Chapter 7 #2
She reaches for the Compendium with predatory certainty. “I think the Hunters would be very interested in—”
She never finishes her sentence. A deeper patch of darkness detaches from the shadows behind her, and suddenly Bael is there, his presence filling the space like a storm front. His hand closes gently but firmly around Elara’s wrist, and I can see the way her light dims slightly at the contact.
“I believe the library is closing, Miss Lightbringer,” he says, his deep voice deceptively calm despite the danger radiating from him like heat from a forge. “Curfew approaches.”
Elara yanks her hand away, her face flushing with anger and something else—fear. Up close, I can see the way her pupils dilate when she looks at him. “You,” she hisses. “The fallen guardian. I should have known you’d be involved.”
Bael smiles, a predator’s smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and shows just a hint of fang. “Just ensuring academy rules are followed. The restricted texts must remain in the library.”
“This isn’t over,” Elara says, gaze switching between us with the intensity of someone memorizing details for a report. “Your shadows betray you, Ashley Dawn. And I will discover what you’re hiding.”
She stalks away, light aura flaring dramatically before she disappears down the stairs, her footsteps echoing with finality.
The moment she’s gone, Bael turns to me, face tight with controlled anger that makes the air around him crackle with tension. “What part of ‘maintain a low profile’ was unclear to you?”
“I needed information,” I defend, though my voice trembles slightly from the adrenaline crash. “About what I am, about the crimson wings. About this harbinger prophecy.”
He glances at the open Compendium, something flashing in his green eyes that might be fear. With swift efficiency, he gathers the books scattered across the table, his movements precise and economical.
“These texts are restricted for a reason,” he says. “Knowledge is dangerous when you don’t have the context to understand it.”
“Then give me the fucking context,” I challenge, standing to face him despite the way his proximity makes my pulse skip. “You keep telling me what to hide, but not why. I deserve to know what’s happening to me.”
For a moment, I think he’ll shut me down again with another cryptic non-answer. Instead, he sighs, shadows curling around him like a restless cloak.
“Not here,” he says finally. “Elara will return with reinforcements, likely including Hunters. We need to leave.”
I quickly pack my notes into my bag while Bael returns the books to their proper places with surprising speed and silence. As we head for the exit, I glance back at the Compendium, still open to the crimson-winged figure that looks so much like me it’s unsettling.
“I need that book,” I say suddenly, turning back before I can think better of it.
“Ash, there’s no time—”
But I’m already moving, my shadows extending to grab the ancient tome and slide it into my bag before Bael can stop me. The book is heavier than it looks, and I can feel its weight like a physical reminder of how badly I’m about to fuck up my life.
“Are you insane?” he hisses. “Stealing restricted texts is grounds for expulsion—or worse, when Hunters are involved.”
“I’ll return it,” I promise, though we both know I’m lying. “But I need more time with it. I need answers.”
He looks like he wants to argue but grabs my arm, his touch sending electricity up my spine. He pulls me toward a section of shadow-drenched shelving where the darkness seems thicker, more substantial.
“We need to shadow-walk. Now.”
“I don’t know how yet,” I remind him, panic making my voice higher than usual.
“Trust me,” he says, his shadows suddenly expanding to surround us both like a living cocoon. They merge with mine, creating a sensation that’s both intimate and disorienting—like our essences are temporarily blending together, becoming one unified darkness.
The physical contact of his hand on my arm combined with the shadow merger sends electricity coursing through me, making every nerve ending sing with awareness.
His eyes lock with mine, and for a brief moment, everything else fades away—the danger, the stolen book, Elara’s accusations.
There’s only Bael, his shadows intertwined with mine, creating a connection that feels ancient and inevitable and right in a way that terrifies me.
Then the world dissolves around us, and we’re falling through darkness that feels like coming home. His arms wrap around me to keep me steady as we travel through the shadow realm, and I can smell his scent—dark and masculine and utterly addictive.
We emerge in the Shadow Archive, where he first showed me how to release my wings.
I stumble slightly, disoriented from my first shadow-walk experience that left me feeling like I’ve been turned inside out, and his hands steady me.
They linger perhaps a moment longer than necessary, his fingers warm against my arms.
“That was...” I search for words to describe the sensation of traveling through pure darkness while wrapped in his arms.
“Disorienting the first time,” he finishes, stepping back, though our shadows remain connected, reluctant to separate like lovers being torn apart. “You’ll get used to it.”
I set my bag down, the weight of the stolen Compendium a reminder of how badly I’ve just escalated my situation. “She knows, doesn’t she? Elara suspects what I am.”
“She suspects, but doesn’t know for certain.” Bael moves to the window, looking out at the rain-drenched academy grounds where lightning occasionally illuminates the gargoyles perched on every surface. “But she will report her suspicions to both the light faction elders and the Hunters.”
“What do we do?” I ask, fear finally catching up to me now that the adrenaline is fading and leaving me shaky.
He turns back to me, his expression unreadable in the dim light cast by the painted stars overhead. “We speed up your training. And I tell you what you need to know about the crimson ascendant prophecy—before someone else does.”
My shadows stir excitedly at his words, reaching toward him as if eager for the knowledge he possesses. His own shadows respond, extending to meet mine halfway, creating a bridge of darkness between us that feels like a promise.
“Start with why Elara called you ‘the fallen guardian,’“ I say, watching our shadows dance together in the space between us. “And then tell me everything about these crimson wings and what they mean.”
As the rain pounds against the windows and thunder rumbles overhead like the academy itself is angry, Bael nods slowly, his shadows fully merging with mine in a gesture that feels like a vow sealed in darkness.
"It begins with the original Fall," he says, "and a prophecy that both light and shadow have feared since the beginning of our kind."