Raiden snorts in agreement.
The tension drains out of me in a rush, leaving something shaky in its wake. I sink back onto the bed, exhaling.
“Okay, so the next step is figuring out who it is talking about,” I say and blow out my cheeks.Yeah, that doesn’t sound hard at all. I rub my palms over my face, then let them drop.
“Which should be easy,” I add dryly. “Just narrow down the list of people bound by blood oaths, forbidden from loving anyone, and standing one bad decision away from blowing up my life.”
Raiden lets out a quiet huff. “Piece of cake.”
Nolan shifts his weight, thoughtful rather than panicked, which somehow makes it worse. “It might not be that difficult,” he says. “Bindings like that leave patterns. Behavioral ones. Magical ones.”
I glance at him. “Meaning?”
“Meaning whoever this is,” he continues, “will avoid certain situations. Certain emotions. They’ll hesitate when others don’t. Or overcompensate.” He winces slightly. “They’ll look…like they are in perfect control.”
My stomach tightens. Something about his words makes me think of Auron. Could it be him?
Kael’s shadows stir faintly, curling in on themselves. “And when that control starts to slip,” he adds, “we’ll notice.”
I swallow and nod. “So we pay attention.”
FORTY-TWO
KAEL
It’s beenthree nights since the Solstice Rites, and the academy has settled into a tense approximation of normal. Classes resumed. Patrols rotated, giving a few of us time off. Students have seemed to stop whispering every time Lindsay walks past.
The Veil, however, hasn’t forgotten. It thrums with the same magic Lindsay has inside of her. And I know that the ritual isn’t going to hold back whatever wants her for long.
Tonight, I volunteered for patrol for one reason only…the addition to the prophecy has kept me up at night, and I need to find out exactly what he knows.
Dorian keeps pace beside me along the outer perimeter as if he’s done this a thousand times before. His boots don’t crunch the frost as he walks. His breath doesn’t fog the air. Winter bends around him the way shadows bend to me.
“You’re staring,” he says lightly, not looking over.
“I’m not,” I reply.
He smiles. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself.”
We move in silence for a few more steps. The night presses close, the stars bright above the trees. The wards shimmer faintly at the edge of my vision. But he’s right, I am watching him.
Dorian slows, then stops, gloved hand brushing the nearest wardstone. “You felt it too, didn’t you?” he asks. “The way the magic…rearranged itself and settled differently after the ritual.”
I don’t answer. I might trust him to keep Lindsay safe, but that’s the only thing I trust when it comes to him. Especially now, and I’ve been rethinking the idea that he would keep her safe. A test can mean many things.
He hums. “I’ll take that as yes.”
“You didn’t come here to help.” I face him, arms crossing loosely over my chest. “Don’t pretend you did.”
“Oh, I absolutely came to help,” he says. “Just not in the way you or your council hoped.”
My shadows stir, irritated. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Enjoying?” He considers the word, rolling it over his tongue as if he can taste it. “No. But I do appreciate clarity in things. And your girl”—his gaze flicks briefly toward the academy lights as if he can see her across the distance—“has a habit of creating it.”
Your girl. The way he says it makes me feel exposed. My jaw tightens. “Watch how you refer to her.”
“You don’t like people knowing she means something to you?” Dorian’s smile turns almost predatory. “You should do more to hide it then, because that magic connecting you is a beacon for anyone that wants to get to her.”
