The lycan table is staring me down. Kai is sitting at the center, looking completely unfazed, and Heather is draped across his leg, a long nail tracing down his torso. Her smile is as sharp as ever, pleased with herself. Brackwell doesn’t react to the noise, doesn’t react to her. But when our eyes meet, something tightens in my chest. Shame, anger, probably both. Kai’s face is unreadable, but I see it. In the way he’s relaxed in his chair, enjoying this.
Fucking asshole.
I’m so happy I didn’t kiss his stupid, handsome face. Then Wyll appears out of nowhere; he must have read it all on me. I’ve always been the type to wear her heart on her sleeve. Slinging an arm around my shoulders.
“You’ve eaten yet?” he asks, his tone light.
“I’m good,” I reply flatly. “Lost my appetite.”
Across the room, Kai’s jaw twitches, just enough to confirm he heard me. Rolling my eyes, I turn my back, not giving him the satisfaction of a second glance.
“Alright,” Wyll says, adjusting his pace to mine, “where are we going?”
“The library.” My voice is steady now, sharper.
I’m done playing helpless in a place crawling with predators just waiting to take a bite out of me. I am nobody’s prey.
The library is seriously impressive,with its gothic archways. Its soaring ceilings, endless shelves and stained-glass windows that cast a soft pink glow, a permanent sunset. It’s one of those placesthat makes you feel small, but in the best way. Lost somewhere between dust and art. Tapestries line the walls; elegant elves in forest glades. Another shows a golden plain full of corn, centaurs and gryphons woven into the scenery.
I realize each one represents a kingdom: Elveron, Arvendal. To the right, Saltmere is depicted with a grand ship cutting through ocean waves, flanked by armoured Elgarians. And then there's Kallahan. Snow-covered mountains, a fierce valkyrie astride a pegasus, and a pack of lycans at her heels—fearless.
Wyll’s leading me through the maze, explaining the search system like he’s done this a million times. Some students shoot him smiles or waves, but he barely bats an eye at them. We both spot Caleb at the back table with piles of books.
“First time seeing you here,” he says, eyeing the cowboy as if he’s a rare specimen.
“Just passing through,” Wyll shrugs, flipping a chair around to straddle it. “Lyna needed a little help.”
“Lyna?” Hearing that nickname from Wyll, it hits differently. When Aaron and Van started calling me that, it was more like a group thing than an out-of-nowhere established identity. But that familiar pull, like when Kai called meVi,is there in the air, sweet on my tongue. That feeling that screams at the back of my head, but I shake it off and get to the point.
"Caleb, where can I find info on the Bloodmoon War?"
"Already an assignment, huh?" His warm gaze assesses me, and I don't dare speak. Lying in a place where magic is law? No, thank you. So instead of opening my mouth, I just nod.
"Follow me."
We dive into stacks of dusty books, flipping through pages and scribbling notes. Turns out, Netherworld attacked five days before Grianstad Eve. Everyone was too caught up in the festivities, eager to finally enjoy the holidays, to notice. And then it was too late, cities across Elgar were massacred. Kallahansuffered the most destruction, but every Elgarian lost something that day.
"The reason my mom and I moved here," Caleb says. I learn that his father, the General of Elveron’s army, died on the battlefield. Isolde swore to honour his memory, so she joined the Legion, the strongest army in Elgar, taking her son away from all he ever knew. Growing up in Elveron, Caleb always had his nose to a book, that’s why the library was the first place that didn’t feel foreign to him, and the rest is history.
The only reason we’re not all under Nekros’s thumb is because of the Queen’s ultimate sacrifice. She gave her essence back to Kvirr, sealing all the gates in Elgar and giving the people a chance to survive. And that’s what tipped the balance, her sacrifice.
I can’t help but wonder... Did my mom know her?
Probably. Ruby said that Theo only worked with the ones leading the battles.
Leaning back, I ask, “So why are the valkyries getting blamed if they’re the ones who saved us?”
Caleb shrugs. “Conspiracy theorists say only valkyries can open portals without being part of that specific world.”
Wyll snorts. “Please. There are plenty of other ways to open portals, and everyone knows it.”
“Like?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Some of my ancestors were human, witches. So I can open Elgar and Mundane World’s portals,” Wyll says, arms crossed, shooting me a sideways glance from under his cowboy hat, not caring about etiquette. I’m surprised nobody told him to remove it.
“And what about the rest?”
“They get blood to unlock portals. Buying it, borrowing it. It’s pretty common. Or sacrifices for Netherworld’s devils,” he adds, like it’s no big deal.
