Page 80 of The Bound Blood
And just like that—the game begins.
Veyne’s officesmells like old books, iron-rich ink, and desperation.
Perfect.
The headmaster gestures the three students inside—Lindsay, the warlock boy, and the wounded shifter. Kael is already here, pressed into a corner, doing his best impression of a shadow pretending to be obedient.
I take the chair opposite Veyne’s desk, lounging comfortably. Every other male in the room stands like they’re ready for battle.
I suppose they are.
The girl speaks first.
“Guess it’s good they couldn’t bind my magic, huh?”
The air stills. My nostrils flare, magic coiling low in my spine like a creature preparing to strike.
The Council attempted to bind her? Her? A girl with Veil resonance dripping from her skin like stardust? A girl with three tethers—one to a Reaver prince, one to a warlock with a rare attunement, one to a severed kitsune heritage?
Idiocy. Spectacular, dangerous idiocy.
I let a slow smile pull at my mouth—sharp at the edges. “Well,” I murmur, “that explains the instability.”
Veyne flinches. He should. Does he even know what he has attending his school? I wasn’t sure at first…but now, this close to the girl, she’s—special. I would be willing to bet she can communicate with the monsters of the Veil. Possibly controlthem if given enough time to learn the skill. But she very well may die instead with the poor training they have obviously given her so far.
I shift my focus to the boy standing next to her. The warlock—is earnest, nervous, and too bright for a place like this. And easy.
“Tell me,” I say softly, turning toward him, “what is your name, beam of sunshine?”
His breath catches. “N-Nolan.”
Adorable.
I let my voice warm, just enough. “A warlock with Veil sensitivity is a rarity. A treasure, really.”
He pushes up his glasses so fast they nearly embed in his nose. His cheeks flare pink, his ears not far behind.
Then my gaze drifts—slow, deliberate—to the shifter. His aura crackles like scorched cedar. But beneath it, I smell something else.
Foxfire. Faded. Bleeding out of him from the severed lineage, but healing all the same.
Fascinating.
“Raiden Tsukino, Kitsune clan,” I murmur. He might not be a prince, but if he weren’t cut from the clan he would be leading it soon.
He stiffens. “Not anymore.”
“Mm. So you keep telling yourself.” I tilt my head. “Cut roots still remember the tree. And some even grow new roots.”
Raiden bristles. His reaction is delicious. The girl’s eyes flick to him, worry creasing her brow.
I note that.
I note everything.
And then there’s Kael still trying to blend in with the corner. He hasn’t said a word. But his shadows are restless. Whispering.
A prince of darkness tethered to a Veil-touched mortal girl…Oh, this story will be exquisite.
