Ravenshade screamed.
Not with sound—but with absence.
Kael felt it first.
The bond he had forged with the academy's magic—rewritten by his own hands years ago—stuttered. A space where Aerin's presence should have been simply… wasn't.
Gone.
Kael didn't ask questions. He didn't call a council. He didn't wait for confirmation.
The shadows exploded.
Stone corridors darkened as his power surged unchecked, ancient and merciless. Windows shattered outward. Wards recoiled like living things trying to flee their maker.
"Elara," Kael said, voice low and lethal, "she's been taken."
Elara froze for exactly one heartbeat.
Then the world tilted.
Her magic—light refined by balance and fury—ignited so brightly the academy's towers glowed like beacons. She pressed a hand to her chest, pain and terror twisting together, but her voice did not break.
"By who," she asked.
Kael's eyes burned silver-black.
"Lucien."
They found the breach at the eastern ravine.
The wards hadn't been shattered—they had been politely opened.
Kael knelt, fingers brushing the torn sigils. His shadows recoiled, recognizing the signature beneath the work.
"He used a key," Kael snarled. "A living one."
Elara's breath hitched.
"Caelan."
The name tasted like betrayal.
Zara arrived moments later—already running, already knowing.
She followed them into the infirmary when the healers shouted in shock.
Because at the exact moment Aerin was dragged into darkness—
Ilyas woke up.
His gasp was violent, lungs burning as if he'd surfaced from deep water. His eyes flew open, unfocused, wild.
"Ilyas!" Zara was at his side instantly, gripping his hand like an anchor. "Easy—easy—you're safe."
He shook his head weakly, panic flooding his expression. "No—no—Aerin—"
The room went dead silent.
Kael stepped forward, shadows curling like blades at his back. "You saw something."
Ilyas swallowed hard. His voice was hoarse, but steady with purpose.
"Caelan," he said. "He was using Lucien's magic. He attacked me because I found out. And now—"
His eyes met Elara's.
"He lured her out."
Elara closed her eyes.
For half a second, the world trembled.
Then she opened them—and the mercy was gone.
Ryn stood in the doorway, fists clenched, face pale with rage.
"I warned him," he said quietly. "I told him to run."
Kael straightened, shadows snapping into disciplined formation.
"Where would Lucien take her?"
Ryn didn't hesitate. "The Umbral Sanctum. The old stronghold east of the Black Divide."
Zara inhaled sharply. "That place feeds on broken magic."
Kael's smile was cold and terrible. "Then it will choke on mine."
Far away, Aerin felt the shift.
The prison walls trembled—not from Lucien's power, but from something older, angrier, and unmistakably familiar.
Her father.
Her mother.
She smiled slowly, blood on her lip, magic coiling obediently at her call.
"They're coming," she whispered into the dark.
Lucien felt it too.
The backlash slammed into his chest, knocking him against the obsidian altar. He coughed, dark blood staining his sleeve—but he laughed.
"Good," he murmured. "Let them come."
Because the trap wasn't just for Aerin.
It was for all of them.
And deep within the fortress, Caelan braced himself against the wall, shaking as Lucien's wards punished him for his quiet sabotage.
"They'll kill me," he whispered.
But he didn't stop.
Because somewhere beyond stone and shadow, Kael Ashborne was coming.
And this time—
There would be no mercy left to burn.