Page 139 of The Bound Blood
I stop without meaning to.
Auron pauses, too, turning toward me. “You feel it.”
It’s not a question.
“Yeah,” I admit. “It’s just—” I trail off, glancing around. Isn’t this hall the same one I was lost in when Kael found me? The one he warned me was dangerous? My heart kicks up behind my ribcage.
“I don’t remember this hallway,” I add carefully.
Auron’s expression doesn’t change. “There are a lot of passages in the academy most students never see.”
“That’s comforting,” I mutter.
Auron’s mouth twitches, like he almost smiles, but he doesn’t comment. He turns and keeps walking, clearly expecting me to follow.
I hesitate.
Just long enough to notice the details I didn’t want to connect before.
The stone here is too clean. Too intentional. Like it’s been maintained for a purpose that doesn’t involve foot traffic. The wards hum differently too—not weaker, but layered. Old over new. Reinforced in places that don’t make sense unless you know what you’re protecting… or containing.
The artifact shifts in my pocket. Not a pulse. A tug.
My fingers curl reflexively over it as I take another step forward, unease sliding into something else.
“This isn’t just a quiet hallway,” I say. “Is it?”
Auron slows, turning his head slightly, though he doesn’t fully face me. “No,” he says easily. “But it’s still inside the academy.”
“That’s not a real answer.”
He stops then, finally turning to look at me. His expression is calm, composed—almost patient. As though I’ve reached the part of the conversation he was expecting.
“You asked for space,” he says. “Somewhere you could think without everyone else interfering.”
“That isn’t what I asked for. I didn’t ask to be led somewhere Kael explicitly told me not to go,” I counter.
Auron’s gaze narrows. “Kael warned you because he doesn’t trust what he can’t control.”
That hits hard. Not because it’s true. But because it’salmosttrue.
“And you do?” I ask.
“I trust outcomes,” he replies. “Especially inevitable ones.”
Something in my chest goes tight.
Before I can respond, he steps aside and gestures toward a doorway I hadn’t noticed before—set into the stone as if it’s always been there, waiting to be acknowledged.
“After you,” he says.
Every instinct in me screamsdon’t.
But backing away now would mean admitting I let him lead me here without realizing it. So I lift my chin and step forward.
The room beyond is circular, its walls etched with sigils I start to recognize too late. They are the same ones that were used to contain me before. The air hums thick and charged, pressing against my skin. And standing at the center of the room—my stomach drops—Auron’s father.
He turns as I enter, eyes sharp and knowing, as if he’s been waiting for me specifically. There is zero surprise written on his face. He looks more expectant.
