I nod, though my stomach twists tighter.
Tamsin squeezes my shoulder. “Get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning.”
Sleep sounds impossible, but the weight of exhaustion is already dragging me under. I change quickly, pulling the curtain around my bed closed. The faint light of the mark pulses, soft and steady in the darkness.
I shut my eyes.
The whispers in my head won’t stop: Kael’s voice, the Council, the watching crowd.
But eventually, exhaustion wins. And sleep takes me.
SEVEN
LINDSAY
By the timethe third period rolls around—Runic Arts again—I’m running on too little sleep and way too many stares. Combat this morning had been...tense.
Raiden hadn’t said a word when I walked in, just stood near the edge of the sparring ring, arms folded, gaze fixed on me. Not hostile or friendly. Professor River hadn’t called me out, but there’d been a pause when I entered. A flick of his gaze. The kind that saysyou’re on notice now.
I’d kept my head down, focused on the drills. Didn’t give anyone an excuse. Not that it mattered. The looks followed me out of the room anyway.
Now I slip into Runic Arts, the pressure of the mark under my sleeve humming in a quiet rhythm with my pulse. It would be easier to hide, if it wasn’t wrapped around my fingers. I just want to sneak away and hide somewhere. The halls this morning have been full of whispers about me. It’s getting old. I can feel my temper rising.
Tamsin had caught my arm between classes, whispered,“Head up. Don’t let them see you rattled.”
Good advice. Harder to follow. As I step into the classroom, my gaze catches on Nolan—middle row, same seat as before. Bag squared, notebook open, quill already in hand.
He spots me instantly and waves, smile still easy, still genuine. I slip into the seat beside him, breath easing the smallest bit.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
I nod, though we both know that’s a lie. “Fine.”
Nolan frowns, gaze flicking toward my sleeve, then back to my face. “I wasn’t at the duels last night...but I heard.” He leans in slightly. “Everyone’s talking.”
I glance at him. “It’s...complicated.”
He studies me for a beat, then says, “If you want to talk, or...I could help research it. The mark.” He pushes his glasses up, a little flush rising in his cheeks. “I mean, if you want. I could sketch it and then see if I can find something.”
I hesitate. My hand curls slightly in my lap. No one else has seen it fully besides Kael—not up close. Tamsin didn’t even ask. And yet, here’s Nolan, offering to draw it like it’s a homework problem he can help solve.
Something loosens in my chest.
Wordless, I extend my arm and tug the sleeve up.
His breath catches. Not in fear, but quiet awe. “Whoa,” he murmurs.
The lines glow faintly beneath the skin, coiling around my fingers, up over my wrist, and around my elbow. They’ve dimmed since last night, but the pattern is still there, still foreign. Still mine.
Nolan’s eyes track the mark like he’s memorizing every line. “Can I?” he asks, already reaching for his sketchpad.
“Yeah,” I say, voice low. “Go ahead.”
His pencil is in hand instantly, lines already forming. I sit still, letting him work, letting the quiet stretch between us. Andignore the whispers of other students, like I’m an oddity. I could have told them that before I had a magical outburst.
“Thanks,” I say softly.
His smile tugs crooked. “Anytime.”
