Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
RAIDEN
I sit with my back against the far wall of Lindsay’s chamber, the rune line barely a whisper now.
The glow of the protection runes has faded to a faint shimmer beneath our feet, and Lindsay has long since stopped pretending she isn’t exhausted.
She sits cross-legged on the floor, tracing idle patterns along the lines of one of Marris’s sigils, her brow furrowed in quiet concentration.
I haven’t left since this morning—not even to eat.
I won’t.
Not until she’s safe.
The sound of boots outside the chamber echoes down the hall. It sounds as though a whole army is approaching. I stand, putting myself in front of her.
“Raiden, what—” she says, breaking off as the door swings open. I hear her move behind me, but I keep my focus in front of me.
The chamber seems to hold its breath as Councilor Vemir enters, his long silver robes brushing the floor like mist. Behind him, two veil guards step inside, both ranked enforcers, cold-eyed and ready, normally used for actual criminals and not academy students. And then—he appears.
My father.
Commander Tsukino of the Kitsune tribe.
He doesn’t look at me at first. Just surveys the room, hands clasped behind his back. The weapons strapped to his belt aren’t ceremonial.
He’s here to make sure this happens.
“Raiden,” he says coolly, as if he hasn’t shown up to destroy the only thing I’ve ever wanted to protect. “Step aside.”
“No.” My voice doesn’t shake.
Councilor Vemir tsks softly, adjusting a thin crystal rod in his hand. Something pulses at the tip, and it pulls at the Veil-binding between Lindsay and myself. “The Council has decreed. Lindsay Blake is to be bound for the safety of the Academy.”
“She hasn’t done anything wrong,” I snap. “You’re using fear as an excuse to do this.”
The Councilor doesn’t flinch. “She is a danger to everyone around her. That’s not opinion, that’s observable fact. Your attachment compromises your judgment.”
“I’m not compromised,” I grit out. “I was there. I fought beside her. She saved this Academy.”
My father finally looks at me. There’s something almost like regret in his expression. Almost.
“You’ve made your position clear,” he says, low and even. “But it is not your choice to make. The Council has voted.
Two more guards enter the chamber.
Lindsay moves slowly next to me, chin high despite the tremor in her limbs. She doesn’t beg or ask them to stop.
She just looks at me, fear shining inside her eyes. And that’s what breaks me.
I lunge forward when the guards advance, shifting mid-step.
The air ripples as my body twists and elongates into half-beast form, claws bared, fangs flashing, my tails whipping angrily behind me.
I don't think—I react. Because she is mine to protect.
Not because of the Veilbond. Not because some ancient rule says I have to.
Because I choose her.
“Stand down,” my father commands.
I growl, crouching lower, shifting fully, my clothing ripping and falling away with the change. Stay back, I send to Lindsay as I nudge her behind me.
She doesn't move—but she hears me. I feel it.
The guards lift suppression cuffs. My lips curl back over my fangs. Electricity builds beneath my skin—wild, unstable, and desperate. They're not just here to escort her.
They're here to stop me from stopping them.
My father steps forward, his expression unreadable. “Raiden Tsukino,” he says, using every inch of my name like a reprimand. Even in full beast form, I hear him. “This is your last warning. Submission, or consequences.”
I snap at the nearest guard, claws scraping stone as I surge forward—and my father moves.
He just moves—in that fluid, terrifying way only he can, and his hand clamps around the base of my neck. Electric reversal bands burn across my spine, forcing my tails to jolt violently out of rhythm.
My body locks up—magic sputtering, my bones trembling as they’re forced back into human shape. Agonizingly slow. Every inch of the reversal feels like I’m being peeled out of my own skin.
He kneels beside me as I collapse to one knee, barely clothed, drenched in sweat.
“Restraint is not weakness,” he says, low. “It’s survival.”
My voice comes out raw, feral. “Survival at the cost of her?”
“The choice was never yours to make.”
Behind him—Lindsay is surrounded now. Three guards. Councilor Vemir murmuring something over a binding scroll. The runes around her feet are shifting—adjusting, reweaving, forming a transport sigil.
My heart lurches.
They’re taking her.
Not binding here—they’re taking her to the Council Hall.
She meets my eyes across the room—guards holding her arms but not hurting her. She isn’t fighting. I want her to fight.
The bond between us pulses, growing stronger between us.
I want to scream her name. I want to beg her not to go. I want to promise I'll tear down every tower and Council hall and veil-lined chamber just to bring her back.
But I can’t move.
I can only watch.
“Raiden,” she whispers, too soft for anyone but me to hear—and maybe my father, whose eyes narrow slightly.
They begin the teleport sigil. The air hums with power.
And I do the only thing I can do. I push everything—every ounce of my magic, my fear, my vow—to her through the tether.
Not words or a useless plea. Just one promise.
I’m coming.
She flinches—just barely—but I know she heard it.
The light flares. She disappears.
The room exhales.
And for the first time since this began—I break. Because I chose her. And now I have to fight for her.
The second I’m left alone, I’m on my feet. I fly out of the room, not caring that my clothing is ripped and torn and barely hanging onto me. I just need to get to her before they try to bind her magic.
The chanting reaches me before I’m even inside the main hall.
It grows louder with every step, vibrating through the stone floors, threading magic into the air thick enough to choke on. The words are clear now, rising like a war cry: “Let her speak. Let her speak.”
I'd bet anything this—this—is what made the Council reckless.
I skid to a stop at the entrance.
The room is chaos.
Students line the stairs, spill across the floors, press in along the walls—bodies packed shoulder to shoulder. Some are standing. Most are sitting. All of them are buzzing. Magic sparks against my skin, electric and volatile, feeding off itself in waves. It’s too much and not enough.
“Raiden!”
Nolan’s voice cuts through the roar like an arrow, snapping my focus. I blink and find him right in front of me, concern etched deep across his face. His eyes drop to my torn, barely-there clothing—widening.
“They took her,” I say, already pushing forward, the crowd parting instinctively around me.
“Took her? Where?” Nolan falls in beside me, breath uneven, trying to keep pace.
“To do the binding,” I grind out, spinning to face him as the weight of the noise presses down. “Probably because of this.”
I gesture sharply to the crowd. To the bodies. To the magic bleeding from the walls.
His face drains of color. And I immediately regret the edge in my tone. Because it’s obvious now—he started this. And I think it’s the only reason the Council moved so fast.
Nolan doesn’t speak at first.
His mouth opens, but no sound comes out—like he’s trying to swallow the truth and the guilt all at once. The noise of the protest around us swells, but I don’t look away from him.
“I just wanted them to see her,” he finally says, voice hoarse. “To remember she’s a person. Not a weapon. Not a risk to be neutralized. I didn’t think they’d—” He cuts himself off, hands curling into fists. “I thought maybe we could buy more time.”
I exhale, some of my fury cracking around the edges.
“I know,” I say, quieter now. “I thought that too.”
He looks up at me, surprise flickering in his eyes.
“And I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” I add, because it’s the truth. “You’re trying. You’re doing more than most people ever would.”
He swallows hard. “But it still wasn’t enough, was it?”
“No,” I admit, stepping closer, “but it’s not over yet.”
The protest is still going—chants like thunder in our ears, static clinging to every breath—but for a second, it feels like just the two of us are standing there, holding the broken pieces of what we couldn’t stop and still choosing to fight anyway.
He nods once, determined.
“Then let’s go,” he says.
I don’t hesitate.
We move fast—my bare feet slapping cold stone, breath sharp in my lungs, the burn in my muscles nothing compared to what’s clawing inside my chest from the Veilbond tightening inside of me.
I don’t know if Nolan’s keeping up, and I don’t look back to check. I can’t stop. Not now. Not when she’s being dragged into the one place I was supposed to protect her from.
The corridors blur, sharp turns and steep stairs, the scent of old magic thickening the closer we get.
We round the final bend, and I see it—the outer chamber doors. Lit with a soft, pulsing glow that turns my stomach cold.
Too late.
I stumble to a stop, one hand hitting the stone wall to steady myself. My other hand curls into a fist before slamming hard against the door.
Nothing moves.
“Shit,” I hiss, slamming my palm against it again. “Lindsay—”
“She’s in there.” Nolan’s voice is tight, hoarse like something inside him already knows. “I can feel it.”
I nod once, jaw clenched.
He steps closer, his hand brushing the edge of the warded door. “They sealed it. I felt the snap just before we turned the corner.”
Magic hums around us, deep and pulsing—like a heartbeat, but wrong. Not hers. Not the tethered kind. It’s colder. Older. Coiled with intent. And I feel it tightening inside me like a noose.
“She’s alone in there.” The words rip out of me like splinters. I press both hands to the door, gritting my teeth. “We were right here.”
“If we were a few seconds sooner,” Nolan says, but his voice is hollow, and he doesn’t believe it any more than I do.
“I should’ve fought harder,” I mutter, my hands sliding down the door. “Should’ve made them kill me first.”
He’s quiet beside me.
I drop to my knees. I don’t know what they’re doing to her. But I feel it—like thread pulling from bone.
“They’re hurting her,” I whisper.
Nolan closes his eyes. “I know.”
The runes flash once—brief and bright, like lightning cracking under skin. And something inside that chamber shifts.
I freeze. So does he.
He sinks to the ground beside me, one knee braced, his face pale. “If we can’t stop it—”
“Then we stop what comes next.”