The moon hung low over the eastern towers of the Academy as Evelyn stepped into the forgotten archives beneath the library.
Only faculty and approved researchers were allowed this deep. But Caelan had a key—and a knack for charming regulations into silence.
"Are you sure this is where we'll find it?" Evelyn asked as her boots echoed on the ancient stone.
Caelan's smile flashed in the gloom. "Sigils like that one? They're old magic. Older than most families here want to admit. If it's documented anywhere, it's here."
They moved between shelves coated in dust and neglect, the air thick with the weight of forgotten power. Caelan handed her a lantern, and she caught the soft brush of his fingers against hers.
"Careful," he said, his tone low. "These halls remember more than they should."
Evelyn raised an eyebrow. "You're not trying to scare me, are you?"
"Wouldn't dare." He grinned, but there was something gentler in his gaze this time. Something unguarded. "I know better."
She turned away too quickly.
They combed through folios and sealed tomes, speaking in hushed tones. Then—finally—Caelan pulled a thick, leather-bound volume from the shelf.
The page was brittle, marked with fading ink and a single serpent coiled around a sword.
Evelyn leaned closer. "That's it."
Caelan nodded grimly. "They called themselves The Thirteenth Veil. Thought long dead. Disbanded after the last war between the bloodlines. But looks like they've reassembled. Quietly. And they've chosen you as their next disruption."
Evelyn's breath caught.
She reached for the page, but Caelan gently touched her wrist. "Evelyn."
She looked at him.
His voice was low. "You don't have to face this alone. No matter what Valerius says or how he looks at you—I'm not going anywhere. Not unless you ask me to."
There was no pressure in his tone, but something vulnerable flickered in his expression.
Evelyn opened her mouth to reply—
And froze as she heard the shift of footsteps behind them.
She turned—and there he was.
Alexander.
His dark coat trailed slightly from the rain, and his expression… unreadable.
He looked at the sigil. At the page. At Caelan's hand still resting near Evelyn's.
Then his voice, calm and sharp: "You found them."
Evelyn's heart beat faster.
"We did," she said, lifting her chin. "They're older than we thought. And they're not working alone."
Alexander nodded once, stepping closer. "Then we end this. We smoke them out."
Caelan's voice was soft but pointed. "Together?"
Alexander's eyes flicked to Evelyn. "However she wants."
A beat of silence.
Evelyn looked between the two men—one carved of shadows and restraint, the other sunlight laced with loyalty—and something inside her shifted.
She had power now. Allies. And choices.
But with that power came the one thing she hadn't counted on.
The burden of being wanted.