chapter 13

Evelyn never liked silence.

It was too loud.

Especially in the academy hallways at night, when the lanterns burned low and shadows clung to the walls like watchful creatures. The marble floors amplified every soft footstep, and the draft that seeped through the stained-glass windows whispered like phantom voices. She had left her dorm much later than usual, claiming she needed air, but the truth was she couldn’t breathe—not with everything unraveling around her.

Lucien had been distant all day. Cold. Detached. Like the bond between them had suddenly turned into a chain he wanted to rip off. And Elias—sweet, frustrating Elias—had taken it upon himself to fill that space. Walking her to class. Sitting closer at meals. His words were always light, teasing, but his eyes… his eyes searched her like he already knew she was splintering inside.

She pressed her palm against the mark on her wrist. It burned faintly, like a brand, a reminder. She was bound, whether she wanted to be or not.

“Can’t sleep?”

The voice made her jump. Evelyn turned sharply, hand falling away from her wrist. Elias leaned against the archway that opened into the courtyard, his messy hair catching the moonlight, his grin faint but not careless. He hadn’t even tried to be quiet—because why should he? He carried himself with the kind of confidence that didn’t need shadows to shield him.

Evelyn forced a smile. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Shouldn’t you?” he countered, pushing away from the archway and strolling toward her. “Or did you think wandering into the dark alone was a brilliant idea?”

“Better than listening to you snore,” she muttered.

He chuckled, but his smile faltered before it reached his eyes. “Evelyn…” His voice softened. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”

The sincerity nearly undid her. She wanted to spill everything—that Lucien’s touch still lingered on her skin, that her dreams were full of blood and whispers, that the prophecy clawed at her every waking thought. That she was afraid. That she was torn.

But she couldn’t. Elias wasn’t supposed to be caught in this web.

Instead, she looked away. “It’s complicated.”

“Then uncomplicate it,” he pressed, stepping closer. His warmth bled into the cold air, and she caught the faint scent of ink and cedarwood clinging to his clothes. “I can take complicated, Evelyn. What I can’t take is watching you drown in silence.”

Her throat tightened. Words balanced at the edge of escape—until a sudden chill swept through the courtyard.

Evelyn froze. Elias noticed too; his shoulders tensed, his gaze darting toward the fountain where shadows pooled unnaturally deep.

And then—

“Enjoying the night air?”

Lucien’s voice sliced through the quiet, smooth and sharp all at once. He stepped out of the darkness like it belonged to him, his coat whispering against stone, his presence coiling around them like smoke. His eyes glowed faintly, restrained power leaking through the cracks.

Evelyn’s heart stuttered.

“Lucien,” she whispered.

He didn’t look at her. His gaze locked on Elias, cool and merciless. “Strange, isn’t it? How the academy forbids wandering after dark… and yet here you both are.”

Elias stiffened but didn’t move back. “We weren’t hurting anyone.”

Lucien tilted his head, a cruel curve tugging at his mouth. “Not yet.”

Evelyn stepped forward quickly. “Lucien, stop. We were just—”

“What?” His eyes flicked to her, and for an instant, the mask cracked. She glimpsed something raw—fear, jealousy, longing?—but it vanished in the next breath. His expression hardened to ice. “Be careful who you trust, Evelyn.”

Her stomach knotted.

Elias’s fists curled at his sides. “If you have something to say, say it to me. Don’t use her as your weapon.”

The tension thickened, sharp as steel. Evelyn moved between them, pulse racing, hands raised as if she could physically hold back the storm. “Enough! Both of you!”

For a moment, none of them moved. The courtyard itself seemed to wait.

Then Lucien turned, his coat flaring as he melted back into the shadows. The night seemed colder once he was gone.

Evelyn’s knees wobbled. She sucked in a shaky breath, only to feel Elias’s hand brush her arm, steadying her. “Don’t let him get to you,” he murmured. “He thrives on control. That doesn’t mean you have to give it to him.”

But Lucien’s words echoed, branded into her skull. Be careful who you trust.

---

The next morning, whispers rippled through the academy. Students clustered in corners, their voices hushed and eager. Something had happened in the forbidden archives—a room cloaked in wards and fear. A place most didn’t dare to name aloud.

At breakfast, Evelyn sat between Ava and Elias, her spoon unmoving in her bowl. Ava leaned close, voice barely a whisper.

“You heard, right? The archives. Professors are panicking. They say something’s been stolen.”

Evelyn’s stomach flipped. “Stolen?”

“Not just anything.” Ava’s eyes gleamed. “Scrolls about the Blood Curse. The prophecy itself.”

Evelyn’s pulse spiked. Her gaze slid—against her will—across the hall. Lucien sat at the far end, alone, his head bowed, his hand too still around his cup. He looked composed. Detached. But Evelyn knew better. His stillness was a mask, and the tension coiled in his shoulders screamed louder than words.

Elias followed her gaze, jaw tightening. “If he’s involved—”

“Don’t,” Evelyn cut in.

His brows lifted. “Don’t what? Pretend he’s innocent? He’s hiding something, Evelyn. You know it.”

Ava glanced between them, curiosity flickering, but said nothing.

Evelyn shoved her spoon down and stood abruptly. The weight of stares prickled her skin. She couldn’t do this here. Not with Elias glaring at Lucien. Not with Ava listening like a hawk. Not with her chest threatening to crack open.

“I need to clear my head,” she muttered, leaving the hall without looking back.

---

By dusk, her feet had carried her where her thoughts feared to go: the library. The iron-bound doors loomed, etched with sigils that pulsed faintly in the dark. She hadn’t meant to come here, but something inside her—bond, curse, fate—drove her on.

“Planning on breaking in?”

Her heart lurched. She spun around. Lucien leaned against the wall, shadows curling around him like they’d been waiting.

Her breath caught. “Were you following me?”

“Always.” His voice was soft, dangerous, threaded with unspoken things. He stepped closer, and for once, he looked less like a prince cursed by prophecy and more like a boy—tired, fractured, haunted.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.

“Neither should you.” He reached out, fingers brushing her wrist. The mark flared, heat spiraling through her veins until her knees weakened. “You feel it too. The bond tightening. The danger closing in.”

Her chest ached. “Lucien… what are you hiding from me?”

For a breath, he wavered. His lips parted, his eyes softened, and she swore he might actually tell her.

Then—footsteps.

Ava stepped from the shadows, her eyes wide. “Evelyn? What are you—” She stopped, gaze flicking between them. Her lips curved slowly, but the smile didn’t warm her eyes.

Evelyn jerked back from Lucien, guilt burning her cheeks.

Lucien’s face shuttered instantly. Whatever had been about to break in him snapped shut. He turned without a word and vanished into the darkness.

Ava’s eyes lingered on Evelyn, sharp and knowing. “Careful,” she murmured. “Secrets have a way of bleeding into the wrong hands.”

The warning lingered long after she left.

And for the first time, Evelyn wasn’t sure who she should fear more—Lucien, Elias… or Ava.