Page 38 of Shadows of Change

"Relax," he murmurs, his hands settling on my arms. "You're holding too much tension. Your shadows feel that—they'll reflect it back at you."

It's impossible to relax with him this close, but I try anyway, letting my shoulders drop. His breath stirs the hair at my neck, and my shadows ripple uneasily.

"Better," he says, his voice softening. His hands trail down my arms, barely skimming the surface. "Now, stop trying to controlthem. Shadows don't like being forced—they want to move with you, not for you. Let them show you what they want."

I close my eyes and take a slow breath. For once, I let go of the tight grip I've been keeping on my power. To my surprise, my shadows respond, pulling together into the barrier I've been struggling to form all morning. It's simple but steady.

"See?" Darian says, his hands sliding back to my shoulders. "You're stronger than you think."

Mouse growls softly from his perch, but the sound is lost under Darian's next words.

"You're too focused on getting it perfect," he murmurs against my ear. "Perfection isn't the goal. Feeling is."

My shadows pull away from him sharply, but I pay them no mind, too caught up in the moment. His hands skim down my arms again, lingering at my wrists.

"Let's try it again," he says, pressing closer. "This time, don't overthink. Trust yourself."

The barrier begins to take shape, but every brush of his fingers sends another shiver through me. My shadows writhe uneasily, trying to put space between us.

"Good," he whispers. His thumbs brush the insides of my wrists. "You're getting it."

"Darian—" My voice comes out breathless, uncertain.

"Hmm?" His hum vibrates against me, his lips grazing my neck, and the barrier collapses completely.

"Touching display."

Malrik's voice cuts through the room like winter wind. My shadows scatter as I spin toward the door, where he leansagainst the frame with deceptive casualness. His silver eyes are sharp, taking in every detail of the scene.

"We have the room reserved," Darian says pleasantly, though something darker edges his tone. "For training."

"Is that what you're calling it?" Malrik steps forward with liquid grace, power rolling off him in waves. "Fascinating technique."

Heat floods my face. "It's not—we weren't—"

"Working on control," Darian finishes smoothly, his hand returning to the small of my back like a brand. "Something you might consider studying yourself, Duskbane."

Malrik's eyes narrow dangerously, and the shadows in the corners of the room seem to deepen.

Before either can escalate, Finn bursts in with his usual chaotic energy, though his smile feels forced.

"Kaia! There you are! I've been looking everywhere—" He stops short, his grin faltering as he reads the room. "Oh. Sorry. Didn't realize you were... busy."

"We're not," I say quickly, stepping away from Darian. My shadows dart toward Finn like they're seeking refuge, brushing his boots before curling back around my feet.

"Actually," Darian catches my wrist, his grip light but insistent, "we should run through that one more time. Professor Thorne wants to see improvement by tomorrow's class."

He's not wrong—Thorne has been watching me like a hawk lately, his dark eyes always weighing and measuring. But something in Malrik and Finn's matched stares makes my skin crawl.

"I can help with that," Malrik says, his voice deceptively soft. "Since you seem so concerned with her progress."

Darian's smile doesn't waver, but tension radiates from him. "That's kind of you. But Professor Thorne assigned me as her partner for a reason."

"Did he?" Finn sprawls into a nearby chair with calculated carelessness. "And what reason would that be?"

The air thickens with power as Mouse bristles on his shelf, violet eyes fixed on Darian.

"I should go," I snap, yanking my wrist free. "It's almost dinner anyway."

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