Page 15

Keane

The throbbing in my temples wouldn’t let up. The wellspring ceremony had stirred something—the way our magic had flowed together, effortless, natural. Nothing like the careful control Uncle’s therapy maintained. Nothing like the strict structure I had been taught my entire life.

I kept telling myself it was nothing. A fluke. An anomaly that would never happen again.

But even now, my portals wavered.

I focused on the book in front of me, trying to drown out the hum of restless magic under my skin.

Then a familiar voice cut through my thoughts.

“There you are,” Cyrus said, stepping into the aisle. His presence made the air feel tight, charged. “Hiding in the library again?”

I hesitated. Just for a moment.

Elio appeared a second later, lounging against the side of my table with practiced ease, his fingers idly spinning his rings. “Now, now. Is that any way to treat old friends?”

I turned a page. Didn’t look up. Didn’t react.

We’d been close once. Growing up, they were the only people who understood what it meant to be raised as an heir—what it meant to carry expectations like shackles. But after my parents died, everything changed. The therapy started. The distance grew.

I should say something. A joke. A quip. Instead, I turned another page.

Cyrus exhaled slowly, heat radiating from him in deliberate waves. Ember shifted on his shoulder, feathers flickering between gold and embers. “Tell me this. What happened to observing and advising with the half-breed situation?”

“She’s an heir,” I said, my voice steady. “Like us.”

“Like us?” Elio’s laugh held no warmth. He leaned in, lowering his voice just enough to feel conspiratorial. “Darling, we’ve known each other too long for that little performance. What is it really?”

I forced my expression blank.

What could I say? That I saw something of myself in her? That the way she fought to keep control, the way she resisted their game, reminded me of my own desperate attempts to hold onto who I was? That I wanted to protect her, but I was too much of a coward to do it?

No.

Instead, I said nothing.

Elio’s smirk sharpened like he could hear the words I refused to say.

“The wellspring showed us something,” he continued smoothly. “Something that has our parents very… concerned.”

Cyrus folded his arms. “Magic needs structure. Control. Not whatever that was.”

The words echoed Uncle’s lessons too closely. My head throbbed harder.

Elio’s gaze turned assessing. “Our parents have been clear.” A pause. “She doesn’t belong here. And you, darling , need to remember where your loyalties lie.”

Cyrus was less theatrical about it. He just watched me carefully. “Unless there’s some reason you’re so invested in helping her?”

I swallowed.

“No,” I said finally. “No reason.”

The silence stretched.

Cyrus studied me a moment longer. Then, with a curt nod, he stood. “Then stay out of our way. Let us handle the half-breed problem.”

Elio didn’t follow immediately. He lingered, watching me like he expected me to say something else. His chameleon flickered through shifting shades of violet—curious, amused, waiting.

“Poor thing,” Elio murmured. “You really do try so hard to stay neutral.”

I didn’t answer.

They left. The absence of their presence should have been a relief, but instead, it felt like something closing around my throat.

Wisp pressed against my leg, her spectral tail curling around my ankle. Her form flickered with unease.

I closed my book. Not that I’d absorbed a word.

Their words echoed louder than I wanted to admit. She doesn’t belong here. Stay out of our way. Where do your loyalties lie?

My temples throbbed. The pain had gone from dull to blinding, like my magic was fighting against the rules meant to keep it caged.

I should’ve said something. Should’ve stopped them.

But I hadn’t.

Wisp leaned into me, solid and cold. She didn’t speak—she didn’t need to. She knew.

I stared at the closed pages in front of me, vision blurring.

And told myself it didn’t matter.

That keeping control was more important than doing the right thing.

That silence wasn’t the same as betrayal.

I told myself that.

And tried to believe it.