I blink. My stomach clenches.What—what is this?
“Information,” Merrin pacing now with deliberate steps, “has always been a valuable tool. But not all knowledge serves peace. Not all stories deserve retelling.”
Heels scramble against the platform as Brian lurches, but his legs buckle before he can get far, face red—no, darker.Purple. Eyes round and wet and frozen.
No one moves. Not a sound from the crowd. Not a shift beside me. The whole courtyard’s gone still, including me.
It’s not real. It can’t be. This is a warning, some kind of lesson. He’ll stop. Merrin will stop him. Any second now?—
Brian collapses to his knees, gasping soundlessly. The stage creaks beneath him.
No, no, no. He can’t be doing this. I need to believe there’s still a line Talen won’t cross. That what I felt was real. That I haven’t handed my heart to the monster he said he was.
Still, Talen doesn’t move, hand locked tight at his side in a slow, invisible choke. The same hands that were on me the other night.
“The library exists for a reason.” Merrin’s voice louder now. “And its limits protect you. Books removed from its shelves were taken for your safety. The past is a dangerous thing to resurrect.”
Beside him, Brian’s hands scrabble at his throat, trembling. Fingers twitching. His body leans forward, then folds. My mouth parts, chest rising and falling too fast.
Stop. Please, stop. He’s dying. He’s actually dying.
Merrin glances back.
One nod.
Talen doesn’t flinch, just turns his wrist—clean, mechanical.
The crack splits the air, loud and final and Brian’s body drops like a severed string. Limbs folding, neck wrong.
A collective gasp tears through the courtyard, Ezzy’s hand clamps around mine. Fast. Tight.
Bile crawls up the back of my tongue. bitter, sour, but I can’t swallow it down, because he did it, Talen did it. And he didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second.
“Let this serve as a reminder—” Merrin’s gaze sweeps across our stunned faces “—the Citadel is always watching. No effort goes unnoticed. No action unrewarded…. Or unpunished.”
My stomach lurches. I don’t want to look at him. God, Idon’twant to look at him. I want to be sick.But I force myself to because he knew.He knew about Brian.
I told him everything.And he told Merrin.
My head screams for him to look back at me, to just turn, toseeme. Because if I can find his eyes, if I can read what’s there—I’ll know. Whether this was orders. Whether it was choice.
A single muscle ticks at his jaw, like he knows I’m watching, like he canfeelit. Me. But he doesn’t turn, not even a glance.
Pressure builds under my skin, nails digging into the skin of my palms, grounding or punishing—I can’t tell which.
He warned me.
Told me there were things he’d done, things hewoulddo. And I still let him in. Not just my body, that would’ve been easier. I gave himeverything.
Trust.
Hope.
I handed it over like it meant something. Likehemeant something.
Air won’t settle right in my lungs, my throat burning with the weight of it. I don’t know where the Citadel ends and he begins.I don’t know if thereisa line. Or if I imagined it just so I could sleep beside him.
Merrin’s voice cuts through the spiral like a jolt to the spine.
