Chapter 31 Lindsay
THIRTY-ONE
LINDSAY
It feels like the entire academy exhaled fear and inhaled frantic determination after that meeting.
Classes are canceled. Finals postponed. The hallways vibrate with movement—students carry boxes of candles, chalk, ritual bowls, and containers of powdered moonstone.
Faculty bark orders. Every fae on campus looks wired and over-caffeinated, which is saying something.
It’s almost as if having the Fae Prince here has them all overcompensating or attempting to get his attention.
The Solstice Ritual isn’t going to happen for another five weeks apparently, not that I have paid attention to any of that since the dance. But preparations for them have been pushed up. They're the only thing anyone can talk about.
And everyone looks at me like I might accidentally fracture the veil again by breathing wrong.
Great.
Right back to the suspicion; no longer the hero. Not that I need to be viewed as a hero. I really just want to be treated like everyone else. A student here to learn control.
The campus transforms in front of my eyes. Even the stone walls seem to vibrate with it. The moving staircases become more erratic, and the tilt to some of the balconies almost seem to be moving to observe everything.
Ritual circles get scrubbed into the courtyard stones, at least they look like the circle that the council put me in when they tried to bind me. A shiver runs down my spine as I look at them. It’s not fear exactly, but awareness that they can be used for good or bad.
The ancient protective runes around the academy are being repainted by fae with trembling hands. And the prince walks among them, whispering things I can’t hear to each one he passes. Their hands become steady and sure as he moves on, so he must be reassuring them. It’s interesting to watch.
Everyone must walk in pairs now. No exceptions. And Tamsin had to help a few fae with something ritual-related, so I’m with Raiden.
He walks beside me, acting more like a guard than a boyfriend—if he is my boyfriend. I think he’s my boyfriend… maybe? Not that defining it matters right now. There are more pressing things. Like the patrol schedule in my hands.
Raiden hovers over my shoulder like he’s trying to intimidate the ink into rearranging itself.
My name has five patrol assignments for this week:
Dorian
Raiden
Auron
Kael
Nolan
And, of course, the universe hates me, because the very first patrol on this list?
Dorian. Exactly as he promised. I stare at it like the name might vanish if I glare hard enough.
I don’t think I’m a fan of his royal highness.
And if he calls me a little mouse again, he might learn that I’m more akin to a lion.
Shaking myself out of thoughts of Dorian, I blink and point at the name in the middle. “What is Auron doing on this list?”
Raiden leans over my shoulder, scowling. “Good question.”
“Are we the only ones stuck with this?” I ask. We were the only ones called to Headmaster Veyne’s office after the meeting, but Auron’s on here…which means maybe other magically-strong students got assigned too.
“Apparently not,” Raiden says as Nolan approaches us with Mira Cade. They’re both carrying stacks of books—very on-brand for them.
“We found some history texts about the original Solstice Ritual,” Nolan says. “It was—” He stops when he sees our faces. “What’s wrong?”
I hold up my list. “Auron is on here.”
Nolan winces. Mira doesn’t even bother hiding her reaction.
“He probably didn’t volunteer,” Mira says, shifting one of her books under her arm. “His dad is on the Council. They definitely volunteered him.”
Great. Forced volunteerism. That always bodes well. I fold the schedule once, twice, trying not to picture what patrolling with Auron would even look like. My own personal hell.
He gets under my skin, and I can’t explain it. Almost the same feeling as having an itch you can’t reach, a constant annoyance until you’re able to scratch it. He’s so sure of himself. Confidence is cute on Nolan. On Auron, it makes me want to punch him in the throat.
“He protected you with us, after the council tried to bind you,” Raiden says. “You’ll be safe with him.”
My eyebrows shoot up so high they practically hit my hairline as my eyes swing to Raiden in shock. Why did no one mention that to me already? I mean Nolan said he started the movement, but neither of them said anything about him fighting next to my guys.
“He what?”
“It’s true,” Nolan admits quietly as though he feels guilty for not telling me sooner. “He… arrived when I thought we were going to lose. He didn’t let them get near you.”
I stare at them, my pulse thudding in my ears. Auron. The same guy who has gone out of his way to taunt me on multiple occasions. The one who ran during the dance. It feels like my brain is getting mixed signals. He protected me.
“Okay,” I breathe. “That… is not information I expected today.”
Raiden nudges my shoulder gently. “That’s why you can trust him on patrol.”
My brain still feels like it’s lagging three steps behind the conversation, but Nolan clears his throat and nods toward the nearest building.
“We should—um—sit. And read this before patrols start.” He lifts his stack of books a little. “Some of it is… intense.”
Raiden immediately angles his body toward me, as if escorting me anywhere is now a sacred duty. “Dining hall?”
“It’s closest,” Mira says. “And the tables are bigger.” She glances at the top book. “We’ll need space.”
Great. Nothing screams fun evening like ancient ritual homework.
The four of us start walking together, Nolan and Mira discussing page numbers while Raiden stays close enough that his shoulder brushes mine with every few steps. His protective instincts are so strong they probably have their own zip code.
We reach the dining hall and it’s buzzing—students grabbing food, professors whispering at corners of tables, fae nervously fidgeting with jewelry and wards. But there’s an empty spot near the windows, so we claim it.
Mira drops her books onto the table with a thud that echoes the hall.
“Okay,” she says, tying her hair up with a pencil, “let’s break this down.”
Nolan flips open the top book, adjusting his glasses. “The original Solstice Rite wasn’t just a protection ritual. It was used to reinforce the Veil after catastrophic weakening events.”
“Like right now,” Raiden mutters.
I sit across from him, leaning my elbows on the table. “So what do we do during the ritual?”
Mira slides a heavy, rune-covered book toward me. “It’s… complicated. There are four sections, each tied to elemental and Veil-aligned magic. Different groups perform different parts.”
“Students weren’t usually participants,” Nolan adds softly. “It was mostly fae and the oldest magic users.”
“But now we all are,” I say.
Raiden nods grimly. “Seems like it.”
I flip open the book, scanning old sketches of ritual circles, incantation spirals, and diagrams of energy flow.
“This is insane,” I whisper. “Half of this looks like it was written during caveman times.”
“Ancient magic survived because it works,” Mira says, tapping a diagram. “Even if it’s dramatic about it.”
Nolan points at a passage. “‘Participants stand at the cardinal points, channeling resonance into the Veil.’”
“Resonance,” Raiden repeats slowly. “As in… the thing the headmaster says we have with the veil because we’ve touched it?”
Mira grimaces. “Yeah. But it is also what the monsters hunt. That’s why we’re walking in pairs. The faculty pairs are supposed to keep us grounded so the creatures don’t follow a single signature.”
“And Auron is on patrol with me,” I say dryly. “So his dad and the Circle of Blood think I’m safer with him.”
Raiden doesn’t respond, but his jaw tightens.
Nolan clears his throat. “There’s more. The Rite strengthens the Veil, but… it also wakes everything near it.”
“Wakes it?” I echo.
“Yeah.” He flips to another page. “The original Rite caused dormant Veil creatures to stir. Some broke through.”
I swallow. “That sounds… great.”
“It’s controlled,” Nolan assures me quickly. “When done right.”
I stare at the elaborate diagram in front of me. Four circles. Sigils in looping patterns I don’t recognize. Words in two languages I can’t read.
“How am I supposed to do this? What if I screw it all up?” I whisper.
Raiden reaches across the table, fingertips brushing mine for a moment. “You won’t be doing it alone, we will be together.”
Nolan nods instantly. “We’ll be there for every step.”
Mira offers a tight but genuine smile. “You have more magic control than you think, Lindsay.”
I close the book slowly, heart thudding.
Great.
Patrols. Ancient rituals. Creatures waking up.
And my first patrol…is with Fae Prince Dorian Holt. Fantastic. Just what my nerves needed: a powerful, gorgeous, unreadable fae prince walking next to me in the dark.
I’m still staring at the ink on the page when a shadow ripples across the table.
Not metaphorically. Actually.
The lantern beside us dims for half a second.
Raiden’s hand pulls back from mine. Nolan stiffens. Mira’s head jerks up. And I feel him before I see him.
Kael.
He steps out of the dim corner of the dining hall as if he wasn’t there until the exact moment he wanted to be. His expression is unreadable, his posture controlled, shadows tucked close to his boots like obedient puppies.
His eyes meet mine for one heartbeat. Something flickers there—familiar, warm, kind—and then it’s gone. Just like that.
He turns the rest of the way toward us. “How’s preparation?” His voice is steady. Too steady. As though everything inside him has been locked behind a door he doesn’t intend to open.
My throat tightens. “We’re… trying to understand the Rite.”
Nolan lifts one of the books in demonstration. “It’s a lot. A lot, a lot.”
Kael nods once, but he doesn’t step closer or lean in. Doesn’t hover in the same way he usually does, as he did two nights ago when he didn’t want to let me go.
God, that was less than forty-eight hours ago. How is that even possible? He’s a rolling storm today. Quiet on the surface, lightning nowhere to be seen, just that telltale breeze that starts to pick up before it really hits.
“You’ll figure it out,” he says plainly.
There is no hint of the man who whispered against my cheek like he was terrified to lose me.
Raiden shifts in his chair, uncomfortable. Nolan pretends to read but absolutely is not reading.
I wet my lips. “Are you… okay?”
Kael’s jaw tightens for half a second—barely visible—before his expression smooths again.
“I’m fine.”
But his shadows twitch—as though they know the truth.
He looks at the patrol schedule still in my hand. “Your first patrol is tonight. Who are you with?”
“With Dorian,” Raiden mutters under his breath.
Kael’s eyes shift slightly, a slight calculation happening behind them. As if he is weighing Dorian’s name and coming to some kind of decision.
“He won’t hurt you,” Kael says. His tone makes it sound like a fact.
But he doesn’t say I’ll be there if you need me.
He doesn’t say I’ll watch from the shadows.
He doesn’t say you won't be alone. He just stands there, and it feels as if something inside my chest pulls taut. Jesus, he shows me the tiniest bit of kindness and I feel like a girl just waiting on more of the same, when he’s been cryptic more than not.
“Right,” I say softly. “Good.”
Kael nods once. “Stay aware tonight.”
Then he steps back into the shadows—or maybe the shadows step around him—and he’s gone.
Raiden exhales. “Something’s off with him.”
No. Something’s off between us. And it’s hard not to feel like it’s my fault.
Nolan gives me a worried look. Mira frowns at her book, then at me, then at the empty spot where Kael vanished.
I try to breathe around the knot forming in my chest. “He was fine when he left us yesterday,” I say quietly. “Or… he seemed fine. I don’t know what changed.”
Raiden rubs the back of his neck. “Do you think he found something he’s not sharing with us?”
Nolan hesitates, shifting the book on the table. “He might. If it was to protect you, he absolutely would.” He glances at me, expression softening. “You should have seen him when we were fighting off the Veil creatures. I wasn’t sure he’d ever let you out of his sight.”
Heat flickers in my chest.
Nolan adds, “It looked like he was afraid something would happen to you the second he blinked.”
I swallow hard. I can’t imagine that.
Mira taps her pencil absently. “He didn’t really look angry,” she says. “Just… somewhere else.”
Raiden sighs. “He’s not good with emotions. Or people. Or communicating. Or…” He waves a hand vaguely. “Anything.”
That actually earns a tiny laugh from me, even though it hurts.
“I’ll talk to him later,” I say. “Or try.”