Shadows Found (Arcanum Academy #3)

Chapter 1

Kaia

“Hello again, Little Shadow.”

The voice curls through the space between sleep and waking—soft, familiar, wrong.

Cold ground beneath me. Firelight somewhere close, embers crackling low. My pulse slams against my ribs.

Pressure blooms sharp against my chest.

The bond.

But it feels wrong. Tainted at the edges. Right at the core but twisted somehow.

Fuck.

My eyes snap open.

A figure stands over my bedroll, backlit by moonlight filtering through trees. Tall. Still. Close enough I should’ve heard him, felt him, something.

Recognition hits like a fist to the sternum.

Darian.

My breath catches. Every instinct screams move—but the bond presses harder, pinning me in place like a hand over my heart. Reminding me it’s still there. Still tethered. Still his.

I hate it.

Bob surges between us, edges sharp as broken glass. Mouse materializes at my side, ears flat, violet eyes burning. His growl rolls low and lethal through the dark.

I force myself to look at Darian properly.

He’s a wreck. Unshaven, dirt streaked across his jaw. Hair falling loose from its usual perfect style. His uniform—if you can even call it that—is torn at the shoulder, stained dark near the hem. He looks like he’s been walking for days.

But his posture doesn’t waver. Hands hang loose at his sides. Empty.

His eyes—storm gray, shadowed—hold mine without flinching.

A memory flashes. The arena. His smile turning cruel. You weren’t teaching me. You were studying us.

Every training session replays in sickening clarity. The way he pushed me to show him every defensive pattern. Every instinct. Every vulnerable truth about my shadows.

So he could use them against me.

Bob shifts closer, bristling. Mouse’s growl deepens.

Darian’s gaze flickers to the shadows, then back to me.

He doesn’t speak.

The silence stretches. Suffocating.

“What are you doing here?” My voice comes out rough—sleep and adrenaline shredding it.

He exhales slow, like he’s been holding his breath.

Then he drops to his knees.

Not a stumble. Not a collapse.

Deliberate. Controlled. Like he’s choosing it.

Patricia flickers into view, notebook blazing—then glitches, a blot of ink spreading where no ink should be. Carl appears near my ankle, vibrating too fast, like he’s picking up signals no one else feels.

Mouse’s ears flatten further. His growl wavers.

“Kaia.” Darian’s voice is quiet. Steady. Nothing like the cold precision I remember. “I came because I needed you to hear this. From me.”

A flicker crosses his expression—pain? Confusion? Like something inside him pulls the wrong direction.

I should tell him to leave. Wake the others. Let my shadows tear him apart for daring to kneel like that means something.

But I don’t.

The bond hums low in my chest. Quiet. Constant. Wrong but real. Inescapable.

“I know what I did in the arena.” He doesn’t look away. Doesn’t soften it. “Every choice. I told myself I was protecting academy, the balance—whatever let me sleep at night.” His jaw tightens. “But I wasn’t protecting anything. I was protecting myself. From you. From what you made me feel.”

The words land wrong. Too honest. Too raw.

I want to interrupt—to tell him I don’t care—but something in his voice roots me.

“You deserved someone who stood beside you,” he continues.

His hands rest open on his thighs like an offering.

“Not someone who studied your shadows like they were a problem to solve instead of—” He stops.

Swallows. “Instead of seeing them. Extensions of you. Proof you’re stronger than any of us gave you credit for. ”

My throat tightens. I press my palm flat against the ground. Dirt and grass, rough under my fingers.

Bob’s edges soften slightly. Carl drifts closer to Darian—curious now, not defensive.

Walter drifts into view, bobbing lazily. He hovers closer to Darian, pulsing once—bright—like he’s tasting something in the air. Then he drifts to my chest, pulses again. Back to Darian.

“I’m not asking for forgiveness.” Darian’s voice drops lower. Almost too quiet. “I needed to tell the truth. And to kneel here—” A ghost of bitter humor crosses his face. “Without running from it.”

“Get up.”

The words slip out sharp. Defensive.

He doesn’t move.

“Get up, Darian.”

“If I stand too soon,” he says quietly, “it looks like I came here to win. Like this is strategy.” His gaze holds mine. Unflinching. “I didn’t. I came to own it. Every lie. Every betrayal. Every moment I made you doubt yourself.” He pauses. “So I’ll stay here until you tell me what comes next.”

My chest aches. The bond pulses once—faint, echoing his honesty but wrong at the edges—and I fight the pull.

Steve materializes suddenly, thrusting a scroll at Patricia. She takes it without looking away from Darian.

I open my mouth to respond—

Steel flashes in moonlight.

A blade appears at Darian’s throat. Cold. Precise.

Aspen steps from the shadows behind him, silent as death. Ice-blue eyes blazing with controlled fury. The blade doesn’t waver. Neither does his voice.

“Move, and I’ll open your throat before you take your next breath.”

Panic hits—not for him. For what killing him would do to us. To the bonds already stretched thin.

Bob positions himself beside Aspen, backing the threat.

Darian doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t look at the blade. His eyes stay locked on mine. Calm. Resigned.

Like he expected this.

“Aspen—” My voice cracks.

“Don’t.” Aspen’s tone is ice. Absolute. “Don’t defend him, Kaia.”

Mouse flicks his tail once—Aspen’s grip on the blade tightens, but he doesn’t move.

“I’m not—” I scramble to my feet. Carl darts anxiously around my ankles. “I’m not defending him. I just—”

Noise erupts beyond the firelight. Footsteps. Voices. The camp waking in shouted questions and chaos.

Torric arrives first, shirtless and radiating heat. Golden eyes locked on Darian with murderous intent. Finn’s right behind him, chaos magic sparking at his fingertips. His usual grin replaced by something sharp. Deadly.

Malrik steps from the tree line. Silver eyes cold. Shadows coiling at his feet like waiting serpents.

And Kieran.

He moves through them with quiet authority. Never needs to raise his voice. His golden eyes sweep the scene—Darian kneeling, Aspen’s blade at his throat, me frozen between them.

His expression hardens into something unreadable.

Finnick somersaults through the air, landing with dramatic flair before mimicking Darian’s kneeling position. Bob appears behind him, yanking him upright by the scruff.

“Report.” Kieran’s single word carries weight.

Aspen doesn’t look away from Darian. “Found him kneeling over Kaia.”

Torric snarls. Fire licks up his forearms. “I’ll burn him where he—”

“Don’t kill him.”

The words tumble out before I can stop them. Loud. Desperate.

Everyone stares.

Finnick stops mid-mockery. Goes still.

Finn recovers first, voice tight with disbelief. “You’re joking.”

“I’m not.” My hands shake. I clench them into fists. “Just—don’t.”

Kieran’s gaze shifts to me. Searching. “Kaia—”

“I know what he did.” My voice trembles but I don’t take it back. “I know. But killing him won’t—” I stop. Swallow hard. “It won’t change anything.”

The silence feels suffocating.

Malrik steps closer, voice low and dangerous. “He betrayed you. Studied your shadows so he could destroy you.”

“I know.” The bond flares hot against my ribs—wrong, tainted, but still there. I press my hand over my heart like I can smother it. “I know.”

Linda appears at my shoulder, already trying to organize the chaos. Patricia’s notebook glows brighter—this is going in the report.

Darian’s eyes haven’t left mine. No pleading. No desperation.

Just quiet acceptance and something that looks dangerously close to regret.

Kieran exhales slowly. The sound carries centuries of weariness. “Bind him. North edge of camp. We’ll deal with this at first light.”

His tone leaves no room for argument.

Not execution.

Interrogation.

Torric moves forward, grabbing Darian by the arm with barely restrained violence. Darian doesn’t resist. Doesn’t fight. He lets Torric haul him to his feet, Aspen’s blade still pressed to his throat until the last possible second.

As they drag him away, Darian’s voice cuts through the tension. Quiet but clear.

“I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

Finn mutters, standing close—“Either brave or staggeringly stupid.”

“Both,” Malrik says from my other side.

We watch Torric and Aspen drag Darian away, and I’m not sure how I feel watching him go without a fight.

No one speaks.

Bob positions himself at my feet, shaking what might be a finger at me. Possibly just vibrating with disapproval.

I want to explain. To justify. To make them understand something I don’t even understand myself.

But the words won’t come.

Malrik looks at both of us—something knowing in his expression—then steps away into the shadows.

“Get some rest,” Kieran says quietly. Voice gentler now. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

They leave one by one, until it’s just me and Finn and the dying embers.

Mouse materializes beside me. Solid. Warm.

Finn lingers near the bedroll, hands shoved in his pockets. Doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask questions I can’t answer.

“Stay?” I ask quietly, looking at him.

His expression softens. “Yeah, Trouble. I’ll stay.”

“I didn’t forgive him,” I say quietly. “I just didn’t let them kill him.”

He’s quiet for a moment. “What’s the difference?”

I don’t have an answer.

He nods. Like he expected that.

“There’s room,” I whisper.

He hesitates—just for a breath—then lies down beside me.

“Thank you. For staying.”

“Always, Trouble.”

I reach back, finding his hand. Pulling his arm around my waist. He goes rigid, then slowly relaxes. His warmth settles against my back.

The bond I never chose sits deep in my chest. A bond I wish I didn’t feel. A connection that should have been beautiful but was stolen from me.

Darian Luthar just knelt at my feet and confessed his sins.

And I stopped them from killing him.

I press my palm over my heart and try to name what I feel.

I can’t.