
***
Arwen
The outline of Academy Hollow crawls into view—broken rocks, a sloping hill, the weak glow of far-off streetlamps bleeding through the dark. My chest tightens, a mix of relief and dread swirling together.
I press my back against a tree, forcing myself to breathe as I search the quiet little town below. It’s still. It looks empty. For one stolen second, I let out a shaky breath. I made it.
Then the moment breaks as I prepare myself for what’s next.
I slip back into the shadows and start moving toward the lights, each step heavier than the last. Every inch forward reminds me of what I’ve left behind, what I’ll never get back. But quitting isn’t an option now.
If the world has already written me off, fine. I’ll just have to prove it wrong.
My legs screaming in protest, I finally reach the edge of the academy grounds. The tall, glimmering wards that keep the grounds secure shimmer faintly before me, their protective hum fading as I step past them.
The cold hits me like a slap. My teeth chatter instantly, my breath fogging in the icy air. The warmth of the academy—its controlled climate, its illusion of safety—is gone. Every muscle in my body stiffens as I realize how vulnerable I feel.
My fingers fumble with my bag, stiff and useless in the cold. Pulling out my extra layers, I yank a sweater over my head and then jam into my coat, shivering like my bones have forgotten what warmth feels like.
A shadow drops over me, and every nerve spikes to life. Freeze. Don’t move. My stomach knots, gut twisting hard enough to make me gag.
Slowly, I lift my head. Three figures flank me from behind, hooded, silent. Silent and still.
“Well, the information was accurate. Here she is.”
Her words barely finish before something cold and rough touches my temple. A jolt of panic snaps through me—then the world lurches sideways. My vision smears, sound warps, and a heavy, suffocating darkness rushes in, swallowing everything before I can even curse the universe.
***
