Page 22 of Darkness and Deceit (Obsidian Academy #2)
Nineteen
LILITH
The silence is the worst part.
Not the shouts we heard before the wards sealed.
Not the magic hammering against the upper halls.
Not even the faint, bone-deep vibration that passes through the stone.
It’s the quiet that kills me.
The stillness that drapes itself over the room like a funeral veil.
I press my back to the wall and try to breathe, but the air feels stale.
Stagnant. My lungs expand, but it’s like I’m only ever half full.
Every inhale leaves me wanting. Every heartbeat thrums like a warning bell.
Every nerve feels frayed like I’m made of static, cracked porcelain, and tattered hope.
Across the room, Simon stands like a sentinel. One hand rests on the hilt of his sword, the other clenched at his side like it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. He hasn’t spoken in minutes—hasn’t moved, except to glance at me when he thinks I’m not looking.
But I know he feels it, too.
Something’s wrong.
The reinforced lower corridors of the west wing are meant to protect us—thick walls, layered wards, glowing glyphs etched into the floor like some kind of holy script. We’re safe here. That’s what they told us.
But safety is a lie when people you care about are out there bleeding.
My magic simmers just beneath the surface. Restless. Coiled. The tether between me and Kai pulses. I keep reaching for it, keep brushing against the space where he should be.
But it’s fraying.
It’s distant.
And that’s the part that terrifies me.
He’s in pain.
And I can’t get to him.
I pace the edge of the room, ignoring the wary glances from the other students. First-years line the walls, some whispering, some clutching hands like that’ll stop whatever is coming. A girl near the back is crying into her sleeve, her sobs barely muffled.
A boy near the glyph-line whispers, “We weren’t supposed to see combat this soon.”
“They said first contact wouldn’t happen until after field training,” someone else mutters.
“Do you think this is it? Like… a real breach?”
Another student swallows hard. “I thought I’d feel ready. I don’t.”
A boy near the glyph-line glances up with wide, panicked eyes. “Is it true they move so fast you don’t even see it coming?”
A second voice replies, whisper-sharp. “My cousin said they don’t leave bodies. Just blood.”
I clench my jaw. My hands. My everything.
Then—
“Lilith?”
Tony’s voice cracks like a branch. He’s pale, fidgeting with the sleeve of his too-long hoodie, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows. “Are you… okay?”
I stare at him.
Just stare.
He gestures weakly toward the floor. “You, uh… you look like you’re about to pass out, or punch someone. Or both. Just thought maybe I could?—”
“She doesn’t need that right now,” Simon cuts in, firm but not unkind. He steps forward, placing himself between us like a drawn blade. “Go sit down.”
Tony blinks. “Right. Okay. Sitting. Yep.” He scurries off, practically tripping over himself.
I don’t say thank you. But Simon doesn’t need it.
His eyes flick toward me. His expression is calm. Steady. Too steady. “They know what they’re doing.”
“I don’t care if they know what they’re doing.” The words snap out before I can stop them. “He’s out there. They’re out there.”
Simon holds my gaze for a long moment. He doesn’t tell me to sit. Doesn’t tell me to breathe. He just nods, like he’s saying I know . And I hate how much it helps.
I press a hand to my chest. There’s no shift in the tether. No warmth. Just the faintest flicker of something… but it’s fading—and fast.
I squeeze my eyes shut.
And then it hits like a tidal wave crashing into shore.
A spike of panic—raw and blistering—slams through me. It’s not mine. It’s his .
“Kai—” I choke, stumbling forward like someone just kicked the air out of me.
Simon’s at my side in an instant. “What is it?”
I grip the cold stone wall to stay upright. My vision swims.
“He’s not—he’s—” I can’t finish.
Because I see it.
Just a flash.
Blood. Smoke. A twisted grin lit by blue fire.
And Kai?—
Screaming.
Then nothing.
My knees buckle. The world tilts sideways, and I don’t even feel myself falling, but Simon is there. He catches me before I hit the stone, his arms anchoring me like I might vanish. Like he knows this isn’t panic. It’s a fracture.
The glyphs around the room flare into a blinding white. They scream with light. Every line of ancient magic pulses like it’s trying to hold back something it was never meant to face.
Whispers erupt into cries. A ripple of fear tears through the room as students stumble back from the walls, from me.
The air shifts, like something ancient just took a breath. The temperature drops. The wards tremble. My magic roils inside me, frantic and desperate, but with nowhere to go.
My whole being is screaming for him. The tether between us snaps taut inside my chest like a burning wire that should carry warmth but carries agony instead.
He’s not gone.
But something inside him just shattered.
And now something inside me is splintering with it.
Someone moves toward me, a blur of white coat and hesitation, but stops short when the glyphs flare again. A whisper: “It’s her tether. It’s unraveling.”
“We should call a Keeper?—”
“They’ll say it’s outside our scope. We’re not trained for Dual collapse?—”
The words buzz in my ears like static.
Tears sting at the corners of my eyes, but I don’t wipe them away. The helplessness clawing at me is suffocating. I can’t help him. I can only feel his pain bleeding into mine, thread by unraveling thread.
Simon tightens his hold, but it’s not enough.
It can’t be enough.
Because something’s broken.
Not just Kai.
Not just the wards.
Not just the lie of safety we’ve been fed since stepping into this academy.
The Balance itself is shifting.
And if we don’t move, if I don’t fight my way out of this cage and do something?—
I’m going to break into pieces too small to put back together.
I bury my face in my arms and let the tears fall freely. Something inside me shifts, sharpens, readies.
I don’t want to be the girl they lock away while the world burns.
And next time, I won’t be.
Let them call me storm.
I’ll show them why.