The note burned in Evelyn's pocket all day.
Not literally, of course—but the weight of it sat against her hip like a brand. She felt it every time someone walked too close. Every time someone's gaze lingered too long. Every time the whispers about her and Alexander twisted into something more venomous.
You're being watched.
The warning curled through her mind like smoke. She knew who had sent it. Or at least… who had allowed it to be sent. The sigil was the same one Isabella had hidden behind. The same mark Alexander had never quite identified. The same sign that had taunted them both from behind shadows and silk gloves.
Isabella was moving again.
And this time, Evelyn wasn't going to flinch.
After her final class, she didn't go back to her quarters. She walked past the old library, past the northern wall where the ivy grew thick and wild. Past the part of campus where only faculty had access.
She waited until no one was watching before slipping through the side entrance of the east tower—the one Alexander had unlocked for her once, weeks ago.
She remembered the way his voice had sounded when he told her, "You don't need permission to be safe."
Now, she wasn't sure if safety was even on the table anymore.
She found him alone, his office quiet, sleeves rolled, the top buttons of his black shirt undone. His eyes met hers instantly.
"I was going to find you," he said.
"I know," she replied.
His brow lifted. "Something's wrong."
Evelyn didn't speak—she just held out the note.
He took it carefully, read it once, then again. His jaw tightened.
"Isabella?"
"Probably," Evelyn said. "But she's not working alone."
He placed the note down on his desk, the serpent-sigil now facing the sunlight. "This mark… I've seen it before."
"When?" she asked.
He looked up at her, hesitation flickering behind his eyes.
"When I was young. Before I ever came to the Academy. My family crossed paths with an old faction—forgotten now, mostly. Or so we thought. But this mark... it was their calling card."
"What did they want?"
"Influence," Alexander said darkly. "Access to powerful bloodlines. Secrets. Control."
"And now they want me?"
"They want to destroy you." His voice was low. Dangerous. "And I won't let them."
She stepped closer, her voice softer now. "This is bigger than either of us, isn't it?"
He looked at her for a long moment.
"I didn't come here to teach, Evelyn. I came to protect something I thought I'd lost."
She swallowed. "And now?"
His eyes met hers. "Now I protect you. No matter what it costs."
There it was again—that terrifying, grounding certainty in his voice. It wasn't a confession. It wasn't even romantic.
It was a vow.
And it made something inside her twist and settle at the same time.
She nodded. "Then we do this together."
For the first time that day, he allowed himself to smile. Barely.
But it was real.
And the war, whatever form it would take, just became personal.