Page 26 of Darkness and Deceit (Obsidian Academy #2)

Twenty-Three

SIMON

I don’t know what it means to pray, but I’ve been doing it anyway. Not to the gods. Or the Balance. Or the Keepers.

Just to Kai.

To whatever part of him is still in there, fighting to come back.

He hasn’t stirred since those few dazed moments with Lilith days ago.

I’ve been here every moment I could spare since. So has Vaughn. Between patrols, cleanup, and whatever vague orders the Keepers decide to give us, we’ve kept watch.

We haven’t said it out loud, but we’re both thinking it. If that fire keeps eating at him, twisting what’s left… we won’t let him face that alone.

Vaughn is passed out on a cot in the corner, boots kicked off and one arm slung over his eyes. He hasn’t moved in hours. He won’t talk about it, and I won’t push. But the silence where Kai should be? It’s loud. It sits between us like a wound we’re both pretending we don’t see.

I sit beside Kai’s bed opposite of a sleeping Lilith, staring at the rise and fall of his chest. Each breath is shallow but steady. That has to count for something, right?

Kai’s skin is pale—almost grey in the half-light—but the burn tracing down his side looks… darker. Contained, somehow. No longer unraveling him from the inside out. I don’t know if it’s Lilith’s bond holding him together, or if he’s just too stubborn to give in.

Either way, I’m grateful.

A gasp breaks the silence as Lilith wakes up and bolts upright. She’s slumped on the chair across from me, half-wrapped in one of the blankets the healers left behind. When she looks at me, I notice how red her eyes are, rimmed with exhaustion.

“He hasn’t moved,” I say quietly, before she can ask.

She nods, lips pressed tight. “I figured. The bond’s quiet.”

“He’s still in there.”

Lilith touches Kai’s arm lightly, brushing a hand down to his wrist like she’s checking for a sign he can feel it. When nothing happens, she closes her eyes for a breath.

Her braid is a tangled mess, and I don’t think she’s changed clothes since the night they brought Kai in.

Before I can say anything, she speaks. “We have to be ready for whatever happens next.”

“What do you need from me?” I ask, sensing there’s more to her statement.

She glances away briefly before her eyes find mine. “I need you to train me properly. I need to be ready. I–I refuse to be left behind again.”

I study her face. There’s steel in her eyes now. Whatever fear she walked into this academy with has sharpened into resolve. She was never fragile. Just unsharpened steel waiting for pressure, for fire, for something to forge her into what she was always meant to be.

Whatever hesitation she carried in has burned away, remade into something steadier. And gods help me, I don’t know if I feel more proud or more terrified of what I’d do to protect that fire now that it’s lit.

“All right. But Lilith,” I say, pausing briefly. “You’re already one of the most naturally talented fighters I’ve ever met. Especially for a first year. You just need some refining and to find harmony with your shadows.”

She snorts softly. “Harmony? I don’t even know what that would feel like.”

“Then that’s the first lesson,” I reply. “But first, you need to shower. Get some real sleep. Something.”

She glances at Kai, chest still rising and falling slow and uneven beneath the bandages. “I… don’t want to leave him. I told him I’d stay.”

“You have stayed.” I lean forward. “But you’re running on fumes, and he wouldn’t want that for you. He’d understand. Hell, he’d probably scold you for not taking care of yourself sooner.”

Her expression twists, part laugh, part guilt. “Yeah, I probably smell awful.”

“You do,” comes a groggy voice, scratchy with sleep as Vaughn stirs on the extra cot. His hair is a mess, his shirt wrinkled, but he manages a weak smirk. “Go clean up, Fox. I’ll keep Kai company. I’ll send my wolf if anything changes.”

Lilith hesitates, biting her lip. The war inside her is obvious.

“You won’t miss anything,” I say quietly. “You’ve done everything you can. Let us be here for him too.”

She finally nods, eyes shining but clear. “Okay. Just for a minute.”

“Take longer,” Vaughn mutters. “Seriously. You look like death.”

“So do you asshole,” she shoots back, the first real smile I’ve seen gracing her lips in days.

She turns her eyes back to me. “I’m serious about what I said earlier,” she says quietly.

I nod once. “I know.”

“I’m done waiting around to be rescued,” she continues, voice firmer now. “I came here to become a Protector like my father and it’s damn time I use my abilities to help those I care about.”

I know that feeling too.

For a moment, neither of us speaks. Finally, I say, “Then we’ll continue where we left off. See where your power pushes back.”

I reach across the space between us, brushing my fingers against hers. She grips my hand once then she pushes up from her chair, her muscles obviously stiff.

She pauses, hovering near the door like she’s not quite ready to go. I rise to meet her, and lean in, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Shower. Sleep. Whatever you need. I’ll see you this afternoon on the training grounds.”

She nods. “Thank you. For… everything.”

I watch her leave, sensing a change in my heart. There's a calm, unwavering certainty that I'd go wherever she leads—even if it ends up breaking me.

Lilith’s already waiting when I arrive at the training grounds, pacing along the far edge of the field. The fading light casts long streaks across the stone, catching the purple streaks in her braid as it swings behind her.

She looks… better. Not completely rested, but enough to dull the sharp edges of exhaustion she’s been carrying for days.

“You look like you finally slept,” I say as I approach.

She glances over, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. “Yeah. Got in a few hours. Showered, too. Vaughn threatened to sedate me if I didn’t.”

I snort. “Sounds like him.”

“I knew if I went back to my room, I’d crash too hard,” she says. “So I found a bench outside the library. Close enough to run if something happened with Kai.”

My chest tightens. “He’s okay,” I say softly, even though we both know that’s not a guarantee. “Still holding on.”

She swallows hard. “I just… I can’t sit still anymore, Simon.”

“Then don’t,” I say, motioning to the center of the field. “Let’s get to work.”

Lilith rolls her shoulders back and steps into the open, wind tugging at the hem of her black t-shirt. There’s weight in her posture now. Purpose.

“We’ve coaxed your fox and deer out before,” I remind her. “Last semester with my bear. Do you remember what it felt like?” I ask, meeting her eyes.

She nods, lips parting. “I do.”

“We’re going to do that again.”

I extend my hand, palm open. My bear stirs beneath my skin, a low ripple of heat that pulses through my core.

A shimmer of golden smoke threads between my fingers as my Shadow begins to take shape.

It snarls into form beside me, massive and watchful.

Its amber eyes fix on her like it remembers her, too.

My bear pads forward and lowers its head toward Lilith in greeting.

She doesn’t back away.

“Breathe,” I say gently. “Let the bond settle. Then reach for them.”

She hesitates. “What if they don’t come?”

“They will.”

“They didn’t before.”

“You weren’t ready before.”

Lilith puts a hand on her chest and closes her eyes. Her other hand twitches slightly at her side.

For a moment, nothing happens. Then, a faint purple light appears.

Her fox shows up first, ears twitching as it moves around the edge of the circle.

Her deer follows, moving gracefully. Its antlers are wide, and its eyes are gentle but watchful. It steps forward carefully and stops just behind her, standing still.

Lilith opens her eyes and turns slightly to see them both, gasping softly.

“I did it,” she says. “I didn’t expect them to come so easily.”

“I’d say they trust you now,” I reply, feeling a sense of awe. “You’ve earned it.”

Lilith blinks quickly, holding back tears, then takes a slow breath and nods.

Her fox playfully nips at my bear’s ankle. My bear huffs in amusement and pretends to snap back, but he doesn’t really try.

Lilith laughs suddenly, and I realize how much I’ve missed that sound. It’s the first time I’ve heard it in days, maybe longer. It feels light and freeing.

“They’re so different,” she says, still watching her Shadows.

“So are you,” I respond.

Her fox prowls closer, sleek and silent, weaving figure-eights around her legs. Her deer stands a pace behind—majestic and vigilant. Predator and Prey. Two halves of one impossible whole. Their presence hums through the air like a heartbeat—ancient, elemental, hers.

No one’s supposed to be both. But Lilith is. And it doesn’t feel wrong.

It feels inevitable.

I notice Lilith is standing a little straighter. Not like she’s bracing—but like she’s stepping into her own. Like her spine just remembered it could carry what the world said she couldn’t.

The air stirs with her magic, just powerful enough to raise the hairs on my arms. Like her magic is stretching its legs for the first time. Learning how far it can reach. How deep it can root. There’s something thrumming through her now—something sharp and hungry and alive .

I swallow, suddenly aware of how warm it’s gotten. Of how much quieter the clearing feels—like the whole place is holding its breath. Even my bear has gone still, watching her. Like even he knows something is shifting inside her.

“Now we teach you how to move with them,” I say, slowly. “To wield them like an extension of your own will.”

She’s so strong. Stronger than ever. But strength like this—unshaped, untempered—doesn’t always bend.

“Lilith…” I pause. “This bond between you, your Predator, and your Prey is powerful. But power like this? If you force it before it’s ready, it could bite back. Hard.”

She doesn’t bristle or argue. Instead, her gaze lifts to mine, shining with something that almost looks like wonder. Or maybe… relief.

“I know,” she says. “But I’m not afraid of it anymore.”

The words hit deep—like a promise she’s making to herself. And gods, the strength in her could crack mountains.

But this world?

It doesn’t care if she’s strong. Only if she obeys. Because of what she is.

I’m not afraid of her power.

I’m afraid of what they’ll do to her for daring to wield it.

We train until the sun slips below the horizon, until sweat slicks her temples and her shadows flicker and fade from effort. Her focus never breaks. But I see it in her eyes—every time her gaze strays toward the direction of the academy, toward Kai.

Finally, I step forward. “That’s enough for today.”

She exhales, chest heaving, and nods. “I need to check on him.”

“I know.”

I walk with her partway down the path before she slows.

“Go,” I say. “Before Vaughn accuses me of kidnapping you.”

She smiles tiredly. “Thank you, Simon. Really.”

I brush her hand with mine, letting my thumb graze her knuckles. “Anytime.”

She hesitates. And then, surprising us both, she rises onto her toes and presses a soft, sure kiss to my lips. It lingers long enough to ruin me. Then she’s gone.

My fingers lift to my lips, still tingling.

I don’t move. Not yet.

I watch her go, the weight of what just passed between us sinking deep into my bones. When I glance over, my bear is still there. Still watching, like he’s waiting for me to catch up to something he already knows.