Page 75 of The Bound Blood
“That’s enough,” I hiss.
The vision snaps. The clearing dims. The voice remains, whisper-thin.
Run, little Shadow Weaver.
Or she will be next.
Magic erupts in my veins, burning white-hot, demanding release.
Lindsay—fragile, stubborn, powerful Lindsay—caught in the crosshairs of something ancient enough to speak in riddles and old enough to have forgotten fear. I steady my breathing, though every instinct I possess screams at me to tear through the Veil itself if I have to.
“I’m not running,” I say into the shadows. “And I’m not letting you touch her.”
The forest falls silent. But the Veil does not. A final pulse rolls through the clearing—slow, deliberate, like a creature stretching after centuries of sleep.
I turn back toward the academy, magic crackling under my skin and my own shadows growing at my feet. If the Veil thinks it can lay claim to her, then it has forgotten exactly what I am. And the lengths I will go to keep her breathing.
TWENTY-NINE
LINDSAY
The next morning,the Great Hall feels wrong the moment I step inside.
Students pack every bench, shoulder-to-shoulder, voices low and frantic. The air hums with magic—unsettled, jittery, like everyone’s magic is spiking at once. Even the chandeliers hanging high above us flicker uneasily, throwing long shadows across the tables.
Nolan sticks close beside me, brushing against me every time someone jostles too near. Raiden stands on my other side, posture rigid, jaw tight. He’s in full guardian mode—eyes scanning and assessing every person in the area.
Tamsin plops down on the bench across from us, elbows braced on the table like she’s settling in to watch a drama unfold.
“Well,” she mutters, popping a grape into her mouth, “this is either going to be extremely informative or extremely traumatizing. I give it… ninety seconds before someone cries.”
No one knows why Headmaster Veyne called an emergency assembly at dawn.
But everyone feels it. Something’s wrong.
Tamsin nudges me with her foot under the table. “Don’t worry. If things go bad, I’ll scream loudly enough to distract everyone while you three escape.”
“Escape?” I blink at her. “That…isn’t comforting.”
“Wasn’t meant to be,” she says cheerfully. “It’s calledrealism, sweetheart, and you’ve been the center of the drama lately.”
The double doors slam shut behind the last of the stragglers. A hush rolls through the room as Headmaster Veyne steps onto the raised platform at the front.
A girl, slightly older looking than me, follows to his left, a long braid hanging down her back and black, sleek horns curling up from her hairline. Her wings are folded behind her. She’s beautiful, honestly, even with the serious expression on her face that matches the headmaster’s.
And Kael…Kael is standing just to his right. I knew he worked for the headmaster every once in a while. Is this why I haven’t seen him since yesterday? I mean, sure, he said he’d be back, but it’s Kael we’re talking about here, he is the epitome of cryptic and distant.
His expression is carved from stone, unreadable, shadows clinging to him as though they know a secret the rest of us don’t. His gaze flickers to me for the briefest moment—a flash of concern, relief, and something else I can’t read.
Then he looks away, jaw tight.
Headmaster Veyne clears his throat.
“Students,” he says, voice resonant and steady. “I regret that this morning brings grave news.”
My stomach drops.
Around us, whispers ripple. Nolan’s hand finds mine under the table. Raiden leans forward, pupils narrowing.
