Page 24

Chapter

Nineteen

Bloom

Trespassing

S ebastian had been conspicuously absent between classes. Sindy, who claimed to be a loner yet knew everything about the academy, informed me third-years like Sebastian barely attended lectures. The faculty apparently let him roam free.

With a purpose in mind, I took the U-shaped path past the Fae Copse, skirted the Elysian training grounds, and wove through shopfronts until Kingsley Tower rose before me.

Though similarly gothic to Ravencrux’s domain, Kingsley Tower seemed larger, its stones weathered ash rather than obsidian. It didn’t just rise but loomed, its very silhouette a declaration of unassailable privilege.

Now came the real challenge: entry. Every tower pulsed with wards that demanded an invitation. Lingering in the shadowed courtyard, I weighed my limited options.

I was moments from shouting Sebastian’s name when movement flickered at the edge of my vision.

A group of women in high-collared Kingsley gowns—deep blue with gold-threaded cuffs—approached the tower , their laughter bouncing off the stone walls.

Behind them, three male students in tailored suits hurried toward the open sangria-colored door, an invitation gleaming in the twilight.

An idea sparked. Reckless, but at Forsaken Academy, hesitation got you nothing but dead.

I timed my steps like a thief, slipping between the groups with my chin tucked low. My breathing steadied into the rhythm of belonging as I matched their pace. The first group crossed the threshold; I followed half a breath behind, close enough to smell their cologne.

The wards struck like a whip of molten glass. Magic needled through every pore, setting my nerves ablaze. I bit down hard on a gasp. Pain was an old acquaintance by now.

Just when I thought it would fling me into the courtyard, the pressure broke. Only a phantom itch remained between my shoulder blades.

I ducked immediately to the side of the hall, pressing my back against the cold stone wall, trying to become invisible as the students streamed past.

Then I looked up and forgot how to breathe.

Kingsley Tower’s interior was a revelation, a rebellion against its austere exterior.

The ceiling stretched impossibly high, supported by columns the color of ocean.

Enchanted lights danced across gold-veined marble floors, each step scattering constellations underfoot.

Where Ravencrux Tower thrived in darkness, this place bathed in lavishness, its residents moving with the languid confidence of those who’d never been denied anything.

I’d breached the tower, but finding Sebastian in this gilded labyrinth would be another challenge. The risk of trespassing in elite territory prickled down my spine, but my desperate need for answers outweighed caution.

Students clustered around an upscale bar, their laughter ringing sharply.

Others lounged across sapphire velvet chaises, sipping drinks that shimmered.

Pressing myself against the wall to blend into the shadows, I considered which face might harbor the least hostility for me to approach when a familiar figure turned.

Devon, the boy who volunteered answers in class like they were currency, froze mid-step, his gaze snagging on theasymmetrical mauve folds of my Ravencrux gown.

Shit.

“You! Ravencrux trash.” His pronouncement sliced through the murmur of conversation.

The hall stilled. Glasses halted mid-sip. Dozens of eyes swiveled toward me, raking over thecharcoal embroidery curling along my bodice , a blatant violation of Kingsley’s blue-and-gold dominion.

Devon advanced, his loafers clicking against the star-speckled floor.

“How the hell did you get in?” His lip curled.

I blinked uncertainly. “I…uh…followed you guys in.”

“Impossible!” Another step closer. “Kingsley wards don’t permit outsiders. Especially not from lesser houses.”

His voice rose higher with each syllable. The semicircle tightened around me, cutting off retreat. My shoulder blades dug into unyielding stone as I raised my hands. Wind gathered at my fingertips. Could I summon enough force to throw them off if they attacked me?

One of Angelina’s wingwomen shoved forward. “She’s the one who fought Angelina!”

A sharp-nosed girl sneered. “Maybe she killed her. Maybe she’s here to pick her next victim.”

The circle closed in on me. Enchanted light glinted off blades. My face paled in fear.

My palms sparked with gathering current. I hoped it would be enough. One reckless choice had led me here. How many more would I make for Ravencrux?

“Did you hear yourself? You sound crazy,” I said over their glares, keeping my voice steady despite my hammering pulse. “I just want to talk to…”

“Ah, Bloom! There you are.”

The voice rolled down from above. The crowd stilled, heads snapping upward as if pulled by strings. Sebastian appeared at the top of the spiraling marble staircase. His blond hair fell in perfect waves around a face that belonged on Renaissance paintings.

He descended with effortless grace, his midnight blue jacket, stitched with gold, hugging his broad shoulders that belonged on a classical statue. The students parted before him.

“I invited her.”

“You brought a Ravencrux rat here? After Angelina?” the wingwoman spat.

Sebastian’s smile turned sharper than a blade. “Since when do I explain myself to you?”

The girl recoiled, shrinking behind Devon like a child hiding from a storm.

Sebastian turned on the crowd, his voice dripping with disdain. “Don’t you have studies to attend to? I’m certain Professor Kingsley would love to hear how his students spend their evenings gossiping like common scullery maids.” He waved a dismissive hand. “Now get the fuck out.”

The group dispersed like startled birds, some muttering curses, others shooting me angry looks over their shoulders as they retreated.

“Territorial idiots,” Sebastian said in annoyance.

I released a breath, the current between my palms vanishing. “Thank you,” I said, keeping my voice low. Relief warred with suspicion—his timing felt too perfect. “How did you know I was here?”

A conspiratorial wink. “Let’s say I have ways of knowing who crosses my threshold.” He offered his arm with theatrical gallantry. “Come, I’ll give you the grand tour. My suite has the best view in the academy and total privacy.”

I took a deliberate step back. “I’d rather stay somewhere public.”

A shadow flickered across his face, too brief to decipher. Disappointment? Calculation? The rumors swirling around me were damaging enough without adding “Sebastian’s latest conquest” to the list if I went to his room.

“I just have a few questions,” I said, nodding toward a window-side booth. “That corner looks perfect.”

The alcove offered semi-privacy—visible to passersby but shielded from eavesdropping.

Sebastian’s golden lashes lowered. “You don’t want somewhere more private?” The enchanted chandeliers above caught his brilliant smile, weaving that dangerous charm that had ensnared so many others. I felt its pull like a physical punch, the magic that made him irresistible.

“You can soundproof the air around us,” I countered.

His head tilted, intrigue flashing in his eyes. My resistance seemed only to fascinate him more. “What will it take to earn your trust, Bloom? I am your friend.”

“Friendship doesn’t happen overnight,” I replied.

Yet Sindy and I had bonded instantly.

Sebastian’s answering smile could have powered the tower’s lights. No wonder legions followed him. “Then I’ll just have to prove myself.”

He guided me to the booth before turning on the lingering students. “Out. All of you. Upstairs or elsewhere. Now.”

The bar emptied with grudging obedience. A couple students cast murderous glances my way, the intruder who’d stolen their king’s attention. Within sixty seconds, the hall stood deserted.

This wasn’t just privilege. This was power rivaling the authority of the professors.

We settled into the booth. With a casual wave of his hand, Sebastian conjured the soundproofing spell, a faint shimmer in the air surrounding us. A hush fell over our conversation.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” He lounged against the cushions, every movement calculated ease. “My door’s always open for you, you know.”

I bypassed the pleasantries. Social graces wouldn’t solve murders or protect potential victims. “You said Ravencrux has a preference for redheads,” I began, my ribs tightening around my lungs. “What exactly did you mean?”

Sebastian’s smile dissolved, replaced by grim satisfaction, as though he’d been waiting for precisely this question. “I’m glad you came to me for the truth, Bloom.”

He opened his palm, and a folder materialized from the air. No spell work. Just raw, effortless power.

From the folder, Sebastian extracted a photograph and slid it across the table, fingers clinging to its edge as though reluctant to fully release it. When I leaned in, the breath froze in my lungs. The world stopped.

A woman stared up, vacant and lifeless. Vibrant red hair fanned across stone steps like spilled wine, blood pooling beneath her. But it was the face that stole my breath—my cheekbones, my lips, my features. It was as though I was looking at my own corpse.

My hand flew to my throat, trembling fingers on my racing pulse to reassure myself I was still alive.

“What the—” The word cracked.

“One of Ravencrux’s victims.” Sebastian monitored my reaction like a scientist observing a reaction.

I examined the photograph’s yellowed edges, the newsprint texture. Evidence, not prophecy. The distinction steadied me.

Sebastian’s fingers tapped the photograph’s bottom edge. “This came from Ravencrux’s private collection.”

The implication struck like a dagger between ribs. “A…souvenir?”

Sebastian looked grim, his beautiful face hardening. “A trophy from an immortal serial killer.”

My fingernails bit into my palms. “How did you get this?” I asked as I stared at the dead woman’s face, unable to tear my eyes away.