Chapter 10 Kael
TEN
KAEL
The dining hall is too bright. Too loud. Too full of people who don’t know what it feels like to have your soul tethered to someone who might never forgive you.
I stay in the shadows near the pillar—half-dissolved, half-present—the way I’ve stayed for weeks. Watching. Always watching. It’s what I was made for. What the prophecy demanded, the one thing I ignored that put her in danger in the first place.
Until today.
Until the bond between her and Raiden snapped into place similar to a blade sliding home.
I felt it, a physical blow to my heart. I’m not jealous, at least that’s what I tell myself as I stare across the space at her. She’s where she belongs, with Raiden and Nolan. Safe. But my mind can’t help but replay the moment he claimed her.
Her relief. His fire. The way their essences fused—golden and blazing and whole—so bright it seared through every shadow I tried to hide in. I felt her body arch, felt her breath catch, felt the moment she surrendered and the world narrowed to just them.
And beneath it all—woven through every pulse of their new, unbreakable connection—the dark.
The Veil’s darkness.
It clings to her now like a second skin. Not parasitic or invasive. More symbiotic. Patient. Ancient. It breathes when she breathes, hungers when she hungers, and it watches with the same quiet curiosity I’ve always felt in the deepest fractures.
It’s trying to become her.
Or maybe she’s becoming it.
I don’t know which terrifies me more.
The mark on my palm burns—hotter than it has since she returned. Not in protest. In recognition and longing and guilt so thick I can barely breathe through it.
I should leave.
I should melt back into the dark and give her the space she deserves. The space I stole from her by keeping secrets. By failing to stop the Veil from getting her. But my feet won’t move.
Even from across the room, with Raiden’s fire wrapped around her, Nolan’s quiet light, and Tamsin’s bright chaos at her side—our bond tugs at me. Insistent. Gentle but unrelenting with the pull.
I take one step forward. Then another. My shadows trail behind me similar to a cloak I can’t quite shed.
As though she can feel me approaching, her head turns slowly, and her eyes find me through the crowd. My breath freezes in my lungs, and my feet still. I swallow a dry swallow, my lips parting.
It’s like the courtyard, only now I know she sees me. I force myself to meet her gaze and close the remaining distance.
The bond aches inside my chest.
“Lindsay.” Her name is less than I want to say. Hell, I’m not sure what to say to the one person I love more than life itself who I also betrayed. I swallow again.
She tilts her head, and shadows that aren’t mine curl lazily around her ankles, mirroring the way mine reach for her.
“You’ve been watching.” She states it as though it’s a fact.
Another change she brought back. Before I could watch her from the shadows and she would never realize unless I wanted her to.
I nod.
“And what have you seen, Kael?”
I want to savor my name coming from her lips. But I have a feeling it is the darkness clinging to her asking that question. It wants to know if I’ve noticed it and what I plan to do about it.
I force my voice to stay even, though every syllable feels like it’s being dragged over broken glass.
“I’ve seen you come back stronger than anyone who’s ever crossed that threshold,” I say quietly.
“I’ve seen the Veil sink into your skin as if it’s coming home.
I’ve seen the way it breathes when you breathe, watches when you watch.
It’s not hiding from me. It’s…showing off. ”
Her eyes narrow—just a fraction—but the shadows at her feet ripple in response, pleased.
“I’ve seen Raiden claim you,” I continue, the words tasting like ash and longing. “Felt it. Every second. I felt you safe for the first time since you vanished.”
My voice cracks on the last word. She doesn’t flinch or look away.
“I stayed away because I thought you needed space from me,” I say.
“I was wrong to keep secrets from you, and I deserve your anger. But the mark—” I lift my palm, the black sigil still glowing faintly under my skin.
“—it burns. And this—” I gesture to the thin shadow thread I can feel stretching between us, fragile but growing stronger every time she looks at me.
“—it pulls. I tried to fight it. I tried to give you room. But I can’t.
Not anymore. I need to be close to you, even if you hate me. ”
Lindsay stands up and moves around the table to stand in front of me. It takes everything inside of me not to reach out. Her shadows mingle with mine, and they feel different, almost like an extension of her. Up close, I can see a thread of purple and blue in them, looking like tiny thunder clouds.
They don’t attack me, so that’s a plus. But they do brush against me, curious and testing. The darkness inside her reaches for me the same way mine reaches for her—like recognizes like.
She studies me—long enough that the silence feels like a physical weight pressing on my ribs.
Then she speaks, voice low, almost conversational. “I want the book.”
I’m not sure what I expected her to say, but it wasn’t that.
My stomach drops.
“The prophecy book?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
She nods once. “I don’t need protection anymore. And if you want to stop keeping secrets from me, I want the book that holds the prophecy.”
“Are you—”
I don’t even finish asking my question before she says, “I’m positive.”
I glance at the table—Raiden’s tails have stilled completely, Nolan’s hand is frozen mid-reach for his water glass, and Tamsin’s not pretending not to watch us. I look back at Lindsay.
The purple and blue threads in her shadows flicker again, brighter this time. Hungry.
I’m not sure letting whatever darkness that came back with her close to that book is a good idea. The prophecy isn’t just words on a page; it’s a living thing—bound, sealed, watched over by wards older than the academy itself. It was hidden for a reason. It was kept from her for a reason.
But if I voice that doubt out loud, if I tell her the darkness inside her might twist what it reads, might use the words to justify something worse than anything the Council ever planned… I have a feeling the only thing those shadows will let me do from then on is watch.
From the outside.
Again.
I swallow the warning.
“I don’t have it anymore,” I lie.
Her eyebrows go up, and something flickers inside her eyes—disappointment? Amusement? The color in her shadows pulses once, similar to a heartbeat.
“I find that hard to believe. The demon prince with all the secrets wouldn’t let anyone take the book, and he wouldn’t lose it.”
“After you went through the Veil, Headmaster Veyne had my quarters searched. It was taken and moved to a Hidden archive.”
Another secret. Another lie. Because apparently that’s all I can fucking do when it comes to protecting Lindsay from things that want to hurt her.
And maybe I’m one of those things.
Because that’s all I seem to do.
Her gaze doesn’t waver. The shadows at her feet rise slowly, coiling around her calves like living smoke, the purple threads inside them sparking brighter, and mixing with the blue. They don’t threaten. They simply wait.
“Hidden archive,” she says. “Sub-level three. Behind the old rune vault. Warded seven times over. Only three people have access: you, Headmaster Veyne, and the archivist who’s been dead for eighty years.”
My blood runs cold.
She smiles—small, cold, and knowing. It tells me everything I need to know; she can read my mind.
“You think I didn’t learn things in the dark?” she asks. “You think I didn’t walk every corridor the Veil remembered? I know where it is, Kael. I know exactly where you hid it before they could take it. And I know you still have a way in.”
The table is dead silent now.
Raiden’s growl is a low rumble in his chest, clearly feeling the emotions of his mate. Nolan’s eyes are wide behind his glasses. Tamsin’s grin has faded into something watchful, almost wary.
Lindsay steps closer—close enough that her shadows brush my boots, cool and electric.
“I’m not asking for permission,” she says quietly. “I’m telling you. Tonight. After lights-out. You’re going to take me there. You’re going to get us through the wards. And you’re going to stand there while I read every word they tried to keep from me.”
The shadow thread between us pulls—painfully tight now.
I feel the darkness in her lean in, listening. Waiting for me to refuse. If I refuse, those shadows will remember.
They’ll remember the next time they brush against mine.
They’ll remember the next time I try to step into her light.
I meet her eyes—the blue threaded with midnight, the purple flickering like distant lightning. And I nod.
“Tonight,” I say. My voice is rough and resigned. “East stairwell. After lights-out. I’ll get us in.”
She studies me for another heartbeat. Then she nods once. “Good.”
It feels like I’ve been dismissed. The mark on my palm throbs, it’s hot and alive beneath my skin.
Lindsay turns and moves back to her spot without another word.
Her shadows trail her like a royal train, the colorful threads inside them sparking once more before settling.
She slides onto the bench beside Raiden again, close enough that his tail immediately curls around her waist in silent a claim.
I stand there a second longer—rooted—until Tamsin’s voice cuts through the tension like a thrown knife.
“Aaaand… Shadow Daddy just got rejected harder than a first-year trying to flirt with a senior.” She leans back, arms crossed, grin wide and wicked. “Oof. That was brutal. I almost felt bad for you. Almost.”
Raiden snorts, the sound half amusement, half warning.
Nolan shoots Tamsin a look that says not helping, but the corner of his mouth twitches anyway.
Lindsay doesn’t react to the teasing. She simply picks up her fork and spears a piece of whatever is on her plate—methodical, calm, as if she didn’t just issue an ultimatum to the one person who’s spent years guarding the darkest secrets in this place.
I force my legs to move.
I sit—slowly—on the opposite side of the table from her. Close enough to feel the cool brush of her shadows against mine.
Tamsin leans forward, elbows on the table, chin in her hands.
“So,” she says brightly, “we’re breaking into another forbidden archive tonight? Cool. Cool cool cool. Should I bring snacks? Explosives? Emotional support? Because I’m very good at all three.”
Raiden’s growl is low. “No one’s breaking in. Kael has access. And we can be quick.”
“It will only be me and Kael tonight,” Lindsay says, voice flat.
All eyes swing back to me.
I meet them—Raiden’s burning gold, Nolan’s worried brown, Tamsin’s delighted green, and finally Lindsay’s midnight blue.
“That would be best,” I confirm. No hesitation. No room for argument.
Raiden’s tails lash once, then settle.
Nolan exhales slowly. “The wards are layered—blood, shadow, rune, intent. Even if you have access, the archive will know she’s there. It’ll alert the Headmaster.”
“Then we’ll be fast,” Lindsay says.
Tamsin claps her hands once. “I love it. Midnight heist. Forbidden knowledge. Shadow Daddy redemption arc. This is better than any lecture.”
Lindsay’s lips curve—just the barest hint.
She looks at me again.
“East stairwell,” she repeats. “Midnight. Don’t be late.”