Page 75 of Shadows of Change

"That's fascinating," Finn says, his voice deceptively light. "Really. But you'll forgive us if we're a bit skeptical about your sudden desire to share all this information." His free hand absently strokes Bob's tendrils, earning a shadow-purr. "Especially given recent events."

Darian's perfect composure cracks, just for a second. Something like real pain flashes across his face. "I know I have no right to ask for your trust," he says softly. "But Kaia... there are things coming. Things that—"

He's cut off by a sudden commotion near the main hall. Students pour out of the doors, chattering excitedly about dinner. The moment breaks, reality rushing back in.

"We should go," I say firmly, though my mind is racing with questions. "Thanks for the history lesson."

As Finn steers me away, I glance back once. Darian stands alone in the growing darkness, his shadows writhing beneath his shirt like restless snakes. For a moment, he looks lost, almost vulnerable. Then his mask slips back into place, and he turns sharply on his heel, striding away.

"Well, that was interesting," Finn murmurs as we head toward the dining hall. "Bob's been trying to tell me something about him for weeks, you know."

I lean into his warmth, grateful for his steady presence. "Yeah? What's Bob's theory?"

"That there's more to this than just Darian being an ass." Finn's voice grows serious. "Your shadows... they don't hate him, exactly. They pity him. And that worries me more than anything else."

My shadows ripple faintly, their movements softer now, less defensive. One of them brushes against Darian’s retreating figure before curling back to me like an apology. I don’t know what they’re trying to tell me, but the ache in my chest deepens.

My necklace pulses once, strong and clear, as if in agreement. I wrap my arms around Finn before I can stop myself. I’m suddenly cold despite the lingering warmth of the day.

"Come on," Finn says, his usual cheeky grin returning. "Let's get some food. I hear they're serving those pastries you like—you know, the ones Finnick keeps trying to steal?"

That gets a laugh out of me before I can stop it.

50. Kaia

The training arena pulses with magical energy, a thrumming current that crackles in the air and makes my shadows twitch restlessly at my feet. It feels alive, charged with a tension that hums through my veins and sets my nerves on edge. Seren's presence beside me is a welcome anchor, her lavender hair catching the light from the enchanted sconces above.

"Your fan club's getting bigger," she murmurs, nudging me with her elbow. "Even Malrik's lurking closer than usual today."

Heat creeps up my neck as I follow her gaze. She's right—they're all here. Torric and Aspen stand near the weapon racks, heads bent in conversation. Finn lounges against a pillar, his usual grin in place as he juggles small orbs of chaos magic. And Malrik... Malrik watches from the shadows, his silver eyes catching mine for just a moment before sliding away.

"They're not my fan club," I mutter, but my shadows betray me, curling almost happily at the sight of them.

"Sure, sure." Seren's knowing smirk is insufferable. "And I'm the Queen of Light."

Before I can retort, Professor Thorne sweeps into the arena, his dark robes billowing dramatically. An immediate hush falls over the room, accompanied by a chill that makes my skin prickle.

"Today's exercise," he announces, his voice like silk over steel, "will test your adaptability. You'll rotate partners every fifteen minutes. The goal is simple: survive."

My stomach drops at his tone. Beside me, Seren whispers, "Well, that's not ominous at all."

"First pairing," Thorne continues, his violet-flecked eyes finding mine with unsettling precision. "Kaia Draven and Torric Agere."

Torric's grin is immediate and predatory as he pushes off from the weapon rack. Even from here, I can see the fire rune on his chest beginning to glow beneath his shirt.

"Try not to swoon," Seren whispers, giving me a gentle shove forward. "Though I wouldn't blame you if you did."

"I don't swoon," I hiss back, but my heart's already racing as Torric approaches, all six-foot-five of him radiating dangerous charm.

"Ready to dance, Sunshine?" he asks, golden eyes gleaming with challenge.

I force my expression into something resembling confidence. "Only if you can keep up, flame boy."

The smirk on his lips is the only warning I get.

The first clash of our magic sends sparks flying—literally. Torric's flames dance and weave around my shadows, their fiery arcs casting sharp contrasts against the twisting tendrils of darkness. Each collision sparks with energy, sending shimmering embers and faint wisps of smoke curling into theair. The heat brushes against my skin, a stark counterpoint to the cool, fluid movements of my shadows as they push back, neither side willing to yield. We move in a deadly dance, testing defenses, looking for openings.

"Your form's improved," he notes, sending another burst of flame my way. "But your stance is still off."

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