She laughs at something he says.
And when her hand brushes his arm, light and familiar, the bond in my chest stings. Just for a moment. Like it’s echoing the ache behind my ribs.
Tamsin clocks the change in my expression instantly. “Uh-oh. Who’s Frostbite Barbie?”
I swallow hard. “No idea.”
“She looks like she eats lesser mortals for breakfast.”
I don’t answer. My fingers tighten around my fork. I’m not even hungry anymore. And there is a sort of violence building inside of me. I want to stab out his eyes as he looks at her again.
“Do you think she’s from his house?” Tamsin asks, glancing between me and the pair across the hall. “She’s older, right? A fang? No, fae…definitely fae.”
“I said I don’t know.”
Tamsin leans back, holding up her hands. “Okay, okay. Just making conversation.”
I glance up again. And this time, he’s looking at me.
His eyes lock with mine—deep reddish-brown, molten and unreadable—and for a second, the rest of the hall fades away. I feel a flicker through the bond: tension, awareness…and something else. Guilt? Conflict?
Then it’s gone. Shut down. His expression smooths out, gaze blank.
He looks away. As though nothing ever happened, and he wasn’t the one who held me upright when my magic shattered through me. Like I didn’t nearly collapse into him.
The pain is brief, sharp, and humiliating.
Tamsin sighs beside me. “Linds…”
“I’m fine,” I lie.
Because what else am I supposed to say?
The Veilbond between us feels like something more. To me. Almost like a soul connection if that’s a thing, and if magic is a thing, then it’s not too far outside the realm of possibilities. But apparently, to him? It’s just another thing he’s learned how to control.
I clear my throat and push my plate away. “I need some air before bed.”
Tamsin turns toward me, concern already in her eyes, but I don’t give her a chance to speak. I’m up and moving before I can talk myself out of it, weaving through the tables and past the still-buzzing energy of the dining hall.
The doors groan open, and the cool night air hits me like a slap to my face—bracing and chilly. I welcome it.
Outside, the academy grounds are quiet, most students already filtering back toward the dorms. The last slant of twilight lingers over the trees, painting everything in soft purples and deepening blues. It should be peaceful.
But it isn’t.
The tether thrums faintly in my chest, a ghost of what it felt like earlier; stronger when Raiden was closer, chaotic when I couldn’t hold the magic in. Now it just feels…hollow. Like a conversation cut short.
I don’t know what I was expecting from him. A look? A nod? A word? For him to see if I'm okay. Something.
I rub at my arms, more out of habit than cold. The path ahead winds down toward the edge of the practice fields, and beyond that, the darker stretch of trees where students aren’t supposed to go after dark.
I don’t turn back.
The ache behind my ribs simmers down into something quieter. I just keep walking. The distance feels good.
One foot in front of the other, like the ground might eventually tell me where I’m supposed to be.
SIXTEEN
