Page 64 of Shadows of Change

The night isn't over. Questions still buzz under my skin, and my necklace still pulses around my neck.

But for now, surrounded by people who apparently "give a damn" whether I want them to or not, I let myself breathe.

Tomorrow will bring answers. Or at least better questions.

41. Kaia

The air carries a bitter chill, but I barely notice as I pace the length of my room. My shadows trail after me restlessly, their agitation matching the storm in my head. Mouse watches from my bed, his violet eyes tracking every movement, still tense from earlier. I needed some time to clear my head but I honestly think I’m just making it worse at this point. Like talking myself off a ledge that’s five miles down the road.

"He was right there," I mutter, running my fingers over my necklace. It hums against my throat, warmer than usual after tonight's chaos. "Thorne was pulling some shit all along, and I never really saw it."

I’m so stupid.

A soft knock interrupts my brooding and self loathing. Before I can decide whether to ignore it, Finn's voice filters through the door.

"I come bearing peace offerings. And snacks. Mostly snacks."

My shadows ripple toward the door eagerly, still keyed up from the chaos of the ball and Thorne’s betrayal. Even Mouse perks up, though he seems more alert than usual.

"Go away, Finn."

"See, I would, but Bob's already letting me in."

Sure enough, he’s slipped under the door and is now tugging at the handle from the other side. I throw my hands up in exasperation as the door swings open.

Finn stands there grinning, arms full of what looks like half the kitchen's worth of food. His easy demeanor, complete with that familiar sparkle of mischief in his eyes, is at odds with the faint bruise darkening his jaw—a mark from tonight's chaos. It’s as though he’s determined to brush off the tension with charm and a tray of sugar. "I figured we could all use a midnight feast after... you know, the whole 'evil professor' thing."

"We?" I ask, just as more footsteps echo down the hall.

Aspen appears first, carrying drinks and wearing an expression that manages to be both apologetic and determined. His water rune still shimmers faintly from earlier. Torric follows, his fire rune flickering with residual energy, and finally, Malrik materializes from the shadows themselves, because apparently near-death experiences haven't taught him to use doors like a normal person.

"No," I say firmly. "Absolutely not. I don't need an intervention."

"Good, because this isn't one," Finn says cheerfully, already spreading snacks across my desk. "This is just friends making sure you don't brood yourself into oblivion. While eating sugar."

"You're not going to let this go, are you?"

"Nope!" He pops the 'p' sound, tossing me a package of my favorite cookies. "Besides, your shadows are already setting up a snack fort."

He's right. My traitorous shadows are arranging cushions in a loose circle, creating a cozy gathering space. Even Finnick is helping, though he seems to be mostly stealing cookies.

"Fine," I sigh, dropping onto a cushion. "Start talking."

42. Kaia

The others settle in, forming a careful semicircle. Aspen’s expression is a blend of quiet determination and unease, his shoulders tense as he sets the drinks down. Torric’s brows are furrowed, and his fire rune flickers faintly like it’s mirroring his agitation. Malrik’s silver eyes remain unreadable, but his deliberate movements and the way he takes a seat with precision suggest he’s bracing for something. Even Finn, usually relaxed, settles in with a slight edge to his grin, his hands quick as he passes out snacks, like he’s trying to fill the silence. Close enough to talk, but giving me space.

"We should have told you sooner," Aspen says quietly, breaking the tension. "About our suspicions."

"You think?" The words come out sharper than I intend, but I can't quite help it. "How long have you all been... what? Coordinating? Spying?"

"Since the training accident," Torric admits, his rune flickering faintly. "When Darian conveniently showed up and was suddenly inserted into your life."

"He was helping me," I protest, but it sounds weak even to my ears.

"Was he?" Malrik's voice is soft but intent. "Or was he studying you?"

I open my mouth to argue, then close it as memories surface. The way Darian always seemed to know when my shadows were acting up. His carefully worded questions about their behavior. The calculating look in his eyes when he thought I wasn't watching.

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