I reeled back in shock at his admission. Had the Black Claw figured out who I was? Did they know my secret identity? And if they did... why hadn’t they acted to reveal me yet?
He had to be bluffing. If the Black Claw knew who I was, they’d have told the Arcanea Alliance, and I’d be imprisoned by now. No other explanation made sense. I was their biggest threat and hindrance, especially since the King’s Contest ended. I’d been patrolling these streets every night afterward, causing trouble for the cult. If there was a way for them to get rid of me, there’d be no reason not to take it.
“I’m sick of your lies. This is my last warning.”
The cultist coughed up more blood. “What would your pretty little mate say if she knew what you were doing to me? She’d be terrified of you.”
Panic— and possession— streamed through my body. I forced my voice to be steady as I replied, “I have no mate.”
The cultist snorted. “Every shifter does. She’s out there. And when we get our hands on her—”
At the mention of the Black Cult harming Emma, I lost my temper. My illusion magic erupted from my hands, sending a purple shockwave through the room. The cultist pleaded for me to stop, but I ignored him, and more sparks flew from my fingers again as I cast the spell. The cultist cried out in suffering. This time, I gave the illusion of hot irons pressing into his skin, and though he begged, I didn’t pull back.
This was what I’d become now. A monster.
The sound of a heavy door scraping open caught my attention, and I whirled around. Loud footsteps sounded on the stairs, and my illusion ended. The man in the chair slung against his binds in relief.
My heart pounded against my rib cage. Who in their right mind was at the university at this hour, on winter break, and how had they discovered my hideout?
My breath quickened as my gaze landed upon none other than Lord Lucien. The old wolven wore a heavy cloak, and there were bags around his eyes, as if he was tired in a way words couldn’t express. His mouth thinned as he caught sight of the bloody cultist tied to the chair.
Of course he was here. Lord Lucien didn’t have family to visit over the holidays. He stayed at the university all year. It was another careless mistake of mine to think that the school would be empty and no one would hear the man screaming.
I’d been making too manymistakeslately.
My mentor’s gaze was cold as he stated, “Going a bit far, aren’t we, Phantom?”
There was a lump in my throat. I swallowed past it and said, “He deserves it.”
The illusion I’d cast on my voice for disguising purposes had blended me well. No recognition ran across Lucien’s face. He didn’t know who I was. Good. I couldn’t face him if he did. The shame would be too great. This wasn’t what he’d taught me.
“Are you one of the Seven Gods, to pass judgment like this?” Lucien barked cruelly. “Who are you to decide who deserves suffering?”
“He chose his fate when he decided to join the Black Claw.” My resolve was heavy. Guilt fought against my insides, but I turned it away. If this was the only way to protect my people, so be it.
“Don’t allow the hero to become the villain.” Lord Lucien reached for the sword hanging from his waist. “Let him go.”
I couldn’t let Lucien unleash my captive. Lucien drew his sword. I drew my own. He swung downward, and I dove out of the way. He parried away my returning blow, and our swords danced against the night as our two weapons crashed over and over. I attempted to find an advantage, but Lucien was too clever... I might have strength on my side, but he was fast, and hard to combat.
A bead of sweat broke out along Lucien’s brow. This fight couldn’t go on. Lucien knew my fighting style. He’d been the one who trained me. If I kept dueling with him like this, he’d figure it out.
I went to trip him up, so I could end the fight with a knockout to the head. But Lucien saw it coming. He ducked, then, before I knew what was happening, he shoved me to the floor and kicked me in the head. I saw stars.
As I struggled back onto my feet, the blurry image of Lucien cutting the ropes of the cultist came into view. The cultist staggered past me and up the stairs— Lucien stood stiffly by the puddle of blood on the stone.
“What did you do?” I roared in fury. All I saw was red. The unbound anger of a wolf coursed through my veins. Lucien wasevilfor setting a filthy cultist free.
“Whatever you are, Phantom, this is notwhoyou are. I won’t have his blood be on your hands,” Lucien boomed. “No matter what you were planning, you would’ve never forgiven yourself.”
An angry noise erupted from my chest. I left Lucien, fool that he was, and darted up the stairs after the cultist.
Lucien didn’t follow.
The cultist had gotten a head start, but he’d left a blood trail on the carpet. I dashed through the dark halls of Arcanea University, using my wolven scent to track the cultist’s escape route.
I caught up to him somewhere near the cafeteria. He was limping, but still, he was moving fast. He burst out of the palace and against the Malovian night, into the gardens. I steeled my will, pushed myself to go faster, and followed him into the blustery storm.
The blizzard whipped hard and cold past my mask as I gave chase. The snowfall from earlier had turned into a full-on blizzard. Piles of snow, three feet high, coated the pathways on school grounds. The cultist looked behind him and gave a screech as he saw me catching up, increasing his pace to get away.
