Page 67 of Darkbirch Academy

“No.” The word tastes different on my tongue—powerful, certain. “I’m going to my people.”

In a blur of movement, Dayn twists his hands in a complex pattern. The shadows splinter and dissolve as he breaks free. Before I can react, he’s on me, one hand pinning my shoulder to the wall, his face inches from mine.

“Your new abilities are impressive,” he says, his voicedeceptively soft, “but don’t forget whose blood flows through your veins… whose essence fuses with yours.”

My breath hitches at the cadence of his voice, my heartbeat quickening in spite of myself. But then I rally, and slam my palm against his chest, channeling darkblood energy in a concentrated burst. The force throws him back several feet, his boots skidding against stone as he maintains his balance.

“What do you want, a medal?” I ask.

His eyes flash molten gold. “Don’t make me hurt you, Esme.”

“Funny. I was about to say the same thing.”

We circle each other in the narrow corridor, the alarms screaming overhead. Another explosion rocks the building, seemingly closer this time. My people are fighting their way downward.

Dayn moves first, feinting left before striking right. I anticipate the move, ducking under his arm and landing a blow to his ribs. My enhanced strength surprises us both—he actually grunts a little.

“You’re stronger than you should be,” he observes, eyes narrowing.

“Maybe you’re just weaker than you think.”

His smile is all predator. “Let’s test that theory.”

He lunges, faster than human reflexes could track, but my dragon-blood-enhanced senses allow me to sidestep. I grab his outstretched arm, using his momentum to slam him into the wall. Stone cracks under the impact.

Dayn recovers instantly, spinning to catch my wrist. The contact sends a jolt of electricity between us, our mingled blood recognizing its counterpart. For a heartbeat, we freeze, the sensation momentarily overwhelming.

I recover first, twisting free and summoning a wave of shadows that surge toward him like a tide. Dayn counters with a barrier of golden light that turns the shadows to mist on contact.

“Your grandmother didn’t tell you everything,” he says, advancing slowly as the mist dissipates.

I back away, gathering power for another strike. “Spare me the lecture.”

“You’re becoming something new, Esme. Neither purely darkblood nor?—”

A barrage of my shadow projectiles force him to dodge and weave. Right now, I don’t care what I’m becoming as long as I get to my people.They could be dying—this moment—for me.

I lunge forward, feinting to the right before pivoting left toward a side passage. Dayn anticipates my move, materializing in my path with that infuriating speed of his. The corridor behind me offers no escape either—we’re locked in this deadly dance, neither willing to yield.

“There’s no point in running,” he says. “The exits are sealed. Heathborne’s defenses have activated.”

Then I’ll make my own exit.I summon shadow energy to my fingertips, surprised at how easily it flows now, responding to my will with barely a thought. I hurl a concentrated blast at the wall beside me. Stone cracks and splinters, creating a jagged opening into an adjacent corridor. Without hesitation, I dive through, rolling to my feet on the other side.

“Clever,” Dayn mutters, his voice following me.

I sprint down the unfamiliar hallway, my enhanced senses mapping the layout as I go. Darkblood signatures pulse aboveme like beacons, drawing me upward. I need to find a staircase, anything to get me closer to my people.

The corridor splits ahead. I take the right fork, sensing it curves back toward the central part of the building. I race around a corner and find what I’ve been searching for—a narrow staircase leading upward. I take the steps two at a time, the sounds of battle growing louder with each flight of stairs.

I burst through a door onto the next level, only to find my path blocked by a wall of amber light—one of Dayn’s barriers. Before I can find another route, he materializes behind me.

We clash in a blur of movement, light against shadow. I land a solid kick to his abdomen that forces him three steps backward. The building shudders again as another explosion rocks the higher floors. The momentary distraction costs me—Dayn pins me against the wall, his forearm across my throat.

Before he can open his mouth, I headbutt him, the impact sending stars across my vision but forcing him to loosen his hold. I slip free, rolling away and coming up in a crouch.

Dayn wipes a trickle of blood from his lip. “Your grandmother’s using you, Esme. Just like Heathborne used Mazrov.”

His words almost freeze me. “Don’t you dare speak about my grandmother!” I hurl compressed shadow at him like a javelin.

---