Chapter 15 Lindsay
FIFTEEN
LINDSAY
The library is a refuge I find myself gravitating toward after the chaos of the last few days.
The stone walls feel like a place of stability, their quiet weight a small comfort.
I walk through the rows of bookshelves, the faint scent of leather and parchment welcoming me like an old friend.
The rhythm of my steps echoes in the otherwise still room, and I breathe in the peace.
Nolan's already there, deeply absorbed in one of his many books. The quiet scratch of his quill against parchment is the only sound in the library, and for a moment, I almost forget everything that’s happened.
I want to just…be. To escape the tension that’s been hanging over me ever since I woke up.
I drop into the chair next to him. “Sorry I missed Runic Arts.”
“I took notes for you,” he says without looking up. Then he drags his book bag closer and pulls out a spiral-bound notebook. “Are you okay? I heard your magic…went out of control.”
I wince. “Is that what they’re saying?”
He rubs the back of his neck and nods. “Yeah.”
I lean back in my chair and sigh. “Great. So I’m the unstable human with mystery magic. Love that for me.”
“I don’t think anyone’s saying that exactly,” he offers gently.
I rest my chin on my hand. “It just feels like…I’ve got this Veilbind, but it didn't help. Like I’m trying to control something that was never meant to be mine. Maybe a human having magic really is against some cosmic rule, and I’m being punished.”
He reaches for me, his hand covering mine.
“You’re not being punished. You’re just learning.
And I’ve been researching…” His voice lowers, like he’s letting me in on some secret.
“I think you must have Fae somewhere in your bloodline or a latent shifter. Only Fae and Shifters form that strong of a connection with the Veil.”
My eyebrows rise. “You think I’m part Fae or a shifter?”
He nods, pushing up his glasses. “But… uh… they’re usually from noble bloodlines. Like Raiden’s.”
Of course. Raiden, the golden Veil-favored wonder boy. I sigh again, softer this time. “Well, if I’ve got any noble blood, it must’ve gotten lost in transit.”
Nolan smiles faintly, but then his expression shifts, eyes flicking over my shoulder toward the far end of the library.
“Do you hear that?” he murmurs.
I go still. There, just beyond the end of our aisle, two voices, low and cold, slip through the quiet like knives.
“…doesn’t belong here. I don’t care what the Headmaster says.”
“Too dangerous. Too unpredictable.”
Nolan stiffens beside me. “They’re talking about you.”
I nod once, jaw tightening.
“She’s already drawing attention. Someone needs to control her, and the Fang failed. So it's our turn. The Circle is meeting later.”
Nolan's fingers curl around the edge of his book. “That’s not good.”
“No kidding,” I whisper. My stomach churns. What the fuck is The Circle? And why are they meeting about me? I don’t even know what that means, but it sounds like something I should be afraid of.
He leans slightly, lowering his voice further. “I can try to find out which Bloods they are. Discreetly. If you want.”
I glance at him, heart twisting. Nolan’s not a fighter. He’s not someone who thrives on intrigue or confrontation. But he’s still willing to stick his neck out for me.
“Not yet,” I murmur. “Let’s not poke anything we don’t understand. And I already know trusting a Blood is a bad idea.”
He nods, but the tension in his shoulders doesn’t ease.
The voices fade, footsteps retreating down another aisle. The moment stretches long and uneasy. And then the door creaks open again, and the library's atmosphere shifts in a different way entirely.
Auron steps inside like he owns the place—tall, regal, quiet. His pale eyes sweep the room, pausing just a beat too long when they land on me.
“Why is he coming over here?” Nolan’s tone is tight, eyes following Auron’s every move.
I glance at him, then back at Auron, who’s making a straight path toward our table. I don’t answer. I can’t. Auron’s already closing the distance between us with the kind of confidence that says he doesn’t just belong here—he owns the air we’re breathing.
He stops on the other side of the table, and for a moment, he just stands there. Silent. Watching me. Not a single glance spared for Nolan. I don’t like how he ignores my friends.
“Lindsay,” he says smoothly, like it’s a greeting we’ve exchanged a hundred times instead of the first word he’s spoken directly to me that didn't sound like an insult. “We should talk.”
I blink up at him, wary. “About what?”
Obviously he’s here to do exactly what his buddies were just talking about. I’m not stupid. I might not know my magic very well or how to control it, but I do know that a wolf in sheep's clothing is still a wolf.
His gaze flickers toward the door, then back to me. “Some things are better discussed outside the echo of old books and curious ears.”
I glance at Nolan, who’s visibly bristling now. “Whatever you have to say, you can say here.”
That earns me the faintest smile from Auron, an expression that somehow feels more dangerous than his usual scowl. “Suit yourself.”
He pulls a chair from the next table, turns it halfway toward me, and sits with the ease of someone fully aware of how unsettling his presence is.
“I know you’ve heard things in the couple of days you've been here,” he says. “About factions. About the Circle of Blood.”
I freeze, heart thudding once, hard. He’s going to say the quiet part out loud. He’s really that confident.
“People talk,” he continues, calmly. “Loudly. Carelessly. They’re afraid of what you could become.”
I glance back at Nolan, whose eyes are narrowed, lips pressed into a thin line. But still, Auron doesn’t acknowledge him. Doesn’t even seem to register he’s there.
“And what do you think I could become?” I ask carefully.
Auron leans forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table. His pale eyes catch the light in a way that makes them seem almost silver. “A problem. A prize. A weapon. That depends on who gets to you first.”
My skin prickles. “Is this a warning?”
He tilts his head. “It’s a suggestion. Be careful who you trust.”
Something flickers behind his eyes then, something almost like sincerity. Almost but not quite.
“And you?” I ask. “Are you someone I should trust?”
That smile again, brief and a little cold. “That’s the thing about trust, Lindsay. It’s always a gamble.”
And then, just as smoothly as he came, he stands. Doesn’t say goodbye. Doesn’t acknowledge Nolan. He just walks away.
Nolan exhales slowly. “What the hell was that?”
I don’t answer.
Nolan rubs the back of his neck again, the tension still visible in his shoulders. “You do know he's in the Circle of Blood, right?”
I nod, staring at the spot where Auron had been seconds ago. “I figured.”
Nolan lets out a sharp breath, quieter this time. “They don’t do friendly. Not unless they want something. And Auron? He’s not the warning type.”
“I got that,” I murmur, my thoughts spinning.
He leans in a little, lowering his voice like someone might be listening. “They’re one of the most elite—and most ruthless—factions in this place. Half their power comes from how much everyone fears them. The other half…is what they’re willing to do behind closed doors.”
That tracks with the whispers we overheard earlier.
“Why me?” I ask, more to myself than to him. “What could they possibly want with me?”
Nolan's brows knit together, like he’s doing the math and hating what it adds up to.
“You’re powerful, Lindsay. Connected to the Veil in a way most people can’t even dream of.
That makes you valuable. And dangerous. Which is exactly what the Circle of Blood likes—power they can control or snuff out. ”
I swallow hard, throat dry. “Do you think Auron’s trying to control me?”
“I think Auron’s here to charm you into thinking he isn’t,” Nolan says, like it physically hurts him to say it.
I look at him, really look at him. He’s worried for me. I can see it all over his face.
“I’m not going to be stupid about this,” I say quietly.
He holds my gaze. “Don’t let him get inside your head, Linds. That’s how they start. They act like they’re helping. Like they’re giving you a choice.”
“And then?”
“They stop asking.”
Tamsin glances over at me, a half-eaten apple in one hand, her dark brow arching high. “He what? Auron isn't nice to anyone but Bloods.”
I sigh, slumping back in my chair. “Yeah. Nolan told me. And I’ve seen it first-hand.”
She narrows her eyes, clearly not loving that answer. “Define nice. Like…actually nice? Or the weird, vaguely threatening kind where he pretends to be charming right before stabbing you with a metaphorical dagger?”
I lift my hands in surrender. “I don’t know! He just—sat down. Talked. Warned me about the Circle of Blood like he wasn’t literally a walking recruitment poster for them. Then got up and left.”
Tamsin lowers the apple slowly, setting it on the table. “That’s not just weird, Lindsay. That’s shady as hell. Auron doesn’t warn. He manipulates. He tests.”
“Well, I failed, I guess, because I'm talking about him,” I mutter, glancing around the dining room for Nolan. He said he’d meet us for dinner. “Have you seen Nolan?”
“Not since lunch.” she says with a shrug, before she leans in across the table, her tone low and serious now.
“But you need to know that Auron’s one of them, Linds.
Born and bred Bloodline elite. He’s got ink on his back older than half the first-years.
They don’t let him off his leash unless they want something. ”
I rest my forehead against the cool surface of the table. “Why does everyone want something from me lately?”
“Because you’ve got the Veil’s attention. And in a place like this?” She taps the side of her head. “That’s currency. Power. Leverage. Depending on who’s holding the knife.”
I lift my head just enough to meet her gaze. “Do you think I’m a target?”