The way he says it—human—makes something cold slither down my spine. Like it’s a placeholder. Because I don’t know what I am, but it definitely isn’t human. I can count on a single hand how many humans have magical outburst power…and that’d be none.
My pulse pounds in my ears, hands trembling, breath ragged. I can feel every stare on me. Every whisper curling in the air. For half a second, I hesitate, then instinct wins.
There’s something in the way he says it. Like he knows more than he’s letting on. Like “human” is a lie he’s not ready to correct. Maybe that’s why I reach for his hand. Maybe it’s not just instinct—it’s the chance that he has answers.
I place my hand in his.
The leather of his glove is cool, impersonal. Without a word, he tugs me smoothly to my feet.
The crowd parts around us as he starts moving, slow and deliberate, as if none of this touches him. Like this is all beneath him. Tamsin rises too, tense, but Kael doesn’t even glance back.
“All eyes on you now,” he says quietly, dry enough to scrape bone. “Quite the mess you’ve made.”
The words cut through the swirl of panic, grounding me more than I want to admit. I stumble once, but his grip steadies me, unflinching. He doesn’t slow. Doesn’t look back.
Kael moves through the crowd with the same effortless control he showed when he appeared. His grip on my hand is firm but not harsh, steadying me as I force my legs to cooperate. My heart is still racing, but the weight of so many stares presses harder than the lingering hum of magic.
No one steps in our way. They part around him instinctively, tension crackling in the air.
I catch fragments of faces as we pass—Bloods with narrowed eyes, Bone witches whispering behind their hands, Fangs leaning forward, sharp smiles curling. I spot Auron near one of the pillars, gaze cutting through me, a cold smirk on his mouth.
Kael doesn’t acknowledge any of them. He walks like none of this touches him, like this entire place answers to him alone.
At the glamoured stairwell, he releases my hand long enough to trace the sigil. The hidden door shimmers open. Without a glance back, he steps through.
I hesitate, breath tight, then follow. The stairwell feels narrower than before, the stone railing cold under my fingers as we climb. The burn of the mark along my arm hasn’t eased, but I keep moving.
When we reach the top, the cool night air hits hard. Stars gleam faintly through thin clouds. For a moment, it’s almost easy to forget what waits below, until Kael speaks.
“You’ve attracted more attention than you can handle,” he says flatly. “Try not to make it worse before morning.”
I open my mouth, no idea what I even mean to say, but he’s already turning from the tower’s shadow. His pace is quick, clipped, no hesitation in his stride.
"Come on," he says, without looking back. "You’re not done yet."
I follow. I don’t have a choice.
The mark still burns, the hum under my skin not entirely gone. I want to ask what it means—what I am. But I’m not even sure he’d answer. Or worse, that I’d want to know.
And every step away from the Undercourt drives one truth deeper: whatever just happened down there…it won’t be ignored. Especially by any of the houses.
SIX
LINDSAY
Kael doesn’t slowas we move away from the North Tower. His pace is quick and sure, cutting across the dark courtyard without a glance back. I struggle to keep up, pulse still thudding in my ears. The mark on my arm burns faintly with each step, the lines cooling but not fading.
Tamsin jogs up beside us, breath shallow. “Where are you taking her?”
Kael’s voice is flat. “Not your concern.”
Tamsin scowls. “Like hell it isn’t. She’s?—”
He stops abruptly, turning just enough that his stare lands hard.
“She will be returned when I’m finished. Or not. There is nothing you can do to change that.”
There’s no heat in the words. Just fact.
