Page 16 of Darkness and Deceit (Obsidian Academy #2)

Thirteen

LILITH

I wake to warmth on my face.

Not sunlight, but something softer, flickering, like firelight. I blink slowly, my lashes sticking together. My limbs feel heavy, like I’ve trained way too much.

When I inhale, I smell moss and magic. My hands sink into the earth beneath me. I’m on the forest floor.

And I’m not alone.

Augustus kneels nearby, his glow dimmed but still visible. His eyes are locked on me and he looks like he hasn’t moved since I fell.

Just behind him, something shifts, and I see them.

My fox. My deer.

Predator and Prey.

Two halves of one whole.

Both standing at the tree line, silent and watchful. Their eyes glow faintly in the low light, otherworldly but… familiar. It’s like they’ve been waiting for me to return to myself.

“Lilith,” Augustus says quietly, drawing my attention. His voice breaks something in me. A crack between breath and memory.

He doesn’t reach for me. But his hands hover—one ghosting inches from my arm, fingers twitching like he wants to help but can’t bring himself to touch me.

No contact. No interference. No comfort.

The Keeper rule.

Still, there’s something stormy and unspoken in his eyes. There’s conflict carved into the tightness of his jaw, in the way his body leans forward but won’t cross that final distance.

For one suspended moment, all I see is him and the weight he’s carrying alone. Then I shift slightly, and the moment fractures.

My fox pads closer and nudges my shoulder gently, grounding me with the warmth of its breath. My deer remains in the shadows, vigilant, like it knows this forest isn’t finished with us yet.

I sit up slowly, and Augustus exhales like he’s been holding his breath this whole time.

“You were unresponsive for several minutes,” he says. “I was about to call for assistance.”

“But you didn’t,” I rasp, voice scratchy.

“I… couldn’t.” His eyes flick to my fox, then back to me. “They wouldn’t let me.”

I glance at them, then back at him. I don’t know what I expect to see—maybe guilt, or regret—but what I find is worse.

Distance.

Not the kind that comes from duty. The kind that comes from someone pulling away. And I don’t know if it’s because of what he saw… or what he felt.

“What did you see?” Augustus asks, quietly.

I rub my temples, trying to remember. “Chains. Fire. A voice that told me to step through.” My hands tighten against the ground. “I don’t know if it was a vision or a memory… Or if something was trying to get in.”

Before anything else can be said, I hear the shift of branches. Three sets of footsteps are approaching fast—too fast for anyone casual.

Kai breaks through the trees first, eyes locked on me like he’s tracking my heartbeat. His movements are tight. Controlled. Dangerous .

Simon and Vaughn are right behind him, expressions pinched and frantic.

Kai doesn’t speak. He just stares .

“You felt it,” I say quietly, meeting his gaze.

He nods once.

He doesn’t say how. He doesn’t need to. We’re mates.

They reach me in a few long strides, surrounding me like a wall. Simon’s already scanning my face for injuries. Vaughn’s pacing a few feet away, raking his hands through his hair.

“She’s all right now,” Augustus says before anyone can start yelling. “But she needs rest.”

I force myself to stand, even though my legs still tremble. “We should go.”

Augustus nods. “I’ll return to the camp and report to the Elders.” He hesitates. Like he wants to say something more. But he doesn’t. He just turns and disappears back the way we came, swallowed by trees and silence.

I don’t watch him leave.

Simon falls into step beside me without a word. Vaughn and Kai flank us as we move back toward the Keeper camp, slipping along the edge of their perimeter. No one stops us. No one speaks. It’s like the forest itself has gone quiet to let us pass.

By the time the academy walls come into view, I feel the exhaustion settle in deep. Bone-deep. Magic-deep. I just want to lie down. I just want to breathe .

We cross into the courtyard and I’m met with a sea of eyes, dozens of pairs, if not more, all staring at me, parting to clear a path like they can’t get away from me fast enough as I pass.

The judgment in their gazes is clear and it makes my stomach twist into knots.

Whispers ripple through the crowd, and my anxiety rises.

Gods.

Before arriving at the academy, this scenario was my worst nightmare—not fitting in and being judged by those around me. Natalie assured me that it’s normal to feel like that, but I should’ve known better.

Beyond the walkway, leaning awkwardly near one of the stone benches like he’s not sure if he should wait or leave is Tony. His eyes meet mine, wide and worried.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft and uncertain. “You okay?” That simple question tightens my chest. He doesn’t ask what’s going on or what I’ve been up to. Instead, he genuinely wants to know if I’m all right. The truth is, I don’t fully know how to answer that question.

“You look… a little pale,” Tony adds with a wince, taking a cautious step forward like he’s afraid I might shatter.

I let out something between a laugh and a sigh. “That’s probably because I collapsed in the woods.”

His face twists with alarm. “Wait—what?”

I wave him off before he can spiral. “I’m fine. Really. It’s… a long story.”

He studies me for a beat, then glances at the three boys standing a short distance behind me. “They didn’t exactly look calm walking in with you.”

I follow his gaze. Simon’s standing with his arms crossed, quietly scanning the courtyard like he’s expecting an ambush.

Vaughn is perched against a pillar, trying to act casual but very obviously still wound tight.

And Kai—Kai hasn’t moved more than a few feet from me since we stepped onto school grounds.

I turn back to Tony and try to offer something lighter. “I think they’re starting to realize I’m a full-time job.”

His lips twitch. “To be fair, you kind of always have been.”

That pulls a real smile from me. Tired, but real. “That’s fair.”

He nudges my shoulder gently with his own. “You don’t have to say anything. I know I’m not part of all this… whatever this is.” He gestures vaguely at the guys. “But I’m here. If you ever need to talk. Or scream. Or fake a stomach ache to get out of something.”

My throat tightens. Gods, I missed this—someone who sees me without needing explanations or power levels or classifications.

“Thanks, Tony. I mean it.”

A beat passes.

“You need rest.”

Kai’s firm voice comes from just behind me. Like it’s not a suggestion. I turn to look at him. For once I see exhaustion behind his eyes, but he’s more concerned with my well-being.

“I’m fine?—”

“You’re not,” he says gently.

I could argue. But I’d lose. And maybe… I don’t want to. Maybe I want someone to take care of me for once.

Tony catches the look between us and offers me a soft, crooked smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” I nod. “Tomorrow.”

Kai doesn’t touch me. He just turns and starts walking, slow and steady, like he knows I’ll follow.

And I do.

Simon and Vaughn fall in behind us without a word, and the four of us move as one through the courtyard. The whispers grow quieter the deeper we go, but the stares linger like smoke clinging to my skin.

I keep my head down.

When we reach the arched hallway that curves around the gardens, Kai lifts his hand and shadows swirl up from the stones beneath our feet. They don’t lash or whip like they do in a fight. They wrap around us gently, like a cocoon. A shield.

And then we’re moving.

The world outside blurs. The halls vanish behind us. The whispers fade.

When we land, it’s in front of a tall, dark oak door. Kai pushes it open and gestures for me to go in first.

The room is quiet. Stark. Like it was designed for someone who doesn’t sleep much or doesn’t plan to stay long.

The walls are a deep, matte black, broken only by a wide arched window that frames the storm clouds rolling in outside.

A single fireplace glows low in the hearth behind us, casting soft golden light across stone floors and shadows.

The bed is surprisingly large and clean-lined, tucked beneath a canopy of dark drapes. Fourth-year perks, I guess. A dresser stands nearby, tall and unadorned. No clutter. No books. Nothing. It’s like the room was built to hold secrets and nothing else.

“This yours?” I ask softly.

Kai nods.

Of course it is.

Simon closes the door behind us and leans against it like a sentry. Vaughn takes up post near the window, watching the shifting sky.

I just stand there for a beat, taking it all in.

“You’re safe now,” Kai says, stepping a little closer. His voice is quieter than usual. “We’ll stay close.”

I glance at him. The stormlight catches in his eyes, and something sharp flickers there—worry, maybe. Or something he won’t say.

“I’m fine,” I whisper.

“You’re not,” he replies gently. “But you will be.”

I want to believe him.

Simon nods toward the bed. “Rest. Just for a little while. We’ll keep watch.”

I hesitate for a second.

Then I sit and the mattress dips beneath me, solid and grounding. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding and lean back slowly, resting against the cool fabric of the pillows.

The last thing I see before I close my eyes is Kai—still standing there.

Still watching.