Chapter 37
brYNN
We've landed on the outer eastern edge of Darkbirch’s forest, the familiar silhouette of the academy just visible through the trees. The shimmering barrier that now protects our territory glints faintly in the distance.
“Not quite home yet,” Nyssa mutters.
She, Rogon and Byzu have already morphed back into their human forms and got themselves decent. Or mostly decent, in Byzu’s case. He’s decided not to put his shirt back on, for some unfathomable reason.
Byzu rolls his shoulders, the muscles of his back rippling. “Gods I’m hot. Think I’m coming down with a fever.”
I snort. “That’s not a fever. Just your narcissism generating excess heat.”
Byzu stops, his dark hair catching the moonlight as he turns toward me. “My narcissism?” he repeats. “And here I was expecting concern for a sick man.”
“You’re not sick. You’re just shirtless. Put it back on or you’ll upset the local wildlife.”
“Enough,” Rogon interrupts, his eyes sharp and focused on the shimmering dome ahead. “Save the mating rituals for when we aren't fugitives. We have a barrier to cross, if we’re really going through with this hare-brained scheme.”
“Hardly my fault she can’t stop looking,” Byzu mutters, though he does finally tug his shirt on.
I draw in a deep breath, willing for calm.
Truth is, I’m not entirely confident about this plan.
But based on how Nyssa was last treated at Darkbirch, I figure they’re safest making Darkbirch their base at the moment.
Even if they’re locked in rooms, at least their lives won’t be at risk—unlike outside, where an unhinged dragon king will be hunting them, along with any equally deranged clearbloods who happen to cross their path.
And yeah, I have nowhere near forgotten about my mission to find Chad. That’s still top priority. The dragons just need a little recouperation first.
We move quietly through the trees, keeping to the shadows. After I manage to escort my companions through the barrier, I hear the cracking of twigs coming from the darkness to our left, and I stop.
A cluster of figures emerges from the trees: six darkbloods, their faces familiar yet somehow altered.
They're all wearing Darkbirch uniforms, first-year students, but something about their posture is wrong.
Somehow too stiff and too jerky at the same time.
My colleagues—Olivia, Aaron, Petra, and others—all moving with an eerie similarity that makes my skin crawl.
“Brynn Salem,” Olivia says, and it's not quite her voice. It sounds layered, deeper. “You've returned!”
I step forward, instinctively positioning myself between them and the dragons. “Yeah. Just bringing some guests.”
Their eyes—all of them—flicker with that telltale shadow. The Ides have taken control of them.
So much for Burr’s new training course? Clearly I’m not the only one struggling.
“Dragons,” Aaron murmurs. “You bring more dragons to our sanctuary?”
“What’s the problem? They’re friends.”
The six of them spread out, forming a loose semicircle around us. I feel Nyssa tense behind me, her body temperature rising slightly in preparation.
“Step aside, Brynn Salem,” Petra says, her normally quiet voice now carrying a strange edge. “The new arrivals must be properly contained!”
“What is your actual problem?” I snap. “They’re not going anywhere or causing any trouble. They’re just here for safety. You step aside. Or take me to Dominic. He didn’t object to me taking Nyssa out of confine—”
Something cold suddenly shifts inside my skull—like ice cracking in a thaw. The Ide I've been keeping locked away suddenly pounds against the door of my mental library again, the pressure building behind my eyes. I gasp, pressing my palm against my temple.
“You okay?” Rogon murmurs.
I can’t respond, too focused on keeping the parasite contained. The Ide is pushing harder now, as if sensing its kin nearby. Like it wants out, wants to join the others.
Olivia tilts her head, studying me with unnervingly ancient-looking eyes. “Which brings us to the topic of you, Brynn Salem,” she says. “Your Ide has been struggling. You're restraining it!”
“That’s what you’re supposed to be doing, too, Olivia,” I pant. “Try to remember. Take back your autonomy!”
“Autonomy,” Aaron scoffs. “Such a human concept. The Ide is not your enemy, Brynn Salem. It’s your salvation.”
“Our salvation!” the others echo in disturbing unison.
I feel sweat beading on my forehead as I fight to keep the mental door closed. The Ide is scratching harder, its hunger to join the others almost overwhelming.
“The new arrivals,” Olivia continues, my words clearly not hitting deep enough, “will be secured in the guest wing. They won’t be harmed if they cooperate. They must prove themselves trustworthy!”
“I’ve already proved myself trustworthy,” Byzu says, his voice a low growl. “Seems you just weren’t around to see it.”
“And you, Brynn,” Petra continues, ignoring Byzu. Her smile is gentle but her eyes are strangely cold. “Your resistance to your Ide is concerning. Definitely unhealthy. It creates instability in the collective.”
“The collective?” I repeat. “That's what this is now?”
“We are many,” she responds. “And we are one.”
Oh, that's not creepy at all.
“The dragons stay with me until I’ve spoken to Dominic,” I state firmly, even as my head pounds with the effort of containing my Ide. “They're under my protection.”
“Protection?” Aaron laughs, the sound hollow and wrong. “You can barely protect yourself from your own Ide, little Salem.”
He's right. The pressure is building, threatening to split my skull. I can feel it—ancient and hungry—pushing against my consciousness, trying to rise to the surface.
“Submit,” Olivia whispers, stepping closer. “Let it in, Brynn. It's so much easier when you stop fighting!”
“The therapy will help,” Petra adds. “A simple procedure. We've established a chamber in the crypts. There’s a method that can be used to help... encourage integration.”
The way she says “encourage” makes my blood run cold.
And the crypts? Gods, it sounds like things are getting out of control around here.
Where are the elders, keeping these wildlings in check?
It’s to be expected that the younger students would have a tougher time keeping control of such ancient, unhinged power. But we need a better monitoring system!
“No thanks,” I manage through gritted teeth. “My brain’s mine and mine alone. As yours should be.”
“It's not optional,” Aaron says, his voice suddenly hardening. “You’re far too stubborn for your own good, and the good of your Ide. You will submit to the procedure. Tonight.”
To my alarm, they begin to close in, their movements fluid and coordinated.
“What the hell, you punks—”
Before I can even finish my sentence, they suddenly move with unnatural speed, like they're not even human anymore.
One second they're a few feet away, the next they've grabbed both my arms, fingers digging in with bruising force.
I gasp, struggling against their grip, but it's like fighting against stone.
“Let go of me!” I shout, thrashing against their hold.
Nyssa lunges forward, but Aaron waves his free hand and a barrier of shimmering black energy springs up between us, cutting the dragons off.
No.
“Brynn!” she yells, her voice muffled by the spiritual shield.
“This is for your own good,” Olivia chimes in my ear, her breath unnaturally cold against my skin. “You'll understand once it's done!”
They begin dragging me backward, their expressions almost gleeful, toward the academy. My heels dig into the dirt, but it does nothing to slow our progress. The Ide inside my head pounds harder, as if excited by the proximity of its kin, sensing freedom approaching. You sick bastard.
“You can't do this!” I shout, still fighting. “I'm a Salem! My mother will—”
“Your mom has already embraced her Ide,” Petra says. “She understands the necessity.”
My blood runs cold. Mom too? No, I don’t believe it. Everyone can’t have just given into this madness, given up fighting.
Suddenly, a deafening roar splits the air. Not draconic, something else. Something primal and furious. The students freeze, their heads snapping toward the sound.
A massive shape bursts from the tree line, moving so fast it's almost a blur. I catch only impressions—dark skin, gleaming claws, burning eyes. The figure collides with Aaron and Petra, sending them flying backward into the trees with bone-crushing force.
“Chad?” I gasp, instantly recognizing him despite his transformed state.
He's fully in demon form—even larger than I seem to remember, horns curving from his forehead, skin dark with a thick, ridged texture, his entire body rippling with inhuman strength.
His eyes find mine, glowing with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
Behind him stands an even more terrifying figure—towering, with massive horns and eyes like twin furnaces.
“Get away from her,” Chad snarls, his voice barely human.
Olivia tightens her grip on my arm. “This does not concern you, demon!”
He moves again, impossibly fast, his clawed hand closing around Olivia's throat. She releases me, gasping, as Chad lifts her from the ground. The other students rush him, but the towering figure behind him swiftly intercepts them, swatting them aside.
“Chad!” I stumble forward as soon as I'm free, my legs barely supporting me.
He drops Olivia like she’s a piece of trash, her body thudding into the dirt as he whirls to face me.
The air around him feels thick and heavy.
His eyes—those burning, molten pits—lock onto mine, and for a second, I feel the sheer, terrifying weight of his focus.
It even makes the Ide in my head stop scratching for a beat.
“Chad?” I breathe, taking a tentative step forward.
He flinches as if I’ve struck him, then practically lunges away, his massive feet carving deep furrows in the loam. His chest is heaving, every muscle in his towering frame corded with tension.