Chapter Eight
Tightness clamps around my throat before I can stop it, locking in place as Talen closes the last of the distance, stopping in front of me. Close enough that I catch the warmth of his breath, the scent of smoke and something bittersweet beneath it.
A quicker beat thuds through me. Threads stir, heat rising under my skin like a warning. But neither Quinn nor Ezzy react to what he said. Why? Because they didn’t hear him. It was just for me.
I’ll give it to Ezzy, this sound-warping trick of his is actually really fucking creepy.
“Ah, Officer Veirmont.” Quinn breaks the tension between us.
His voice is bright but stretched thin at the edges.
“How generous of you to join us, giving up your valuable time. I must say, we’re all very excited to have our top senior officer assist with Demonstrations today.
” He smiles tightly while his fingers nervously twitch, smoothing out his messy robe.
I'm glad it’s not just me, the Nightrose seems to rattle everyone around here. But Talen doesn’t look at him, his gaze is all mine, and his voice, when it comes, is like silk soaked in poison.
“Oh, I’m thrilled to be here, Professor. There’s nothing I enjoy more than hands-on work with promising students.”
Merrin’s warning flashes through: no killing outside sanctioned hours. But this is class, this is a Demonstration. Shit, and no one’s allowed to interfere.
My fingers dig into my thigh as I try to steady the pressure building just beneath my skin—magic rising faster now—because Talen’s not just here to teach, he’s here to end me.
This isn’t just a Demonstration, it’s a hunting ground, one the Codex won’t protect me from.
Shit. I have no protection. I’m exposed. I’m screwed.
The air thins. The walls press in.
Okay. Think. I need a plan.
Beside me, Ezzy’s gone completely stiff, eyes wide, breath caught like she’s about to bolt. I grab her arm, holding her steady, holding me steady. The last thing I need right now is him noticing how scared she is. How on edge we both are.
“We’re honoured, really.” I say as I meet his gaze, trying to keep my expression flat, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing what’s under my skin.
“Who better than a Veirmont to teach us how to work the system? Maybe you can also show us how to squeeze gold out of sickness since your family’s so good at making a fortune taxing Spice. ”
Talen doesn’t bite. Just lifts a brow, the left corner of his mouth curling, crooked.
“Funny, you’d think with a name like Bloom, you’d be soft, sweet...” The gold in his hazel eyes glints with quiet amusement. “But you’ve got thorns, don’t you?” A pause. “I like that.”
His grin widens as he sinks a hand into his pocket like he’s got all the time in the world.
Fuck, he’s enjoying this; every word I throw just feeds whatever stupid game he's playing. Magic pricks at my fingertips, I drop them from Ezzy’s arm and curl them into fists.
Get it together, Lyra.
Last time, in the courtyard with him, you nearly blew it, nearly let everything slip. Don’t be that stupid again. Brute force won’t save you, not with him. Be patient and strike smart, not fast. If he catches the scent of weakness, he’ll press until it splits you open.
Quinn clears his throat, his eyes flicking between us like he’s just noticed how tense it’s become, but not sure why. “And, ah. Yes, well, this here is Miss Bloom. Our newest cadet. Word is she has great potential.”
“Oh, we’ve had the pleasure of meeting already.” Talen steps closer as he runs a hand over his jaw. “And I’ve been so looking forward to finishing what we started.”
Don’t react. Don’t give him anything.
But my breath comes too fast, and there’s static crawling under my skin in all the wrong places.
He’s baiting me. Waiting for me to rise to it.
And god help me, part of me wants to. Wants the fight.
But I grit my teeth, dig my nails into my palm harder, do everything I can to hold my Threads back as I force a smile—the polite, hollow kind you give someone at your door when you wish they’d just walk the fuck away.
“Right. Well—” Professor Quinn continues, oblivious to the unspoken knife Talen currently has pressed to my throat. “She also has plenty of ground to catch up on, so I thought maybe, if time allows, you’d consider offering her a bit of one on one guidance, Officer Veirmont?”
Are you fucking kidding me? That’s not a suggestion, it’s a death sentence. One on one? With him? Quinn might as well gift-wrap my corpse now and be done with it. No, absolutely fucking not.
I square my shoulders, lift my chin and keep my hands loose and pretend like I haven’t just been served up on a silver plate to the Nightrose himself. Beautiful. Deadly. Its petals already poised to snap shut the moment I step too close.
“Oh, I’d be more than happy to give her my personal attention...” Talen replies, his gaze dark and hungry. “Some lessons are best learned in a more intimate setting... ”
My heart kicks hard, pounding against my ribs like it’s looking for a way out. I try to keep my face blank, neutral, anything but what’s crawling up through me—but it’s useless now.
Then—movement.
Ezzy shifts beside me, fast, like something just snapped into place. Her fingers clamp around my arm, yanking hard.
“Thank you, Professor Quinn,” she blurts, too fast, too bright. “But, we should really go find our seats. Before class starts.”
Quinn opens his mouth like he means to speak, but she’s already dragging me off.
At first, I resist, because part of me wants to stay, to prove I can hold my ground, that I don’t back down. But my magic jolts again, enough to make my hand twitch.
Fuck, what’s the point of pride if it gets me killed? I just have to get through this class. One lesson. Play smart, not hard. So I let her pull me clear. This isn’t surrender, it’s survival.
Climbing higher, Ezzy keeps moving, row after row of students peeling past us. We reach the back, where Finn and Rowan sit stiff and tense, waiting. They slide over without a word, but both look at me like—what the fuck just happened down there?
Catching my breath, I sink into a space next to them, eyes forward, I don’t look back down. But still, even through the weight of my uniform, I can feel Talen’s gaze burning right through, stripping me bare. Finn follows my line of sight, eyes narrowing as he takes in the way Talen watches me.
“Oh shit, Lyra,” he mutters, cracking a finger. “Honestly, if I didn’t know he was trying to kill you, I’d say he’s trying to fuck you with that look.” He shakes his head, like even he doesn’t want to think too hard about it. “Creepy bastard.”
“Yeah? Well, lucky me.” I reply, jaw tight. “Guess either way I’m screwed.”
Beside him, Rowan chokes on a sound, half gasp, half laugh, lowering his book just enough to glance over, but then a voice rises from the front. Soft, uncertain, but just enough to pull our attention back to the platform.
“Welcome to the first Offensive Magic class of the new semester. I trust you’ve all been practising over the break.” Quinn’s voice floats up from below.
Relax, breathe, I tell myself as I lean back in the seat, but my body won’t let me. Threads still itch, still pushing. Every inhale makes it worse, a deep burn behind my ribs.
The rhythm inside me refuses to settle as I scan the room. No one seems to be listening. Chairs scrape, someone snorts, and low voices ripple like static. Quinn clears his throat and tries again, like his authority alone can control the noise, it doesn’t, cadets just keep talking.
The moment stretches, and I take it, eyes moving across the space, scanning for anything I could use to protect myself from Talen. A shield. A weapon. A way out.
But there’s nothing.
The lecture theatre is stripped bare—a tiered amphitheatre, an old wooden platform at the front lit by tall, arched windows and a scattering of candles that flicker against the grey stone walls.
No props. No barriers. Of course. Why would they need anything else? Not when the weapons here are magic.
Magic, I haven’t trained, haven’t tamed. Magic that’s currently crawling its way up my spine and into my jaw, setting my whole body on edge.
God, I need to know what Talen’s plan is, so holding my breath, trying to steady myself, I risk a glance down towards him. Relief hits hard when I see his gaze is finally off me.
Instead, he’s leaning back against a large chalkboard at the back of the platform, lazy as sin, hypnotically flicking that same gold talisman I saw in the courtyard between his fingers, crooked grin locked in place as he watches Quinn flail, trying to get control of the class.
“Last year, you all had the chance to hone your Threads against the same Realm—” Quinn continues, voice strained, louder this time, but still it doesn’t make a difference, the room continues to ignore him.
Behind him, Talen shifts. The grin is gone now, replaced by something closer to boredom.
Pushing off the chalkboard and slipping the talisman into his pocket, he strolls toward the centre of the platform like he owns it.
Then he leans in to Quinn, mid-sentence, and mutters something low in his ear.
Quinn stops talking and steps aside, not that anyone seems to notice.
I doubt they even realise he was speaking in the first place.
The room’s still alive with low voices—half-whispers, half-laughs—as Talen steps into the centre of the platform. His gaze sweeps the crowd as he lifts one hand, palm up.
For a second he holds it there, fingers loose like he’s waiting for something, letting the noise stretch just a heartbeat longer. Then, without warning, his fingers snap shut.
And the noise stops. Just—stops.
Silence crashes down, absolute and unnatural. The only thing I can hear is my heartbeat, currently hammering way too fucking hard in my ears. Around me other cadets glance at each other, wide-eyed, mouths part but nothing comes out.