Alex The training pavilion reeked of sweat, and fresh-cut grass. Morning sun sliced through the rafters, dappling the sanded floors with gold and shadow. The clang of swords, the crack of bone against padded mats, the sharp bark of instructors echoing commands—all of it usually grounded me, reminded me where I belonged in the hierarchy of Blackwood. Today, it only grated my already fraying nerves. I sat cross-legged on the edge of the sparring ring, elbows resting on my knees, nails tapping irritably against each other as my gaze flicked between Atlas and Jace. They sat in stony silence on the opposite bench, arms folded, bodies taut with unspoken animosity. Atlas’s eyes were fixed straight ahead, unblinking, jaw clenched so tight I wondered if he tasted blood. His raven-black hair fell across his brow, casting shadows over his eyes. Beside him, Jace lounged with an air of cold detachment, his muscular arm draped along the back of the bench, legs spread wide in that infuriatingl
Zara I sat on the edge of my thin mattress, staring blankly at the cold stone floor. The sun had only just begun to rise, spilling through the window, brushing my bare toes with trembling light. A shiver passed through me, curling around my ribs, making my chest tighten until it hurt to breathe. Eighteen. The number echoed in my mind like a chime striking midnight. I’d spent my entire life in fear of this day, counting the months in secret dread, wondering if I would live long enough to reach it… and now that it was days away, the terror felt thick and metallic on my tongue. I pressed my fingertips into the creased blanket pooled around my thighs. My nails dug crescent moons into the flesh of my palms. The room was silent except for my ragged breathing. Even though Alex’s room was down the hall, I felt her presence looming like a shadow in my thoughts. I imagined her now, asleep in her own perfect room, hair spread like a raven’s wing across silk sheets. Alex. Her name felt jagg
Atlas The moon rose slowly over Blackwood’s northern towers, casting a muted silver glow through the frost-kissed windows of my room. Its pale light slithered across the thick patterned carpet, glinting off scattered reports on my desk, illuminating the cracked spine of an abandoned textbook near my boots. Shadows stretched along the walls like silent witnesses to my unrest. I sat in the leather chair by the window, elbows braced on my knees, fingers woven tightly together as I stared out at the sleeping grounds below. From here, I could see the faint lamplights near the east gate, the stone courtyard wrapped in thin mist, the looming outline of the forest’s edge beyond the training grounds. The air felt stagnant tonight. Like it held its breath with me. My chest burned with silent anger as my father’s words replayed in my mind. “We can’t afford for her to awaken the uncontrolled. If you can’t handle it, Atlas, I’ll have Jace do it.” My jaw clenched so tightly it ached. Every mu
Jace “Liar!” Alex’s voice sliced through the suffocating silence, shrill and venomous. “He’s lying! He’s covering up for her, Headmaster. She was going through my things—” “Enough.” Kieran Ashbane didn’t even raise his voice, but the command in it snapped through the air like a whip. His golden eyes flicked to her with cold disdain. “Miss Monroe, unless you wish to join her punishment, I suggest you leave.” “But—” “I said, leave.” Alex’s mouth clamped shut, fury darkening her pretty features. She glanced between me and Zara, and for a brief moment, something like betrayal flitted across her gaze before it twisted into hatred, hatred aimed directly at Zara. She turned sharply, heels cracking against the marble as she stormed out, her aura leaving a bitter aftertaste in the room. Headmaster Ashbane sighed and leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers under his chin, his gaze sliding from me to Zara with calculating laziness. The aura of his power coiled, thick and choking.
Zara I didn’t sleep that night. Even after the bells tolled midnight and the academy fell silent around me, I lay awake staring at the ceiling, counting the faint cracks in the plaster. Sleep refused to come. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Alex’s face as she slipped Mira’s diary into her satchel. Her narrowed eyes. Her precise movements. Her betrayal. By dawn, my decision was made. I waited until the morning classes began and the corridors buzzed with chatter and hurried footsteps. The air smelled faintly of coffee, as students filed into lecture halls in tight clusters, their voices weaving together into a blanket of noise that muffled my racing heartbeat. I kept my head down as I walked past the statue of Alvaro statue, the school’s first headmaster , his stone gaze following me accusingly as I slipped into the east dormitory wing. Alex’s room was near the end of the corridor, her nameplate glinting gold in the dim morning light. My hands trembled as I reached for her door
Zara The first thing I noticed when I returned to my dorm was the silence. Not the comforting kind, like early dawn before the sun rises, but the suffocating kind, dense, stale, vibrating with something wrong. I closed the door softly behind me, dropping my bag onto my bed. My eyes scanned the room automatically, cataloguing every detail. The ivory sheets tucked in place. The navy throw blanket folded at the foot. My slippers neatly aligned beneath the nightstand. My textbooks stacked from tallest to shortest on my polished mahogany desk. Everything looked… untouched. But something was missing. I felt it like an itch just beneath my ribs. Slowly, I approached my bedside drawer. My fingers curled around the handle, skin prickling with foreboding. I pulled it open. Empty. No. No, no, no. I dropped to my knees, ripping open the second drawer. Pens. Notebooks. The small velvet pouch where I kept my emergency coins. But no journal. My breath caught painfully. I reached into t