Shadows of Change (Arcanum Academy #1)

24. Kaia

Another week into our lessons, and I still can't decide if Darian is the best or worst thing to happen to my training.

"You're thinking too hard again," he says, his voice soft but sure. We're in one of the smaller practice rooms, where Professor Thorne has been having us work on precision control. "Shadow magic isn't about perfect form—it's about instinct."

My brow furrows, trying to make sense of Darian's words. They clash with everything Professor Thorne has drilled into us since I got here. The shadows around us pulse and flicker, responding to my conflicted emotions.

"But Professor Thorne always says there's no room for improvisation in Shadow manipulation," I argue, my voice barely above a whisper. The dim light of the practice room casts Darian's face in stark relief, his high cheekbones and sharp jawline emphasized by the interplay of light and shadow.

Darian's lips curl into a knowing smirk. "Ah, but that's where the true mastery lies, Kaia. Thorne teaches the basics, the rigid structure. But once you understand the rules..." He pauses, lifting his hand. The shadows in the room coalesce around his fingers, dancing and swirling in mesmerizing show that I can’t look away from.

My shadows coil restlessly at my feet, and Mouse watches from his perch on a nearby shelf, his violet eyes narrowed with clear disapproval. I try to ignore both of them.

Darian steps closer, his movements smooth and deliberate. Unlike Malrik's predatory grace or Finn's chaotic energy, Darian moves like someone who's never questioned his right to occupy space. He adjusts my stance with light touches: a nudge to my elbow, a hand settling on my shoulder. Each contact sends a jolt through me, and my shadows twitch in response.

“Let’s try again,” he says with more calm than he could possibly feel.

"Easy for you to say," I mutter, trying to focus on the task and not the way his proximity makes my pulse race. "Your magic actually behaves."

He chuckles, the sound low and warm. "Who says behaving is the goal?"

Before I can respond, he moves behind me, close enough that his chest brushes my back. I stiffen automatically, my shadows coiling tighter.

"Relax," he murmurs, his hands settling on my arms. "You're holding too much tension. Your shadows feel that—they'll reflect it back at you."

It's impossible to relax with him this close, but I try anyway, letting my shoulders drop. His breath stirs the hair at my neck, and my shadows ripple uneasily.

"Better," he says, his voice softening. His hands trail down my arms, barely skimming the surface. "Now, stop trying to control them. Shadows don't like being forced—they want to move with you, not for you. Let them show you what they want."

I close my eyes and take a slow breath. For once, I let go of the tight grip I've been keeping on my power. To my surprise, my shadows respond, pulling together into the barrier I've been struggling to form all morning. It's simple but steady.

"See?" Darian says, his hands sliding back to my shoulders. "You're stronger than you think."

Mouse growls softly from his perch, but the sound is lost under Darian's next words.

"You're too focused on getting it perfect," he murmurs against my ear. "Perfection isn't the goal. Feeling is."

My shadows pull away from him sharply, but I pay them no mind, too caught up in the moment. His hands skim down my arms again, lingering at my wrists.

"Let's try it again," he says, pressing closer. "This time, don't overthink. Trust yourself."

The barrier begins to take shape, but every brush of his fingers sends another shiver through me. My shadows writhe uneasily, trying to put space between us.

"Good," he whispers. His thumbs brush the insides of my wrists. "You're getting it."

"Darian—" My voice comes out breathless, uncertain.

"Hmm?" His hum vibrates against me, his lips grazing my neck, and the barrier collapses completely.

"Touching display."

Malrik's voice cuts through the room like winter wind. My shadows scatter as I spin toward the door, where he leans against the frame with deceptive casualness. His silver eyes are sharp, taking in every detail of the scene.

"We have the room reserved," Darian says pleasantly, though something darker edges his tone. "For training."

"Is that what you're calling it?" Malrik steps forward with liquid grace, power rolling off him in waves. "Fascinating technique."

Heat floods my face. "It's not—we weren't—"

"Working on control," Darian finishes smoothly, his hand returning to the small of my back like a brand. "Something you might consider studying yourself, Duskbane."

Malrik's eyes narrow dangerously, and the shadows in the corners of the room seem to deepen.

Before either can escalate, Finn bursts in with his usual chaotic energy, though his smile feels forced.

"Kaia! There you are! I've been looking everywhere—" He stops short, his grin faltering as he reads the room. "Oh. Sorry. Didn't realize you were... busy."

"We're not," I say quickly, stepping away from Darian. My shadows dart toward Finn like they're seeking refuge, brushing his boots before curling back around my feet.

"Actually," Darian catches my wrist, his grip light but insistent, "we should run through that one more time. Professor Thorne wants to see improvement by tomorrow's class."

He's not wrong—Thorne has been watching me like a hawk lately, his dark eyes always weighing and measuring. But something in Malrik and Finn's matched stares makes my skin crawl.

"I can help with that," Malrik says, his voice deceptively soft. "Since you seem so concerned with her progress."

Darian's smile doesn't waver, but tension radiates from him. "That's kind of you. But Professor Thorne assigned me as her partner for a reason."

"Did he?" Finn sprawls into a nearby chair with calculated carelessness. "And what reason would that be?"

The air thickens with power as Mouse bristles on his shelf, violet eyes fixed on Darian.

"I should go," I snap, yanking my wrist free. "It's almost dinner anyway."

"I'll walk you," three voices say at once.

The silence that follows makes my chest tight, like the walls are closing in. My shadows swirl frantically, pulling toward both Finn and Malrik while shrinking from Darian.

"I'm capable of walking myself," I say, grabbing my bag. Mouse leaps down to my side as I head for the door. "Thanks for the help, Darian. I'll... I'll see you tomorrow."

I escape before anyone can argue, but not before catching Darian's amused murmur and Malrik's answering growl.

In the corridor, I press against the cool stone wall and exhale slowly. My heart races, though I can't tell if it's from the tension or from Darian's lingering touch. Mouse bumps against my leg while my shadows coil close, as if trying to shield me from my own choices.

"I'm fine," I tell them, unconvincing even to myself. "Everything's fine."

Mouse's unimpressed stare says otherwise.

I push off the wall and head for the dining hall, but the weight of the moment follows me: Darian's possessive touch, Malrik's controlled fury, Finn's faltering smile. Something's shifting between all of us. I’m just not sure what it is yet.