Chapter 19 Lindsay #2
My mark ignites, flaring violet and white beneath my sleeve, and the runes carved into the stone pulse in answer. A fine web of glowing threads spreads out from beneath my feet, racing across the floor like cracks made of starlight, all of it converging on the pedestal at the room’s center.
Books shudder. Shelves creak. One rune high above sparks and fizzles out entirely.
Tamsin lets out a sound somewhere between a gasp and a laugh. “Okay, so this isn’t creepy at all. Totally normal. Just your average cursed library reacting to my bestie’s skin tattoo.”
I don’t answer.
I can’t.
Because the pedestal’s book has begun to glow. And the air, dry and brittle before, now tastes like magic mid-bloom—heady and metallic, like the moment before a storm breaks across the sky.
I don’t mean to touch it.
Not really.
But something draws me in, like gravity with intent. Like the book wants me to. My fingers graze the cover.
The moment I do, the world erupts.
A burst of magic explodes from the pedestal, not like the other flares I’ve felt before, but deeper.
Wilder. Raw Veil magic, unfiltered and ancient.
It slams into me, through me, as if the Veil itself is reaching out to pull me closer.
My mark sears, white-hot, and for a breathless second, I feel everything—the academy, the Veil, something vast and broken behind it all—
And then the room howls.
Tamsin stumbles back with a choked curse in a language I don’t recognize. Her hand clutches at her chest like it burns her too. “Stars and shadow, Lindsay—what did you do?!”
I can’t speak. My vision’s gone silver at the edges. The book thrums beneath my palm, pulsing with my heartbeat. I try to pull away, but it’s too late—the magic is already threading into me and sinking into my bones.
A sound cuts through it all; a low, commanding growl, like thunder with teeth.
Kael.
He steps through a ripple in the air, like he sliced the Veil open with nothing but will.
Not glamoured. Not calm.
His horns curve upward in sharp, gleaming lines. His eyes—pale and furious—lock onto me like I’m the source of every war he’s ever fought. His wings stretch wide, casting shadows over the ruined room. Power rolls off of him in hot, angry waves.
“What in the fuck are you doing?” His voice is low and lethal, edged with something that scrapes down my spine.
The sound of it slams into me like a shockwave—jarring, electric.
It cuts straight through the strange haze that had started to wrap around my thoughts, yanking me out of whatever spell the book, or the room, had tried to cast. The connection breaks, and I stumble back a half step, suddenly aware of just how deep under I’d started to fall.
He doesn’t look at Tamsin. His gaze is on me like I'm the only one in the room. He strides toward me like the world is ending and I’m the reason why.
My pulse jumps, but not from fear. From fury.
“Exploring,” I snap, yanking my hand from the book. “Last I checked, that wasn’t a crime.”
His eyes narrow, brittle as shattered glass. “You keep walking into places you don’t understand, touching things that could kill you—and you don’t stop. Do you enjoy trying to get yourself killed?”
I take a step toward him, chin lifted. “Oh, I’m sorry—was I supposed to just leave it alone? Pretend like I didn’t feel it calling to me?”
His wings flare slightly, his jaw tightening. “You don’t understand what you’re messing with.”
“Then explain it!” I fire back. “Because I’m tired of not knowing what the hell is happening to me.”
He closes the last of the distance between us, voice dropping low. “You think this is a game? You think the Veil calls to just anyone? You could’ve torn something open just now. You could’ve died.”
“I didn’t,” I say, staring up at him, pulse hammering. “And maybe I’m not afraid of what’s coming.”
“You should be.”
We’re chest to chest now. Breathing the same ragged air. His expression shifts—not softened exactly, but something cold in it gives way. His bare hand lifts, almost without thought, and his thumb brushes along my cheekbone.
The second his skin touches mine, it hits.
Veil magic stirs again—slow and ancient and knowing. Not wild like the tether with Raiden. This is different. Deeper. Quieter. Like something waking up inside of me that recognizes him.
His eyes darken. His hand lingers. My breath freezes as my stomach dips. Shit. Is he going to kiss me?
But he just whispers, “You don’t know what you are.”
“Um, hate to break up whatever weird soul-gazing moment this is,” Tamsin says from behind us, dry amusement ringing in her words, “but if this place starts collapsing or exploding, I’d really prefer not to be collateral damage in your magical foreplay.”
I jolt back, heat flooding my cheeks. Kael’s hand falls away, but he doesn’t react to her tone. His eyes stay locked on mine.
“Stay out of places that hum with death,” he says. “Next time, I might not get there in time. And Raiden obviously can’t be trusted to keep you out of trouble.”
And then, without another word, he turns, steps through the same ripple in the air he came from, and vanishes like a shadow swallowed by the dark.
Tamsin exhales. “Okay. That was...hot. Also terrifying. Also—what the actual void, Lindsay?”
I shake my head; I actually don't know.
We slip through the Forbidden Wing’s cracked archway in silence at first. My pulse is still thundering from the rush of Veil magic—and from him.
Tamsin’s the one who breaks it.
“So…” she says slowly, glancing sideways at me. “You wanna tell me what just happened back there, or should I just assume that broody demon boy shows up anytime you’re about to explode?”
I rub the back of my neck. “He does seem to show up. Like he’s got a sixth sense for me doing something dangerous.”
“Why did you touch the book?”
“I didn’t mean to,” I mutter. “It…called to me.”
Tamsin snorts. “Right. Magical grimoires are seductive like that. Next time maybe make it buy you a drink first.”
I nudge her with my elbow, but the smile is short-lived. “There was a surge when I touched it. Like everything inside me lit up at once. Worse than Combat Casting. Worse than the Dueling Pit. And when I looked up…Kael was just there.”
She hums. “Yeah, about that—how did he even get there? Is he tracking you now? Should I be worried you’ve got some kind of shadow stalker kink?”
I stop walking. “I think…he sensed it. The Veil magic. He tore through it like it was nothing.”
Tamsin’s face shifts, something cautious behind her sarcasm. “That’s not supposed to be possible. Even the strongest fae need rituals to slip through the Veil like that. I don't know of any demons that can.”
I nod slowly. “And when he touched me—just my cheek—it was like something inside me recognized him. On a soul level.”
Tamsin doesn’t speak for a few seconds, which is rare. Then, “That book didn’t just react to you, Lindsay. It responded. And if Kael felt it through the Veil, that means whatever is happening to you? It’s bigger than we thought.”
I swallow. “You felt it too.”
She gives me a look. “Yeah. My bloodline doesn’t play nice with Veil surges. It flared cold the second your hand touched that cover.”
We walk a little farther before she adds, more quietly, “You think he knows what you are?”
I wrap my arms around myself. “He said I didn’t. Which means he probably does.”
“Classic cryptic demon nonsense,” Tamsin mutters, rubbing her temples. “Next time he appears from thin air, maybe stop him before he goes all soul-touchy and vanishes like Batman.”
I try to laugh, but it comes out shaky. My mind keeps replaying the look in Kael’s eyes—like he felt the connection too.
Tamsin and I round the last corner of the rotting hall. The air shifts immediately—lighter, warmer, less like the Veil is breathing down my neck.
Which is exactly when I feel it.
A hum. A pressure. A tug in my sternum—familiar in a way that makes my stomach twist.
Raiden.
He stands at the far end of the corridor, rigid as a blade, hands fisted at his sides. His jaw clenches when he sees me. Not anger, but something worse. Fear sharpened into fury.
“Shit,” Tamsin breathes under her breath. “He looks like he’s about two seconds from flipping a table. Or a person. Probably you.”
I shoot her a warning look, but she’s already backing away like a cat that wants no part of the incoming thunderstorm.
“Well,” she says brightly, inching backward. “This is where I—Bye.”
“Traitor,” I hiss.
“Love you too!” she calls, already halfway down the hall.
Then she’s gone. And it’s just Raiden.
He waits until she’s out of sight before he moves. One step. Two. Controlled, lethal strides until he’s standing right in front of me, close enough that his tether-magic hits me like a hotter, more focused surge than the book’s.
“You were in there.” His voice is low, quiet in the way that I’ve come to learn means he’s barely holding it together.
“I—”
He cuts me off. “Lindsay.” My name cracks out of him like a warning and a plea all at once. “What were you doing in the Forbidden Wing?”
I swallow. “Exploring.”
His eyes flash. “Exploring?” He takes another step, caging me against the stone. “The Veil rippled. Hard. I felt you slip out of range for a second, like something swallowed the bond. Do you understand how close that was to—”
He breaks off, dragging a hand through his hair. His breathing is uneven. He’s not angry because I broke a rule—he’s angry because I scared him.
I hate that that stings and soothes me at the same time.
“I had it under control,” I say quietly.
“No,” he says. “You didn’t.”
I stiffen. “You don’t know that.”
His gaze sharpens, fury twisting into something raw. “Kael was there.”
The words freeze me.
“You smell like him,” Raiden says, softer now, too soft. “His shadow magic clinging to you. To your skin.” He lifts a hand but stops short of touching me, fingers trembling as if he’s fighting himself. “What did he do?”
Heat crawls up my neck. “Nothing.”
“Lindsay.”
God, why does he have to say my name like that?
“He saved me,” I admit, barely above a whisper.
Raiden’s jaw flexes so hard I hear his teeth grind. “Of course he did.”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“It’s always like that with him,” he snaps, then shoves a hand against the stone beside my head as if he needs something solid to keep from breaking apart.
“He feels you. Through the Veil. Through your magic. You think he won’t keep showing up?
He uses it as an opportunity to get closer. I don’t trust him.”
I don’t know what to say. Because he’s right. Kael is drawn to me like a storm to a weak point in the world.
And Raiden feels it.
He exhales shakily, leaning his forehead closer—not touching, but close enough that our breaths mingle. “I’m supposed to be the one protecting you. That’s what the bond is for. But you keep running toward danger like you don’t care if you live through it.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Then tell me you won’t go back in there.”
I hesitate.
And that’s answer enough. He knows I will.
Raiden’s eyes close for a single pained second before they reopen, darker than before. “I can’t lose you,” he says quietly. “Not to the Veil. Not to him.”
He pushes off the wall, stepping back as though the space between us is the only way to keep his control. “Go,” he murmurs. “Before I say something I can’t take back.”
My chest tightens. I’m pretty sure he just said something he can’t take back. “Raiden—”
“Please,” he adds, voice rough, refusing to look at me. “Not right now.”