Page 59 of Darkness and Deceit
LILITH
The silence isthe worst part.
Not the shouts we heard before the wards sealed.
Not the magic hammering against the upper halls.
Not even the faint, bone-deep vibration that passes through the stone.
It’s the quiet that kills me.
The stillness that drapes itself over the room like a funeral veil.
I press my back to the wall and try to breathe, but the air feels stale. Stagnant. My lungs expand, but it’s like I’m only ever half full. Every inhale leaves me wanting. Every heartbeat thrums like a warning bell. Every nerve feels frayed like I’m made of static, cracked porcelain, and tattered hope.
Across the room, Simon stands like a sentinel. One hand rests on the hilt of his sword, the other clenched at his side like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. He hasn’t spoken in minutes—hasn’t moved, except to glance at me when he thinks I’m not looking.
But I know he feels it, too.
Something’s wrong.
The reinforced lower corridors of the west wing are meant to protect us—thick walls, layered wards, glowing glyphs etched into the floor like some kind of holy script. We’re safe here. That’s what they told us.
But safety is a lie when people you care about are out there bleeding.
My magic simmers just beneath the surface. Restless. Coiled. The tether between me and Kai pulses. I keep reaching for it, keep brushing against the space where he should be.
But it’s fraying.
It’s distant.
And that’s the part that terrifies me.
He’s in pain.
And I can’t get to him.
I pace the edge of the room, ignoring the wary glances from the other students. First-years line the walls, some whispering, some clutching hands like that’ll stop whatever is coming. A girl near the back is crying into her sleeve, her sobs barely muffled.
A boy near the glyph-line whispers, “We weren’t supposed to see combat this soon.”
“They said first contact wouldn’t happen until after field training,” someone else mutters.
“Do you think this is it? Like… a real breach?”
Another student swallows hard. “I thought I’d feel ready. I don’t.”
A boy near the glyph-line glances up with wide, panicked eyes. “Is it true they move so fast you don’t even see it coming?”
A second voice replies, whisper-sharp. “My cousin said they don’t leave bodies. Just blood.”
I clench my jaw. My hands. My everything.
Then—
“Lilith?”
Tony’s voice cracks like a branch. He’s pale, fidgeting with the sleeve of his too-long hoodie, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Are you… okay?”
