Finn
I’m perfectly balanced on the edge of the academy’s western tower—which, let’s be honest, is basically the most comfortable seat on campus. Alenya keeps telling me it’s “completely inappropriate behavior for a mage,” but really, what does she know about gargoyle seating ergonomics? If the architects didn’t want people sitting here, they wouldn’t have made them so inviting.
Besides, where else would I get a view like this?
My gaze sweeps over the forest-lined road winding up to the academy, and I spot it: Thorne’s obnoxiously fancy carriage, rolling up like it owns the place. Normally, I’d find a snack or a nap more appealing than watching one of his dramatic recruit parades, but this time, something’s… different.
Shadows.
Not just boring, stick-to-your-heels shadows, either. Not even your typical magical ones. These things move like they’ve got a pulse, darting and weaving behind the carriage like hyper puppies who can’t decide where they’re supposed to be.
I sit up straighter, my curiosity hooked.
“Interesting,” I murmur, leaning forward. “What are you bringing me today, Thorne?”
The carriage stops at the front entrance directly below where my gargoyle friend and I are sitting. The door swings open, and I see her.
Oh.
My balance shifts dangerously as my breath catches. I barely manage to stop myself from tumbling off my stone buddy entirely.
She steps out of the carriage like she owns it—lean muscle, all fluid motion and sharp edges. Her skin’s so pale it catches the morning light which doesn’t really exist, but she’s practically glowing, and her hair looks like it’s permanently wind-swept, in a way that should be impossible after a carriage ride. But it’s her eyes that lock me in place.
Violet. Deep, sharp, and way too guarded for someone her age. There’s something wild behind them, too—a spark, like a hidden fire she’s carefully controlling.
And then I realize the shadows are hers.
Oh, hell.
They’re alive in a way I’ve never seen before, curling and twisting around her legs with minds of their own. One of them, a bigger one that looks like it runs the show, is actively herding the smaller ones away from Thorne’s boots.
A born leader, that one.
I can’t help the grin tugging at my face.
“Look at you, shadow mom,” I murmur, watching as her chaotic shadows move around her. They make her look like she’s at the center of a wild, beautiful dance only she knows the steps to. My heart does this stupid little flip thing, and I roll my eyes at myself.
This is not fair.
I’m about to dismiss it as no big deal—just another recruit (yeah right)—but then a sleek black panther hops out of the carriage after her. Not a real panther, obviously. Its body shifts like liquid smoke, violet eyes glowing as it scans the grounds. When it looks up at me, I swear it rolls its eyes.
“What’s your problem?” I mutter.
The panther ignores me.
Rude.
Now, I should probably go down there and introduce myself like a normal person. You know, on the ground, through the door, like a perfectly respectable mage.
But where’s the fun in that?
Instead, I let myself fall forward off the tower.
Halfway down, her shadows surge up like a tidal wave, and for a second, I think she’s going to obliterate me.
“Whoa, whoa, easy there,” I call, catching myself on a ripple of chaos magic before I hit the ground. I float the last few feet, landing lightly in front of her.
Show-off? Me?
