Page 82 of The Bound Blood
Her jaw tightens. “The creatures stirring now aren’t like the lesser shades. They’re older. More cunning.” A beat. “You weren’t trained to face things like this.”
Better.
“Trained?” I echo lightly. “Nyssa, I was forged for this.”
Her magic trembles—not visible to mortal eyes, but clear to mine. “You know what the old creatures can do. How they hunt. How they choose targets.”
“Yes,” I say simply.
“And you still volunteered for patrol?” she presses, voice thin with frustration. “Despite knowing what’s waking?”
“Especially because of that.”
She steps closer, lowering her voice. “Dorian, these aren’t the drifting shades or errant remnants. These are the ones thatattack through resonance. The ones that follow tethers. They go for the strongest magical signatures first.”
I smile—slow, amused. “Then the students couldn’t ask for a better lure.”
Her expression crumples into irritated concern. “You’re reckless.”
“And you’re worried,” I counter softly, touching her arm.
A flicker of memory crosses her face—shared training sessions, sparring halls, Silver Court hunts—but before she can answer, the office door opens.
Raiden, Nolan, and the veil-marked girl step out.
Nyssa stiffens when she sees them. I release her arm—gentle, practiced—and incline my head in a way that tells herlater. Not now.
She reads it instantly.
I step toward the trio, falling into stride beside the girl before either Raiden or Nolan can maneuver to block me.
Raiden notices first. He subtly shifts his body attempting to come between us, which would be adorable if it weren’t so transparent. Nolan flushes and pushes up his glasses for the third time in less than five minutes. Poor boy. He’s going to break the bridge of his nose by the end of the day.
And she—she glances up at me with wide eyes, sharp and suspicious, magic humming under her skin like a violin string plucked too hard.
We walk several steps in silence before I turn my head toward her, letting my voice drop into something smooth and quiet. “You never told me your name.”
The girl blinks, caught off guard.
“You…” she says slowly, “never asked.”
I smile—soft and deliberate, a single spark meant to test the air between us.
“I am asking now.”
Raiden’s jaw flexes. Nolan makes a tiny squeaking sound. And she inhales, a small, startled breath she probably didn’t mean for me to hear.
Oh, delightful.
I wait—because I want to hear her say it. I want to hear the name tied to the threads I can see wrapped around her.
Because names are not power.
But they reveal much.
And hers is going to be important, I can feel it in my bones.
I wait.
