Chapter 9 Lindsay
NINE
LINDSAY
“Hungry?” I ask, looking up at Raiden.
He gives me a crooked smile and nods for me to lead the way. He falls into step beside me without a word.
The dining hall is already filling with the lunch rush when we arrive.
Long tables stretch beneath vaulted ceilings carved with constellations that glow faintly, enchanted to shift with the real night sky outside.
The smell of roasted meat, fresh bread, and something spiced and sweet hits me all at once.
My stomach growls—loud enough that Raiden chuckles low beside me.
We spot them immediately.
Tamsin and Nolan are at our usual table near the tall arched windows, the one everyone else has started leaving empty as though it’s cursed.
Tamsin is halfway through demolishing a towering sandwich, gesturing wildly with one hand while Nolan listens with that patient, slightly dazed expression he gets when she’s on a roll.
His tray is neat—salad, protein, some fries, and a single apple sliced with surgical precision.
Hers is chaos: fries scattered like shrapnel, half a sandwich dangling from her mouth, a milkshake already half-gone.
They both look up the second we enter.
Tamsin’s eyes go wide. She swallows her bite so fast she nearly chokes, then slams both palms on the table.
“You’re alive!” she stage-whispers, loud enough that half the hall turns. “And you’re walking—I figured after being claimed by a kitsune shifter your legs wouldn’t work! I’m impressed.”
Nolan pushes his glasses up, relief flooding his face. “We were…concerned, not about, uh that, but the Council.”
Raiden snorts as we slide onto the bench across from them. I grab a roll from the basket in the center and tear off a piece, popping it into my mouth. The bread is still warm. God, I missed real food.
“So,” Tamsin says, leaning forward with both elbows on the table, eyes glittering. “Spill. What happened in there? Did you make them cry? Beg? Wet themselves? Give me the gory details.”
I swallow, shrug one shoulder. “I told them I’m staying. Taking classes. Learning what they never wanted me to know.”
Nolan blinks. “You…negotiated?”
“I didn’t negotiate.” My voice stays level, almost bored. “I told them what would happen if they tried to stop me. They listened.”
Tamsin’s grin is feral. “You threatened them.”
“I promised them consequences.” I meet her gaze. “Fractures. Monsters. The things they locked away because they were too afraid to kill them. I told them I’d open the doors and let everything out. Starting with them.”
Silence drops around our table sounding similar to a ward snapping into place. Nolan’s fork freezes halfway to his mouth. Tamsin stares at me for a long beat. Then she throws her head back and cackles—loud, delighted, unhinged.
“Oh my gods,” she wheezes, wiping a tear from her eye. “You could have demanded anything—power, money, their firstborns, a private island made of chocolate—and you decided to ask for classes that will most definitely give you homework?”
Raiden barks a laugh. Nolan’s mouth twitches, fighting a smile.
I shrug again, tearing off another piece of bread. “Knowledge is power. And I want all of it.”
Tamsin leans back, still grinning. “You’re terrifying. I love it. I’m so proud I could cry.”
Nolan finally lowers his fork, studying me with that quiet intensity he saves for particularly complicated runes. “You’re really going to sit in lectures? After everything?”
“I’m going to sit in lectures,” I say, “take notes, ask questions, and learn every secret they’ve buried.
Then I’m going to use it against them.” I pop the bread into my mouth, chew slowly.
“They think they can control me by keeping me close. They’re wrong.
They just handed me the keys to their entire empire. ”
Raiden’s hand finds my thigh under the table—warm and possessive, a silent that’s my girl, filtering through our mental link.
Tamsin raises her milkshake in a mock toast. “To Lindsay—daughter of the dark, terror of the Council, future valedictorian of villainy.”
Nolan lifts his water glass with a small, crooked smile. “To homework with extreme prejudice.”
Raiden clinks his fist against both. “To my mate, who just made the most powerful people in our world piss themselves without raising her voice.”
I don’t lift a glass. I don’t need to.
“Let them think they’re still in control,” I say softly. “It’ll make the moment they realize they aren’t so much sweeter.”
Tamsin sighs happily, stealing a fry from Nolan’s plate. “I’ve never been more in love with you.”
Before Nolan can protest the fry theft or I can respond, a familiar voice slides into the space between us. “Well, well. If it isn’t the conquering Veilborn and her loyal court.”
Dorian.
He appears at the end of the table like he’s stepped out of thin air—though I know he simply walked up while we were all distracted by Tamsin’s theatrics.
His hair catches the enchanted starlight from the ceiling, turning it into a soft halo that does nothing to hide the wicked gleam in his eyes.
He’s in his usual effortless finery: dark green velvet jacket, unbuttoned just enough to show the crisp white shirt beneath, sleeves rolled to the elbows, every movement deliberate and graceful.
He doesn’t sit. He leans one hip against the table edge, close enough that his fingers trail idly along the back of Nolan’s chair.
“My, my,” he purrs, gaze sweeping over the three of us with equal, shameless hunger. “You all look…deliciously triumphant.”
Raiden snorts, but there’s a faint flush creeping up his neck. “Back off, fae.”
Dorian’s smile widens—slow, predatory, and delighted.
“Oh, Raiden. So territorial. I like it when you growl.” He reaches out, casual as breathing, and lets one fingertip trace the edge of a single tail that’s draped over the bench between Nolan and me.
The tail twitches, half irritated, half intrigued.
“You’re practically glowing, kitsune. Mated bliss suits you.
Makes me want to see how much brighter you burn when someone else touches what’s yours. ”
Raiden’s eyes narrow, but the corner of his mouth twitches. He doesn’t pull the tail away.
Dorian’s attention slides to Nolan next. He leans down until their faces are level, close enough that Nolan’s glasses fog slightly from the warmth of Dorian’s breath.
“And you, darling scholar…” Dorian’s voice drops to velvet sin.
“You’re trying so hard to look composed, but I can see the way your pulse is jumping right here.
” One long finger ghosts along the side of Nolan’s neck, never quite touching.
Nolan’s breath hitches audibly. “Tell me—did you spend the entire night imagining what it would feel like if I dragged you into a dark corner and kissed every clever thought right out of that beautiful head?”
Nolan’s face goes scarlet. He opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. Nothing comes out.
Dorian chuckles, low and rich, then straightens—only to turn that same molten gaze on me.
He steps around the table until he’s directly behind me, close enough that I have to turn and tilt my head back to meet his eyes.
His hand lifts, and he catches a loose strand of my hair between thumb and forefinger, twirling it once before tucking it behind my ear.
The touch lingers, knuckles brushing the sensitive skin just below my lobe.
“And you, my terrifying queen,” he murmurs, voice pitched for my ears alone, even though everyone at the table can hear.
“You walked into that chamber and made them tremble. I felt the ripple of your power all the way across campus. It was…” He exhales, almost reverent.
“…exquisite. I’ve never wanted to kneel more in my life. ”
His thumb traces the shell of my ear once—light and teasing—before he drops his hand.
“But I won’t kneel yet,” he adds, lips curving. “Not until you order me to. And when you do?” He leans in until his mouth is a whisper from mine. “I’ll make it worth every second you waited.”
He straightens smoothly, stepping back with that lazy grace that makes the movement look like a dance.
Tamsin is grinning so wide her cheeks must hurt. Nolan looks as if he might actually combust. Raiden’s tails are twitching with a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement.
Dorian spreads his hands in mock innocence. “What? I’m merely offering my congratulations. Equal opportunity admiration. It’s only polite.”
I meet his gaze, letting my own shadows flicker—just a hint—around my fingers.
“Keep talking like that,” I say softly, “and I might actually take you up on it.”
His eyes flash with pure delight.
“Promises, promises, Veilborn.”
He winks—once at me, once at Raiden, once at Nolan—and saunters off toward the serving line like he didn’t just set the entire table on fire with a handful of words.
Tamsin exhales dramatically. “Okay, I need a cold shower, and I’m not even the one he was flirting with.”
Nolan finally finds his voice—hoarse. “He’s…a lot.”
Raiden’s tail curls possessively around my waist. “He’s trouble.”
I watch Dorian’s retreating back, the way heads turn as he passes, the effortless way he commands every room he enters.
“Yeah,” I say. “But I’m pretty sure he’s our trouble.”
And the shadows at my feet purr in agreement.