Page 28 of Shadows of Change

His arm tightens, and for a moment, his usual playfulness vanishes. "Not happening, Kaia. Because you're not going to crash and burn. You're going to shine so fucking bright you'll put the Light Faction to shame. And we'll be right there with you, every step of the way."

As if to prove his point, he releases me and our little band of misfits materializes around us. Aspen, all grace and careful control. Torric, barely contained power and intensity. Malrik, quiet danger that makes my shadows quiver. And Finn...

Well, Finn is currently trying to juggle fireballs.

"Finn!" I yelp as flame whizzes past my ear. My shadows scatter in all directions, except for Finnick, who seems far too interested in the potential for chaos. "What in the name of all that's unholy are you doing?"

"Livening things up! Come on, Trouble, where's your sense of adventure?"

"Probably hiding with my sense of self-preservation," I mutter, but I'm fighting a smile. The familiar chaos is oddly comforting, even as Bob tries to herd the other shadows away from Finn's impromptu fire show.

That's when everything goes wrong.

17. Kaia

One of Finn's fireballs spirals wild, hurtling straight for Aspen. I react on instinct, shadows erupting from my fingertips in a protective surge. But I've misjudged, overcompensated, and suddenly my power is everywhere, writhing with a life of its own. The air thickens as my shadows burst free, their movement erratic and wild, pulling at the edges of my control. A deep hum vibrates in my chest—a warning or an echo, I can’t tell. Something doesn’t feel right but I can’t stop to think about it. Even Bob loses his usual composure, dissolving into the maelstrom. The shadows writhe and stretch, snaking toward the edges of the arena like living tendrils of ink. I hear startled gasps, the scrape of boots as students step back, but the shadows are too fast, too chaotic. The air is heavy, like trying to breathe through damp wool, and the deep hum in my chest grows louder, more insistent.

"I can't—I can't control it!" The words tear from my throat as Patricia's frantic attempts to catalog the chaos only make it worse. Mouse growls, hackles raised at the surge of power.

And then a figure steps between me and the spreading darkness. His hands move in an intricate pattern, and I feel my magicrespond, settling back into my skin. My shadows retreat reluctantly, though they keep their distance from him—even Bob hanging back with unusual wariness.

"Breathe," he says, voice low and steady. "You're safe."

I stare up at him, heart pounding for reasons that have everything and nothing to do with fear. The way he moves, the quiet confidence in his stance—it's both attractive and slightly unnerving. "Who... who are you?"

His storm-gray eyes lock onto mine, and for a moment, I forget how to breathe. He's devastatingly handsome, with high cheekbones and a jawline that could cut glass. His dark hair falls in artful disarray, as if he just ran his fingers through it, and I have to resist the urge to do the same.

"Darian Luthar," he says, his voice a low, velvety purr that sends shivers down my spine. "I'm new to Arcanum."

I can’t help but notice him—there’s something almost too deliberate in the way he moves, like every step is part of a game I don’t understand. He's tall, easily over six feet, with broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist. His black shirt clings to his muscular frame in all the right places, hinting at the strength beneath. Everything about him screams danger and mystery, from the way he holds himself—coiled tension, like a predator ready to strike—to the knowing smirk playing at the corners of his full lips.

Those lips... I shouldn't be staring at them, but I can't help myself. They look soft, inviting, and I find myself wondering what they'd feel like against mine. Heat floods my cheeks at the thought, and I force my gaze back to his eyes.

Big mistake. His gaze is intense, almost hypnotic, and I feel like I'm drowning in those stormy depths. There's somethingfamiliar about them, something that tugs at the edges of my memory, but I can't quite place it. It's maddening and intoxicating all at once.

"I... um... thanks," I stammer, cursing my sudden inability to form coherent sentences. "For the help, I mean. With the shadows."

Darian's smirk widens into a full-blown smile, and oh gods, it's unfair how attractive it makes him. "Happy to assist," he says, and even his voice is sexy—deep and rich, with a hint of an accent I can't quite place. "You've got quite the power there."

I should be focusing on his words, on the fact that he somehow managed to control my out-of-control shadows when even I couldn't. But all I can think about is the way his presence seems to fill the entire arena, drawing me in like a moth to flame. There's an aura of power around him, dark and alluring. My shadows curl away from him, an unease moving through them that I can’t understand.

"Yeah, well," I manage, trying to summon some of my usual snark, "I like to keep things interesting."

He chuckles, the sound sending warmth pooling in my belly. "I can see that." His gaze sweeps over me, lingering in a way that makes my skin tingle.

He smiles, and it's like watching a storm break. “And you must be the infamous Kaia Draven."

"Infamous?" I manage to squeak, trying to ignore how my shadows seem to be huddling behind me. "I prefer 'misunderstood,' thank you very much."

"My apologies." His laugh does funny things to my insides, even as Mouse's low growl vibrates against my leg. "Allow me torephrase. You're the intriguingly misunderstood Kaia Draven, whose reputation precedes her."

Before I can formulate a response that doesn't make me sound completely brain-dead, Finn materializes at my side. My shadows immediately perk up, Finnick doing what appears to be a victory dance.

"Careful there, new guy." Finn's tone is light, but there's an edge I've never heard before. "Our Kaia's got enough admirers without adding to the fan club."

I elbow him in the ribs, willing my face not to burst into flames. "I am not—that's not—" Patricia seems to be taking detailed notes on my eloquent response while Bob hovers protectively nearby.

"You wound me, Trouble!" Finn clutches his chest. "And here I thought we had something special."

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