Page 28 of Heir of Shadows

My jaw tightened. “I can’t believe I fell for it. I thought I was getting better at seeing through lies, but he was so convincing. How am I supposed to trust anything I see anymore?” My voice came out sharper than I’d intended.

Keane glanced up, his usually cool expression softening just enough to surprise me.

“Elio’s good at what he does,” he said, not missing a beat. He knew exactly who I meant. “But even the best illusions have cracks. You did see through it. And now you know to be more careful.”

“I thought I was.” I exhaled, pressing my fingers to my temples. “He could’ve kept me fooled for hours. How many times has he done this before? What if I don’t catch it next time?”

Keane studied me for a long moment, then, unexpectedly, a small portal appeared beside my hand, its edges flickering slightly before steadying.

“Tea,” he said quietly… “It helps. With all of…” He gestured vaguely. “This.”

I took a careful sip, focusing on the familiar taste rather than the way his hands still trembled slightly. “This is… just chamomile?”

“Not everything magical requires actual magic,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching in what might have been a smile. “Sometimes the mundane solutions work better.”

I focused on the warmth of the tea, grounding myself. I had almost been tricked, yes—but I had seen through it in the end. That counted for something.

Through the open window, I could hear students practicing in the gardens below, preparing for the Third Week Trials. Their magic felt different than mine—more controlled, more deliberate.

“I should be down there,” I sighed. “Learning to control all this power before I accidentally raise an army of dead things during testing.”

“They’ve had years of preparation,” Keane said. “You’ve had days.” He hesitated, then added, “My mother used to say power isn’t about how much magic you have, but how you use what you’ve got.”

The past tense hung in the air. Wisp pressed against his legs, offering silent comfort. I wanted to ask, but something in Keane’s expression warned me not to push.

“Was she…” I started carefully, but couldn’t find the right words.

“Gone,” he said shortly. Wisp whined, low and mournful. “Both of them. But that’s not—” He stood abruptly, gathering his books. “Focus on the trials. Leave the past where it belongs.”

I thought he’d vanish into his room without another word, but he hesitated—just long enough to look back. His eyes caught mine, darker now, shadowed with something I couldn’t name.

Grief. Anger. Loneliness. All of it, maybe.

He didn’t say anything else. He didn’t need to.

And still, as he turned away, I couldn’t stop noticing—how the lamplight caught in his hair, how still he carried himself, how beautiful he was even when trying to disappear.

Damn it.

12

Keane

The throbbing inmy temples wouldn’t let up. The wellspring ceremony had stirred something—the way our magic had flowed together, effortless, natural. Nothing like the careful control Uncle’s therapy maintained. Nothing like the strict structure I had been taught my entire life.

I kept telling myself it was nothing. A fluke. An anomaly that would never happen again.

But even now, my portals wavered.

I focused on the book in front of me, trying to drown out the hum of restless magic under my skin.

Then a familiar voice cut through my thoughts.

“There you are,” Cyrus said, stepping into the aisle. His presence made the air feel tight, charged. “Hiding in the library again?”

I hesitated. Just for a moment.

Elio appeared a second later, lounging against the side of my table with practiced ease, his fingers idly spinning his rings. “Now, now. Is that any way to treat old friends?”

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