Page 45

Laced with Light and Venom

A s the sun dipped behind the towering spires of Drakestone Academy, the dining hall transformed into a haven of warmth and laughter.

Golden light filtered through stained glass windows, painting the elegant room in shifting hues of amber and rose.

The round tables, set with polished silver and delicate porcelain, groaned under the weight of an opulent feast—platters of roast, bowls of vibrant fruits, and exquisite desserts that promised sweetness in every bite.

The atmosphere was alive with the murmur of conversation and the soft clinking of cutlery, all underscored by a gentle, ever-present hum of contentment.

I lounged next to Bethany and couldn't suppress a grin as I replayed the day's remarkable events in my mind. The image of Leander's bold, heartfelt gesture for Lydia lingered like the fading glow of enchanted fireflies.

His ability to conjure those tiny, luminous creatures—making them dance and spell out his invitation—was pure magic. Now, as I glanced across the table, there they were: Leander and Lydia, side by side, their faces glowing with a shy radiance, as if the cosmos itself had orchestrated their union.

"Did you see the way Lydia’s eyes sparkled?" Bethany whispered, leaning closer so her words wouldn’t be drowned out by the lively chatter. Her copper hair framed her animated expression as she continued, "I’ve never seen her smile like that before."

I nodded, stirring the contents of my goblet absentmindedly. "It was like watching a secret unfold right before our eyes. And Leander—he looked so nervous, yet so determined. I can’t help but admire his courage."

At that moment, Leander caught my eye. His freckled face was illuminated by the soft glow of candlelight, and though a blush still lingered on his cheeks, there was an unmistakable spark in his eyes—a mixture of triumph and vulnerability.

Lydia leaned in closer to him, and together they exchanged whispered words and shy smiles that sent a ripple of joy through the room.

"Lydia," I heard him say softly, almost to himself, "I can’t believe this is really happening."

Lydia’s response was a gentle laugh. "Neither can I, but it feels so right. You always see things others miss, Sterling. I feel as though we have known each other forever." Her words, playful yet sincere, elicited a tender smile from him.

Across the table, Bethany leaned over and said, "Elvana, are you hoping for Samael to ask you to the ball?" Her tone was teasing, but I knew her meaning was less than affectionate. My friends had made it clear that Samael was someone they believed to be dangerous—and maybe I believed it too.

As the days progressed, I couldn’t figure out his motives. Every ounce of me wanted to believe that he had pure intentions, that he was truly on our side, looking to protect me.

Vivienne’s words hung like a noose around my neck every time I looked at him. He had made it clear he did not want me to continue the search for the relics, but if he truly understood what they were, wouldn’t he want me to destroy them?

His conversation with Edric in the library stirred doubt in me—that everything he was telling me was a lie, that his motives were selfish, dangerous even.

I met her gaze with a gentle smile. "Maybe I do," I admitted softly. "But tonight, I’m just happy to witness this. I don’t believe now is the time for me to focus on the dark and brooding man who seems to be the epitome of danger."

A burst of conversation erupted nearby as a group of students complimented the dining hall's sumptuous spread, and I could hear snippets of excited chatter about upcoming events and the whispered rumors of secret romances.

The sound of laughter—rich and genuine—filled the air, creating a comforting cocoon around us.

Leander let out a long, thoughtful breath, breaking the quiet spell between us.

“Elle,” he said softly—but there was a weight behind the words that silenced even the firelight around us. “You’re too bright, too brilliant, to waste your energy on someone like Samael Norwood.”

The usual edge of teasing was gone. What remained was sincerity—unflinching and clear.

“He’s nothing but trouble.”

He shifted, pulling his arm from Lydia’s shoulders to fully face me. His gaze searched mine, earnest and unblinking.

“And if any part of what Vivienne said holds truth, we can’t risk letting him get near the Raven’s Echo. The only reason he’d want it…” His voice tightened. “…is to beat us to the relics. That’s not a risk we can afford to take.”

His words echoed in my chest, crashing like a wave of clarity—challenging everything I thought I knew, everything I felt.

And somewhere beneath the rush of doubt, something colder stirred:

What if he was right?

“I’m sorry, Elle, but Leander’s right,” Lydia said quietly, though there was no hesitation in her voice. Concern pulled at her expression, her brows drawn tight. “You’ve had doubts about him from the very beginning. You said so yourself.”

She glanced toward the darkened windows, as if expecting to see him there, just beyond the glass.

“And he’s always there,” she added, more firmly now. “Lurking. Listening. Showing up when we least expect it. I know he says he’s trying to help, but it doesn’t feel like protection—it feels like surveillance.”

Her eyes met mine, calm but unflinching. “It doesn’t sit right with me.”

Their words echoed in my mind, each syllable a reminder of the uneasy feeling that had clawed at me since Samael had entered my life.

I was caught in a web of my own making, torn between the allure of his mysterious presence and the stark reality of their warnings.

Could I trust my instincts—or was I merely a fool, blinded by the thrill of the unknown?

My thoughts shifted as I caught Vivienne’s approach in the corner of my eye. Her movements were fluid, deliberate—predatory. Her gaze locked with mine a beat before her voice sliced through the low murmur of conversation around us.

“I need to speak with Elvana,” she announced, her tone cool and uncompromising.

Her sandy hair cascaded in perfect waves, framing her angular features like she’d stepped out of a painting sharpened by intent. Every inch of her presence was polished and dangerous.

Bethany shifted beside me, copper curls bouncing as she turned to face her.

“We’re in the middle of dinner, Vivienne,” she said, her voice laced with polite irritation that didn’t quite manage to sound polite.

Vivienne offered a smile—tight, rehearsed, and entirely devoid of warmth.

“Oh, I’m sure you can spare her for a moment. This won’t take long.”

Without waiting for permission, she slid into the empty seat across from me, her eyes never straying from mine.

A chill traced its way down my spine, unwelcome and sudden.

“What is it, Vivienne?” I asked, keeping my voice as even as I could manage.

“Elvana,” Vivienne said, her voice like ice cracking under pressure. “What more do I need to do to prove that Sam doesn’t want you?”

Her tone was cold, dismissive, cutting through the noise of the dining hall like a knife.

“You’re so enchanted by his charm that you can’t see the truth. He’s dangerous. And he belongs to me.”

The words hit like a slap. I felt the tight pull in my chest. Leander, seated beside me, tensed visibly, his hand curling slightly on the edge of the table. Across from us, Lydia’s expression hardened. Her eyes tracked Vivienne with quiet precision.

Vivienne leaned forward, her voice low but laced with venom.

“I’ve known Samael longer than you’ve even understood the meaning of power. I’ve watched him. Protected him. And I will do whatever it takes to keep someone like you from distracting him.”

She paused, eyes narrowing.

“You’re naive if you think he truly sees you.”

Leander’s jaw tightened, his gaze dropping briefly to his lap, the tension in him undeniable. Lydia didn’t move, but her silence was weighty, bristling with unspoken judgment.

I drew in a breath and steadied myself.

“Samael isn’t a possession,” I said, my voice even. “You can’t claim a person like they’re something you own.”

Vivienne laughed, sharp and joyless.

“You see what he lets you see. I see what’s underneath. I know his secrets. I’ve seen the darkness in him, and I’m not afraid of it.”

There was something in the way she said it—something that made my skin crawl. That obsession simmering beneath the surface, masked as certainty.

But I didn’t look away.

“I’m not afraid of him either,” I replied quietly. “And if you think he’s yours… then maybe you’re the one who’s not seeing clearly.”

The air between us shifted. The candlelight dimmed slightly, the shadows around Vivienne’s face lengthening.

I didn’t flinch.

“You don’t own him,” I said again, each word sharp, deliberate. “Samael isn’t something to be leashed by your jealousy or paraded around like proof of your worth. He’s not a prize you won—he’s a person, with thoughts and choices of his own.”

I let the next line hang just a beat longer.

“And from where I’m standing, it looks like his heart’s already drifting somewhere you can’t control.”

Vivienne’s eyes widened, the flicker of genuine surprise breaking through her mask.

She hadn’t expected me to bite back. Around us, the dining hall began to quiet—the usual hum of chatter fading beneath the weight of our standoff.

I felt Lydia and Leander go still beside me, their attention focused fully on what I would do next.

Vivienne leaned forward, her sandy waves swinging between us, her smile more teeth than charm.

“My, my,” she purred. “The little mouse found her voice. How charming. ”

“I’ve always had a voice,” I replied, sitting taller. “And I won’t be silenced by your theatrics. Whatever you and Samael once shared is your business—but you don’t get to dictate who he speaks to now.”

Vivienne’s eyes glittered, her expression tightening just enough to betray the sting.