29. Malrik
The library is silent except for Finn’s restless pacing. He hasn’t cracked a single joke since Kaia left—a sure sign of how serious things have become.
"We should have stopped her," Torric growls, his fingers tapping an agitated rhythm against the table.
"How?" Aspen asks, calm and deliberate as always. "She’s right—we can’t make decisions for her."
"We can when she’s walking into a trap," Torric snaps, the heat in his voice sharp enough to burn.
I stay silent, watching Finn wear a path into the carpet. There’s something he isn’t saying—something important. And now, he can’t keep it to himself any longer.
"Finn," I say quietly. "Tell them."
He freezes mid-step, running a hand through his already messy hair. "Tell them what?"
"About the shadows." I hold his gaze, steady and unyielding. "About what we’ve seen."
The twins exchange confused glances. Aspen is the first to break the silence. "What about the shadows?"
Finn laughs sharply, but it lacks his usual humor. “They’ve been warning us about Darian from the start. And yeah, I should’ve said something. But it’s not like you’d have listened.” He takes a ragged breath, “That Bob practically has an aneurysm every time he’s near? That they physically push Kaia away from him?"
"Bob?" Torric asks, his golden brows knitting together.
"The big one," Finn and I say in unison.
"You can see them?" Aspen’s eyes widen in surprise. "Both of you?"
"Yes," I admit. "For different reasons. But that’s not what matters. What matters is that her shadows know something’s wrong. They’ve known all along."
"And you didn’t think to tell us earlier?" Torric stands, heat rolling off him in waves.
"Would you have believed us?" I reply coolly.
Before he can answer, the library doors burst open. Kaia stumbles in, pale and shaken, her shadows more wild and erratic than I’ve ever seen them. Bob writhes like a storm cloud ready to burst, his edges jagged and flickering. Mouse’s fur bristles, his low growl vibrating through the air.
The argument dies instantly.
"Kaia," Aspen says, desperate worry in his voice.
The moment Kaia stumbles, Torric is there, catching her before she hits the ground. His usual bravado vanishes, replaced by genuine concern as he scoops her into his arms. Her head lolls against his chest, and my stomach twists at how small and vulnerable she looks.
"We need to get her to her room," I say, already moving towards the door. The others follow without question, our earlier disagreements forgotten in the face of this new crisis.
As we hurry through the corridors, I can't help but notice how Kaia's shadows cling to her, more agitated than I've ever seen them. Bob, usually so playful, now writhes like a mass of angry snakes. Mouse, typically aloof, presses close to Torric's legs, his violet eyes wide with fear.
We reach Kaia's room, and Aspen rushes ahead to open the door. Torric lays her gently on the bed, his hands lingering for a moment as if reluctant to let go. Finn paces at the foot of the bed, his usual energy turned frantic and sharp.
"This isn't right," he mutters, running a hand through his hair. "This isn't normal training."
"No," I agree, moving closer to examine Kaia. "It's not."
That's when I see it. A flicker of darkness blooms under her skin, branching like jagged lightning through fragile glass. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it fades.
"Did you see that?" I ask, my voice tighter than I'd like.
The others crowd around, and we watch in horrified fascination as the process repeats. Black veins spider across Kaia's skin, reaching towards her heart before retreating again.
"What is that?" Aspen whispers, his usual calm shattered.
"Nothing good," Torric growls, heat radiating from his clenched fists like a simmering blaze, while Aspen’s calm facade cracks, his eyes betraying a flicker of panic.
Finn leans in, his face uncharacteristically serious. "It's like... it's fighting something. Look."
He's right. Each time the darkness spreads, Kaia's shadows lash out in desperate waves, clawing at the encroaching darkness as though fighting for their own survival. But with each cycle, the darkness reaches a little further, lingers a little longer.
"We need to do something," Aspen says, looking to me with desperate eyes. "Can you... I don't know, use your magic to help?"
I shake my head, frustration burning in my chest. "My magic doesn't work that way. I can see shadows, influence them, but this..." I gesture helplessly at Kaia's prone form. "This is beyond me. This isn’t shadow."
"Then what do we do?" Torric demands, his voice rising with each word. "We can't just stand here and watch!"
"We need to find out what Darian and Thorne did," I say, forcing my eyes away from her to meet the other’s gaze.
Torric and Aspen nod nearly in unison, they’re rune marks flaring with power. And Finn looks angrier than I’ve ever seen him. They won’t get away with this,” Finn says, his voice low and lethal, the sharp edge of his anger slicing through the room. The heat of it lingers, palpable, alive.
I can’t help but watch him—really watch him. The way his energy coils, barely restrained, how his green eyes burn with a fierce determination that draws shadows toward him like moths to flame. Something about it is unsettling. Or maybe it’s the way it stirs something in me, something I’m not ready to think about.
My shadows twist, echoing the chaos in my chest, but Finn doesn’t notice. His focus is all Kaia. Maybe that’s what keeps me from stepping closer. Maybe that’s why I stay silent.