Tous les chapitres de : Chapitre 41 - Chapitre 50

The Everley greenhouse was filled with the scents of damp earth and herbs, morning light casting golden hues across the potted plants. I hadn’t planned to be here, but something, perhaps fate, kept drawing me to Nora. She was focused on a sprig of mandragla, her curls falling into her face. I couldn’t help but speak up. “Careful, those little bastards sulk if you try too hard.” Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing at me. “And you’re an expert in sulking plants now?” I smirked, tugging on some gloves. “I’ve been accused of worse.” Nora's expression softened slightly. “You ‘happened’ to end up here, did you?” “Pure coincidence,” I replied smoothly, leaning closer. “Or maybe I just enjoy watching you work.” Color crept into her cheeks as we sorted hybrid plants together, her hand brushing against mine, making it hard to concentrate. “You’re supposed to be good at this,” she teased after I fumbled a vial. “I’m distracted,” I confessed quietly, our eyes locking for a moment, awaren

Obscura Arcanum: ob‑SKYOOR‑uh ar‑KAY‑nəmSchool Founders:Werewolf Founder Cillian Hawthorne pronunciation: KILL-ee-an HAW-thornVampire Founder Selene Nerezza pronunciation: si-LEE-nee neh-RET-tsahWizard/Witch Founder Alaric Everley pronunciation: AL-ə-rik EHV-ə-leeDragon Founder Seraphine Aurelian pronunciation: SEH-RA-FEEN aw·ree·lee·uhnMain Characters:Nora Carver pronunciation: NAWR-ə KAHR-vərCaelum Hawthorne pronunciation: KAL-əm HAW-thawrnLucien Nerezza pronunciation: LUY-SYEHN neh-RET-tsahElias Everley pronunciation: ee-LIE-əs EHV-ə-leeWerewolf Staff:Shara Boudin pronunciation: SHAHR-uh boo-danMykala Davis pronunciation: MY-kuh-luh DAY-visH

The problem with magic was that it never lied. I could pretend all I wanted that the kiss in the Aurelian gardens hadn’t rattled me, that the fire bleeding from her skin hadn’t sparked against my veins like kindling, but the truth kept burning through. Every rune I inked, every sigil I carved into parchment, shifted under my hand until the strokes resembled her name. Nora. My curse and my obsession. I’d told myself distance was smart. I’d told myself she was dangerous. And yet, the taste of her still lingered on my lips, sweet and sharp, like wine poured over flame. The kind of danger spellcasters were warned about from the first lesson: magic that sings when it shouldn’t. A resonance so rare it bordered on impossible. That was what she was to me. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the sparks where our mouths met, felt the way her pulse thundered through me as if it belonged there. So I buried myself in work. In spellcraft, in theory, in layering wards across the pages of grimoires u

The night was my element, and I slipped into it as easily as a blade through flesh. Obscura’s campus always carried a quiet pulse after curfew, wolves pacing in the woods, witches bending curfews with stolen spells, vampires sliding through corridors where no one else dared. But for me, tonight, there was only one presence that mattered. Nora. Her scent had become a compass, faint but unshakable, threaded through the crisp air like smoke from a fire that refused to die. I could track her no matter where she went, and it was both intoxicating and infuriating. Because I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Caelum with his wolf, always pressing too close, trying to corner her like she was prey instead of something untouchable. Elias, with his spellcraft, circling her like he’d starve if he didn’t draw from her fire. They both looked at her as if she might save them, as if she were theirs to claim. And when their gazes cut to me, sharp and venomous, I almost laughed. They hated me for want

The Guntlet where the trial took place was not just a test. It was a prison, a cage of shadows ready to crush me into nothing. The forest behind the gates did not feel like the familiar campus I had walked a hundred times before. Each tree seemed taller, branches warped into jagged silhouettes clawing at the moon. Trunks knotted together like skeletal fingers, and the very air seemed to choke, as if we had stepped into a place the world had long since forgotten. Torches flickered along the dirt path in front of us, but the light bent, as if it did not want to show everything. With every step, the ground crunched too loudly under my boots. The others fanned out on instinct, heirs and students taking uneven lines, but my gaze never left the forest. It moved. I could feel it, even if none of them would admit it. Shadows darted just out of sight, disappearing when I tried to stare. Whispers clawed at the back of my mind, dozens of voices that spoke a language I did not understand but st