One final step until I could prove myself to my father.
We picked up speed at the turret stairs and ascended to the fourth floor. A quick scan confirmed what we suspected—Tyriaonly maintained the parts of the stronghold meant for public eyes. This level was forgotten, lifeless. Sconces barely flickered, throwing long shadows across the walls.
We waited three beats. No footsteps. No voices. No one.
Then we ran.
It took only a few strides to realize the heels wouldn’t last. I kicked them off mid-run, catching them in one hand as my bare feet tapped over cold stone. We rounded the corner toward the supposed corridor and found an ancient medicine cabinet, its glass clouded with grime, thick cobwebs strung across the frame.
I pressed my palm to the splintered wood—nothing. Just resistance.
I shoved with both hands. Still nothing.
A frustrated groan tore out of me as I yanked the cabinet from the wall to reveal a solid expanse of stone beneath a skin of dust. No hidden entrance. No magic. No way through.
“Fuck!” I shouted, clawing at my hair.
Shayde’s whispered plea for quiet barely cut through the roar in my head. I flung my arms out; a few thorns shot from my fingertips, clattering uselessly across the floor.
Then his hands gripped my shoulders and turned me to face him. “Calm. Down.”
My chest heaved. Panic twisted hot in my gut as my mind scrambled for any solution.
“Look at me, Fallon.”
The timbre of his voice sliced through the haze. I blinked, breath shuddering, and locked on the warm brown eyes that had haunted me since that night in Mageia—this same hallway, different castle—when he let me go and watched me leave.
“Breathe,” he said, nostrils flaring.
I obeyed. Inhale. Exhale.
“Now think.”
It was nearly impossible with his hands on me—his touch seared into my skin. He leaned dangerously close, and suddenly all I could register was him: the heat rolling off his body, the scent of citrus and bergamot coiling between us like a spell.
And just like that, the chaos stilled. My senses sharpened. The fog parted.
“Same hallway, different castle,” I murmured, freezing as it clicked. “You said it earlier. It’s mirrored. This isn’t the same hall it would be in Mageia—it’s the mirrored version.”
A smug grin spread across his face, dimples flashing, and a new one appeared just below his left eye. I committed it to memory.
His eyes lit with approval. “Good girl,” he said, maddeningly cocky.
I let out a breathless laugh, and those two words sent a shiver down my spine, a slow warmth blooming low in my belly.
Bells rang from the tower, marking the final hour. A sentry had mentioned the party would carry on until midnight—our time was running out.
We sprinted back the way we’d come, mirroring our route to the opposite end of the fourth floor—where an empty weapon rack sat tucked into a hall alcove.
I froze. Magic pulsed off it, thudding through the air like a heartbeat.
“Do you feel that?” I asked, eyes fixed on the rack.
Shayde shook his head.
For the first time, I let my guard down around Shayde Wylder—and smiled. A real, unguarded smile.
His gaze searched mine for a beat, then he gave a sharp nod. “Go. I’ll cover you.”
