Chapter Eighteen #2
Something in my chest pulls tight, like an invisible hand curling inward and urging me elsewhere.
I flip the codex to the map, and ink appears, shifting into lines, the campus sketching itself alive beneath my fingertips. Glowing faintly at the border of the Fae Conservatory is the royal gateway.
Not twenty feet from where I’m standing, and the opposite pathway of the lanterns.
I step off the path and the lanterns flicker and die as I follow where the codex wants to lead—Creed has said that was the whole point of it, right? Like it knows best or some shit.
And there it is. Tucked beyond a curtain of hanging willow branches sits an archway, small enough to miss unless you’re looking straight at it. Gods, it’s beautiful.
Vines of gold and black curl around its frame like veins beneath translucent skin, pulsing faintly, responding to the magic of the campus like a heartbeat. Flowers shaped like falling stars cling to the arch, their petals luminescent and dripping soft sparks into the grass.
And carved deep into the stone lintel, so delicate it could’ve been etched by a whisper: Deveraux.
I step closer, breath drawing slow and uneven. Some instinct in me paces against my ribs, urging caution while another thrums with…curiosity.
“Well, well, King Creed,” I murmur, reaching out. “That’s a half a point for you. But let’s see if there is a lie in there somewhere.”
The moment my fingertips graze the wood, pain snaps up my arm, sharp and electric.
I hiss through my teeth and shake out my hand, then place my palm back against the surface.
This time the burn is instant, searing across my skin like a brand, heat licking up my wrist like molten gold poured beneath the bone, but I don’t pull away. I lean in. Dare it.
The fire climbs hotter and I nearly crumble to my knees when it suddenly drops.
Ice floods outward, freezing the surface beneath my palm, crawling up my veins like frost gripping a windowpane. I gasp and yank back, flexing my fingers as white steam curls from my skin.
“What the fu—”
A whisper cuts across the air, footsteps following.
I focus but don’t move, listening.
Three, maybe four, closing in.
One breath.
A second.
I pivot, hands already finding the dagger at my thigh as figures slide from the shadows between the trees. All students here at Rathe U, each one wearing expressions carved from suspicion to hate.
One steps forward, the wind whirling around her wrist.
“There she is,” she spits. “The Exile rat.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Must’ve taken all of you to come up with that one. Impressive.”
“Shut up.” Another steps beside her, crackling flame in his palm. “You couldn’t just follow the damn path like a good little giftless, could you?”
“Ah, the lanterns.” Glad I looked at my damn codex. “That wasn’t obvious at all, now, was it?”
The other jerks forward again, lips curled back in a sneer. “If Galley would have done her job, we wouldn’t have needed a backup plan.”
Galley. The girl from the Flying Grounds.
That’s what she meant. She was supposed to somehow lead me right into the palm of their hands.
She picked the wrong fucking place to do it.
“Trail to the dark lands or right here in the heart of campus, it doesn’t matter,” she continues. “We’ll just have to kill you a little more silently than planned.”
My head yanks back. “Kill me?”
Angry gifted out for my blood twice in one day?
This place is feeling more like home by the day.
“We know you’re behind the murders!” One hisses, light flickering from her fingertips.
“Right,” I drawl, sliding my gaze across them, counting angles, advantages, and I’d count weapons but these are gifted kids. Their weapons live inside them. Fuck. “Because when I kill someone, I always leave them in public places for maximum inconvenience.”
The girl’s face twists. “You killed your partner in combat class—everyone saw it. But he was a Stygian and you didn’t have the guts, not with our Kings so close. So, you went after someone you saw as weaker just because she was Argents.”
“We know you killed Elena!” another yells.
My jaw ticks. “That’s cute. Completely wrong, but cute.”
They advance, magic thickening in the air around us.
Double fuck.
I throw the first strike, blade aimed low, not to kill but to disable. I don’t miss, drawing a clean line across the calf of the boy on the left. He yells, stumbling, but the girl is already on me, hurling a blast of energy that knocks the wind from my lungs and sends me sliding through the dirt.
I roll, spring back up, only to take a second hit across the ribs.
The force seizes my breath, vision pulsing black at the edges. I slash blindly, catching one across the forearm, and the scent of blood fills the air.
Two down but not enough.
“Whatever enchantment you put on King Legend,” the girl snarls, magic gathering around her like storm clouds, “it’ll fade. And when it does, he’ll see you for exactly what you are.”
I spit blood into the dirt. “Deadly? Gorgeous? Really flexible?”
“Murderer.”
Her spell hits like a sledgehammer.
My knees buckle and pain blooms at the base of my skull, jabbing like someone driving spikes through my neck.
A third steps in, voice cold. “You slit her throat so we will slice yours.”
“I didn’t—”
“You think Argents are weak?” he sneers. “You’re not one of us. Not Stygian. Not Argent. Not even Fae. So, what the hell are you?”
His magic wraps around my ribs, squeezing. A bones creaks and my vision fractures.
“Worthless,” he finishes. “That’s what.”
Blood floods my mouth, my skin burning from the inside out, like something deep within me is trying to claw free.
Just as spots appear before my eyes, a roar whips through the air like thunder.
Legend erupts into the clearing, power crackling off his skin, rolling in waves that shove the attackers backward before he even touches them.
The first boy goes flying—spine slamming into a tree so hard the bark cracks.
The girl tries to lift her hands in surrender, but Legend twists her wrist, hurling it into the dirt where it detonates in a burst of ash.
The last attacker barely opens his mouth to beg for mercy before Legend’s fist connects with his jaw, sending him sprawling, unconscious before he hits the ground.
And then he’s crouching beside me, strong, solid arms carefully scooping me up, holding me as if my bones might dissolve if he loosens even a fraction.
His chest heaves, his jaw tight, and his eyes—gods. They burn like he wants to raze the whole realm for touching me.
I blink up at him, everything spinning, my blood humming with the echo of that roar. I should want to push him, to deny his careful hands and wordless fear he stares down at me with.
But I…don’t want that. Not right now.
Safety wraps around me in the shape of his arms, in the scent of his being…in something I refuse to name.
“It’s okay, little monster,” Legend purrs. “I’ve got you.” Bending, he kisses my forehead with gentleness that makes me bite my tongue.
I don’t like this…this tightness in my chest. The feeling is an odd one, coiling around my ribs like barbed wire, but beneath that sharp tug is warmth. Almost satisfaction, like the part of me I don’t recognize feels settled with Legend this close.
Legend turns toward the archway and steps forward, carrying me as if I weigh nothing.
“I can walk,” I grumble, even though every inch of me has already relaxed in his hold.
“I know you can, but I’m going to carry you anyway.”
I don’t respond.
Behind him, fire erupts. His brothers and London have joined us, burning ropes curling around their hands, faces carved with murderous intent as they drag the unconscious students aside.
Legend bites into the thick web of flesh between his thumb and pointer finger and smears it across the carved sigil on the door.
The blood of a royal…
The arch glows, flares, and then splits open. A corridor of light yawns wide, ancient and hungry.
I tilt my head over his shoulder just long enough to meet Creed’s stare.
His eyes narrow, following Legend’s every step as he carries me through the Royal Gateway.
Our gazes only break when the portal closes, sealing him on the other side.