Page 16

The SUV slid through Messana’s streets and my grip on the steering wheel was tighter than it should have been.

But I was on edge.

Bastian lounged in the passenger seat, his head tilted back against the headrest, and an infuriating smirk on his lips. He looked at ease, as if we were merely out for a Sunday drive instead of barreling toward Messana Academy with a trunk full of traitors.

To make matters worse—it was midday.

Beside me, Bastian stretched and set one of his boots against the dash. “Lucian’s going to get a kick out of this,” he said. “We’ve really outdone ourselves—” His tone was light, almost musical, but there was an undertone that made my skin crawl.

“Shut up,” I replied, my tone clipped. It was infuriating how nonchalant he could be. ”And get your fucking boot off the dash.”

Bastian chuckled, and I noticed the grim smear of wetness left behind as he moved his foot.

I hated that we had to make such a show of force in broad daylight.

But Bastian had to shoot off his fucking mouth and make everything worse.

Now Lucian wanted results—concrete results—not smoke and shadows.

That meant executing his demands like cursed marionettes.

And I fucking hated it.

Every minute we wasted our time on this shit took us farther away from our goals—

Bastian knew that.

Which made me wonder if he was doing this on purpose.

Would he dare?

“Lighten up,” Bastian continued, unfazed by my irritation. “The two in the back will talk. I need names. And I’m going to get them.” He set his hands behind his head. “Besides, I think Lucian will be pleased—” Out of the corner of my eye I could see his head turn as he looked over at me. Movement in the back seat drew my attention. Muffled sounds from the hooded figures tied up like discarded dolls in the trunk. We’d had a busy morning, one I didn’t care to dwell on.

It wouldn’t be long before news of what had happened would sweep through Messana.

We hadn’t been subtle.

“Stop talking,” I snapped again and forced myself to focus on the road ahead.

“Just imagine the look on Lucian’s face when we present our little gifts,” Bastian said with a satisfied sigh. “He’ll trust us after this.”

“Have you lost your mind?” I hissed.

Bastian let out a derisive snort. “You think I give a shit about talking in front of those traitors? They won’t live long enough to say anything to anyone—”

I thought I heard a muffled moan at those words.

Dumb bastards.

They should have known they wouldn’t survive this.

The road was familiar—but not for the right reasons.

I could remember very clearly the last time I’d driven it and each second tightened the knot in my chest.

“You’re no fun at all, Titus.”

Bastian’s voice was teasing—no, it was mockery—and I clenched my jaw as fury simmered just beneath the surface.

“Neither are the consequences if you keep flapping your mouth.”

“Relax! We’re making history here!” He laughed, carefree and infuriatingly alive.

The sound was chilling.

If Bastian was laughing, it wasn’t a good thing.

As we approached the imposing gates of Messana Academy, I took a deep breath. The walls loomed high, a fortress of secrets. The SUV passed through the wards and Bastian sat up a little straighter and cracked his neck.

“Their wards are still shit,” he muttered.

He wasn’t wrong.

The Sages were arrogant.

Especially within the comfort of their hallowed halls.

Revered and sanctified.

Lies.

Weakness.

Corruption.

That was all that remained behind those stone walls.

“How long has it been?” Bastian asked.

“You know exactly how long it’s been,” I growled.

Bastian laughed at that, but at least he didn’t say anything else as the SUV swept through the wrought-iron gates and into the expansive courtyard in front of Messana Academy’s ancient buildings.

“Has it always been this ugly?” Bastian mused. “They should have knocked it down years ago…”

With one last glare at my brother, I pulled the SUV to a stop and Bastian rocked in his seat. In the trunk, there was a thud and a chorus of muffled groans as our prisoners were jostled around.

“Pathetic,” Bastian muttered as he opened his door and stepped out into the sunshine.

The door slammed shut, and I gritted my teeth as I opened my door and slid out of the driver’s seat.

I fucking hated this place.

“Hurry up,” Bastian called over his shoulder. He was already halfway across the grass.

Fuck.

I strode after him, but I didn’t run. Bastian’s long strides carried him quickly toward the Academy’s main building.

The ancient structure clawed at the sky, its familiar red-brown stonework had always reminded me of dried blood in the glaring afternoon light.

The main doors were an elaborate atrocity of stained glass—too bright and colorful against the grim facade, like flowers on a grave—and they loomed ahead of us as Bastian moved with infuriating ease across the courtyard.

He was too fucking excited about this.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and followed him, ignoring the curious stares from the clusters of uniformed students we passed. Each pair of eyes widened in fear, then averted quickly as murmurs rippled around us.

“They have stained glass now?” Bastian called back to me as he gestured toward the main doors. “Pretentious bastards.”

We arrived at the doors and I reached for the burnished handle, but before my fingers could close around it, Bastian stepped forward and kicked the doors open with a resounding crash.

“Coming through!” he shouted and his voice bounced off high ceilings as we stormed inside.

The entrance hall was just as I remembered—grandiose and echoing with self-importance. Students froze mid-stride and their papers fluttered to the polished parquet floor like startled birds. Faculty members looked up from their hushed conversations. Their faces were pale and full of confusion at seeing us.

“Hot crowd,” Bastian snarked.

I kept my gaze fixed ahead, scanning the sea of students and faculty who parted like waves before us.

“Look at them— Lambs ready for slaughter!” Bastian’s laughter rang out, rich and melodic, but laced with something darker—

“Shut. Your. Mouth,” I growled. “We have work to do.”

No one moved to stop us and we strode through the hallway toward the faculty wing.

“Why so serious, Titus?” Bastian teased as he glanced back at me with those pale, piercing eyes that were too much like Lucian’s. “This is what we’ve been waiting for.” He gestured derisively at the portraits of stern-faced headmasters that lined the walls. “It’s time we reminded these fucks what actual power looks like. And what happens to oath breakers.”

I clenched my jaw and suppressed the urge to snap at him again.

As much as I loathed this spectacle, I couldn’t deny the thrill that surged through me—he wasn’t wrong. The Academy deserved what was coming to them. I only wish it had happened sooner.

“Get yourself under control,” I warned in a low voice. “This isn’t just about showmanship. Lucian expects results, and I intend to deliver.”

“We are going to deliver,” he snapped. “Or have you forgotten who found out—”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“Good.”

The polished oak door loomed ahead, heavy and imposing. Bastian, ever the performer, paused for only a moment before he flexed his fingers and leaned forward to knock with a deliberately gentle tap against the dark wood. A mockery of politeness. The sound echoed, and I shoved down the dark memories that rose in my mind.

I didn’t care if the Elder Ireni had really been a betrayer.

All I cared about was seeing him punished.

“You’re wasting time,” I growled.

“Fine, fine,” Bastian muttered.

The black smoke of his magic poured from his fingertips and wound through the keyhole and around the edges of the door.

A smile flitted over Bastian’s angelic features as he clenched his fist and his magic tightened.

I barely had time to raise my arm to shield my face before the headmaster’s door exploded inward.

Dust and splinters rained down, and I was already moving through the wreckage.

Behind me, Bastian’s laughter rang sharp and clear.

The study was dark despite the sunlight spilling in from the shattered hallway. Shelves lined with ornate leather tomes clung to the walls, and a large mahogany desk sat like a monument to arrogance in the center of the room.

Red faced with anger, Elder Ireni Ubaris rose from behind it. His robes were tangled and, as recognition dawned on him, his eyes widened with incredulous terror.

“Tiberius Romano!” He spat my birth name like a curse as he staggered to his feet. “I should have known—”

“You should have,” Bastian said, cutting him off as he stepped over a smoldering piece of door frame. “But don’t insult us by pretending you don’t know why we’re here, Headmaster.”

Bastian’s magic coiled through the air, an inky serpent that wound its way toward the old man with predatory precision.

“Wait!” The old man’s voice cracked with desperation. “There must be some mistake—I haven’t—”

“Save your breath,” I said coldly.

My brother’s magic struck and wrapped around the Elder’s wrists like vipers as he screamed—a sound that cut through me in a way I refused to acknowledge. It was an echo of something older. Something I couldn’t afford to remember.

“Get on with it,” I snapped.

Bastian shot me a look but didn’t argue. The smoke twisted tighter, binding our captive until he collapsed under its weight with a strangled cry.

“Now, now,” Bastian said, as his magic tugged the old man forward. The headmaster stumbled and then fell to the ground with an undignified crash.

Pulled along by the black smoke, the old man slid across the dark parquet floor and came to a stop at Bastian’s feet.

Bastian crouched down to look at his captive. His pale eyes glinted with malice. “You should be happy to see us. We’ve come bearing news, delightful news! You see, our father has decided it’s time for a little... restructuring at Messana Academy.” He punctuated his statement with a casual wave of his hand, as if discussing the weather.

“You have no authority here,” the fallen Sage choked out.

“Ah, but that’s where you’re mistaken,” I interjected.

“Authority comes in many forms,” Bastian continued casually. “But surely, headmaster, you would agree that traitors can be afforded no such courtesy.”

I wasn’t a question.

“Your threats are meaningless,” Elder Ubaris insisted, but his composure had already slipped through his fingers like grains of sand.

Bastian let out a chuckle as he straightened.

I looked down at the old man and felt nothing but contempt for him. A thin line of blood trickled down from his hairline and tracked down his withered cheek.

“Meaningless?” I said. “You mistake our intentions. We’re not here to threaten you, old man—you already know what’s waiting for you.”

Bastian smirked at the old man’s futile resistance.

“You can’t just—” The Elder’s voice cracked, a hint of panic threaded through his voice.

“Can’t just what?” I interrupted. “Take everything you cherish away? Remove your arrogant old ass from your seat? Consider this a matter of perspective—”

“From a certain point of view,” Bastian quipped, “you’re fucked!”

He was enjoying this too much.

Maybe I should, too.

“Enough!” The old man barked, but his command lacked conviction and his shoulders slumped as he realized he couldn’t bully us the way he had when we were children. He let out a groan as Bastian’s magic wound tighter around him and dragged him to his feet. His toes dragged on the polished floor as he came level with us.

“Ah, there’s the resignation we were waiting for,” Bastian mused, his voice lilting with mockery. “You see, Headmaster? That wasn’t so hard!”

I felt a surge of satisfaction as the man I’d feared for so many years couldn’t meet our eyes.

Good.

“Shall we?” Bastian asked no one in particular.

The Elder didn’t look up.

“Splendid!” Bastian chirped, clapping his hands together with feigned enthusiasm. His eyes danced with a delight that bordered on sadistic, and for a moment, I wondered if Bastian had finally lost his mind. “Such a wise choice! I knew you had it in you.”

I glared at my brother, but Bastian ignored me and turned on his heel and walked toward the ruined doorway.

The headmaster floated behind us, suspended by Bastian’s ink black smoke magic.

Brave onlookers had gathered to see what the commotion was.

Wide-eyed students scattered from the doorway as we approached, and as we stepped out into the corridor, the once-still air was filled with choked gasps. Students and faculty alike halted their conversations, wide eyes turning toward us, drawn by the spectacle unfolding before them. Murmurs swept through the crowd like ripples across water—fearful whispers and cries of disbelief.

“What’s happening?” A girl clutched her friend’s arm, her knuckles white against the fabric of her sleeve.

“Why are they here? What do they want?” A boy leaned forward as he peered past the heads that blocked his view.

Their fear was a rich, intoxicating tension that swirled around us.

It made me smile, just a little.

They were witnessing a power play, and I reveled in the knowledge that we were planting seeds of rebellion in this place, sowing doubt and unrest among the students who dared to look upon us.

Bastian flashed a grin over his shoulder at the growing crowd, charming yet sinister. “Don’t mind us!” he called out, his voice dripping with mockery. “Just taking our esteemed headmaster on a little field trip!”

Elder Ireni floated behind us, a whipped dog on a leash. Bound by magic, his shoulders slumped and blood dried in his straggling beard.

He hadn’t even tried to fight us.

I wondered if they knew.

I wondered what they would think of their fearsome headmaster if they knew what he had given away for power—and what power was that? He’d been helpless.

This was more than just about us; it was about shaping the future of Messana Academy and leaving a mark that would not easily fade.

“Tell everyone,” Bastian called out as we approached the main doors.

The whispers behind us swelled and hung in the air like smoke from a dying fire.

“Is he really going to let them do this?” someone hissed.

“Look at him—he’s finished,” another replied.

Bastian walked beside me, his grin wide and wicked as he soaked in the spectacle. It was intoxicating to watch their reactions. No one ever stood against the Sages—and here we were, humiliating them. And we’d been met with only the barest hint of resistance.

With each glance cast our way, I saw not just fear in the eyes of the gathered students, but the flicker of something deeper—curiosity, even defiance… the next generation of Sages and power brokers in Messana.

They wouldn’t belong to Sages for much longer.

“This is how your heroes fall,” Bastian called out. “Elder Ireni Ubaris, your beloved headmaster, is an example —” He paused for dramatic effect and the entire room seemed to hold its breath. Bastian loved drama. “Learn from his mistakes!” he cried. “Don’t make oaths if you intend to break them!”

A glance over my shoulder was enough to make me smile. Elder Ireni’s face twisted in a grimace, a futile attempt to mask the sharpness of his defeat. I savored the sight of him, the once-proud figure now reduced to a shell of his former self. His toes dragged over the polished floor like a prisoner on death row.

“Try to act dignified,” I muttered, leaning closer so only he could hear. “You wouldn’t want them to think that you went down without a fight.”

The old man’s jaw tightened, and for a fleeting moment, I saw the spark of defiance flare in his red-rimmed eyes. But it dimmed quickly, snuffed out by the reality of his situation. He knew what awaited him and I had a sense that he had already resigned himself to this fate.

His shoulders slumped even lower, and I could almost taste his resignation.

Lucian would be disappointed.

I turned my attention back to the crowd and the thickness of the terrified silence that enveloped the hall.

Enough of this.

I had no intention of walking out of here without making a mess.

“Don’t keep them waiting,” Bastian said.

I halted in my steps and the Elder floated past me and the black smoke of Bastian’s magic swirled around him, tightening and writhing around his limbs. He glanced in my direction and his eyes were wide.

“Please—”

“Shut the fuck up,” I snarled.

Bastian chuckled and reared one arm back to hurl a projectile of black tinged power at the gaudy stained glass doors. A rumble shook the building as the doors shattered in a shower of rainbow shards that exploded out onto the lawn. Screams echoed in the hall as I channeled my power into pale green projectiles that I hurled at the walls of the great hall. Portraits of headmasters and powerful Sages who had walked these halls before I’d been born.

Fuck all of them.

Liars.

Manipulators.

Corruptors.

Abusers.

Weaklings.

An explosion for each sin.

Debris rained down onto the crowd of onlookers who screamed and ran for the exits—as far away from us as possible.

Bastian dragged the headmaster through the ruined doors as I laid waste to the entrance hall.

The walls shook, and I felt the familiar thrum of power as it flooded through me.

We were being reckless, but I didn’t care.

Not right now.

Not after what they had done.

Today would be a reminder to the Sages and their ilk that we weren’t afraid to destroy them.

It took only minutes to empty the place. Panic in every eye. Fear in every scream.

Good.

News of this was going to spread far and fast.

And we wanted it to.

Rubble littered the floor, and my boots crunched over it as I finally followed Bastian and our captive out into the courtyard. The sun blazed overhead. Too bright. Too fucking bright.

Bastian waited on the grass. The once proud Sage was limp and silent behind him. My lip curled as I glared at him.

How had I ever been afraid of this pathetic roach?

I crossed the courtyard and ignored the dozens of eyes that watched with horror from the windows of Messana Academy’s ancient buildings.

“Satisfied?” Bastian asked with a grin.

“Just tying up loose ends,” I muttered as I walked past him, and Bastian snorted as he followed me and we walked across the courtyard toward the SUV.

“Well then,” he said. “I guess it’s time to go home.”

I opened the trunk.

The two figures bound inside looked up with unfocused eyes. The others we’d taken were of no real importance, but they had enough power and position to make a statement. Scorched duct tape covered their mouths, and they winced as light streamed into the space.

“Make room!”

Bastian didn’t bother being gentle as he shoved the Elder in with them.

“We’re going to have plenty to report,” Bastian said, as he slammed the trunk shut and walked around to the passenger seat.

I looked back at the Academy, and a smile tugged at my lips as I watched green tinged black smoke rise from the ruined hall.

Screams and the sound of alarms and bells echoed in the stillness of the early afternoon and figures in black robes ran across the campus like panicked birds in flight.

We had delivered our message, and it would spread like wildfire—Lucian hadn’t asked for this, but he’d relish it.

He’d probably pretend it had been his intention all along.

But this wasn’t his plan.

It was mine .

Ours.

I wanted Lucian reactive.

I wanted him on edge.

This would push him closer to that weakness.

I needed him to make a mistake.

My brothers should have fallen into line.

But Bastian had been more unpredictable than usual.

And Valen— he was too sentimental.

I wasn’t sure if I could trust them.

Especially with Avril.

Bastian slapped his hand against the side of his door. “Titus, let’s go!”

I walked around to the driver’s side and wrenched open the door.

Avril was another problem.

I wasn’t sure if I could trust her, either.

“Go, go, go!” Bastian urged. “They’re going to reset the wards—”

Shit.

The SUV roared to life, and I stomped on the gas. The SUV fishtailed in the gravel as we pulled away and tore back toward the wrought-iron gates.

“They’re closing,” Bastian hooted. “Step on it!”

“What are you—”

But Bastian had already manoeuvred his long torso out the passenger window. His magic swirled around his forearms and he let out a wild cry as he launched a ball of dark smoke and flame at the steadily closing gates.

I kept my foot on the gas and my hands tight on the wheel as the projectile struck and an explosion split the air and reverberated through the SUV. The gates blew apart with a dark flash and we barreled through the wreckage without slowing.

Bastian whooped as he ducked back inside. “That was fucking perfect!”

The wards shimmered but didn’t stop us—they were too slow.

Always too slow.

Bastian’s laughter was strange in my ears and the academy shrank in the rearview mirror, a smudge of smoke against the bright horizon. I felt the tightness in my chest loosen as we sped further away.

“We’ll have the entire Sages Council breathing down our necks now,” I said flatly.

Bastian kicked his feet up on the dash again, leaving streaks of soot and masonry dust this time. “Exactly. They’ll be too busy scrambling to focus on anything else. Lucian will have no choice but to act now.”

I grimaced. We’d made a spectacle and Bastian was right—there was no way the Council would stand for what we’d done. Lucian would be forced to respond, and that was the opening I needed.

But there was too much that could go wrong.

And too many players.

“You’re going to get wrinkles if you don’t stop frowning,” Bastian taunted. “This happened exactly as we planned. Maybe better.” He brushed a hand through his curls and leaned back against the headrest. “We won, Titus. You don’t need to look so worried.”

“I’m not worried,” I shot back. “I just know how quickly a plan can fall apart.”

“See, that’s where you and I differ, brother.”

I glanced over. I didn’t like the way he’d said that. “Meaning?”

“I can’t wait to find out what happens next,” he said with a grin.

The gleam in his eyes was unsettling. I’d seen it before, and it never ended well.