Julia was in a panic.
At first, she had thought the news was just some twisted joke. A cruel rumor meant to stir drama or revive old gossip. But then the photos started circulating. Blurry at first, then clearer. His face. His body. His eyes.
And she knew.
While others hesitated and speculated, she had no doubt. She had been by his side since she was five years old, raised and trained to be his companion. The loyal friend. The support the Seventh Prince would always lean on. She had played the role for years. Quiet. Dutiful. Obedient.
She had hated every second of it.
Cain had been a weight chained to her ankle. A title wrapped around her throat. She had never been allowed to live for herself. Not when everything she did was meant to shape her into the perfect shadow for a boy she never even liked.
So when the opportunity came, she took it.
Abel had been the one to drive the blade into Cain's back. She still remembered the wet sound of it sinking in. She remembered the way Cain turned, wide-eyed, in confusion, the betrayal still dawning on him.
And she had laughed.
They both had.
She had waited years for that moment. And when he collapsed near the edge, bleeding and helpless, she hadn't hesitated. A single word. A burst of magic. And his body was gone, swallowed by the abyss below.
They had thought it was done.
Abel had rewritten the story. She had played her part. Tears. Sobs. A trembling voice as she spoke of a sudden dungeon collapse and Cain's final act of bravery.
She had watched as people called Abel a hero.
She had smiled as she was praised for her strength.
And now, everything was falling apart.
He had come back.
Julia sat on the edge of her bed, her hands clenched in her lap. Her nails dug into her skin as she stared at the floor, trying to breathe.
The Cain who returned was not the one she had known. The boy she helped betray was gone. In his place stood something else. Something stronger. Sharper. Something dangerous.
And he remembered. She saw it in his eyes.
He remembered everything.
A sharp knock slammed into her door again.
Then another. Faster. More frantic.
"Julia," Abel hissed, his voice on the verge of breaking. "Open the door. Please. We need to talk."
She didn't answer.
Inside her room, Julia stood with her back to the door, hands pressed over her mouth as if that might muffle the sound of her heartbeat. It was racing. Slamming against her ribs like a prisoner trying to escape.
"I saw the pictures," Abel said. "He's alive. Cain is alive."
He started to pace outside, boots scuffing against the stone.
"This can't be real. They said the dungeon was sealed. They said no one could survive that fall. He should be dead. He was supposed to be dead."
Julia pressed her eyes shut. She had known from the moment she saw his face that everything had gone wrong.
A pause.
Then Abel's voice dropped to a whisper, raw and full of fear.
"You know what they'll do to us, right? This isn't just a mistake. This is treason. It's attempted murder against a prince. That's death. They hang people for this. They burn people for this."
Another sharp knock. Desperation.
"Open the door, Julia. We have to figure something out. We need to talk before someone comes asking questions."
Silence.
Her body trembled, but she said nothing.
Outside, Abel's breathing quickened. There was a beat of stunned quiet.
Then anger.
"You should have made sure," he snapped. "You're the one who used the spell. You're the one who knocked him off the cliff. I told you to finish it. I told you to be certain."
His voice cracked.
"But you hesitated. You hesitated, and now he's alive. And if he talks, we're dead. Do you get that? Dead."
Another silence stretched out between them.
"I'm not going down for this," Abel said, voice low and shaking. "If he names names, I swear, I'll drag you down with me."
His footsteps stormed away, fast and uneven.
Julia stayed where she was, unmoving, her eyes still fixed on the door.
Cain was alive.
And now it was only a matter of time.
Cain's return to his dorm was an eventful one, to say the least. Walking through the academy halls wearing nothing but a professor's cloak wasn't exactly how he imagined making a comeback. Every step brought more whispers, more stares. Students leaned in close to one another, their voices hushed and urgent as he passed.
Some gasped. Others froze. Many simply stepped out of the way, giving him a wide berth as if he were something untouchable.
He ignored them.
His bare feet padded softly against the polished floor. The cloak rustled around his ankles, loose and heavy with the weight of borrowed dignity. He kept his gaze forward, face unreadable, though every fiber of him was alert. Watching. Listening.
Had he really changed that much?
His reflection in passing windows told a different story than the one people remembered. Cain saw it. The sharper jawline. The subtle glow in his eyes. The muscle that now clung to his frame like armor. But beneath all that, he still felt like him. Still felt the lingering ache of betrayal. Still felt the cold.
Still remembered the sound of their laughter.
He reached the familiar wing of the dormitory and turned the final corner, expecting silence. Solitude.
Instead, he found her.
Anna Storm stood in front of Cain's dorm room, arms crossed over her chest, her sharp gaze locked onto the figure approaching her.
At first, she didn't believe it. The rumors had spread like wildfire across the academy. A man had emerged from the sealed Twisted Grove Dungeon. Naked. Changed. Claiming to be Prince Cain Sinthorne.
But now, seeing him with her own eyes, she understood why the academy was in an uproar.
His face was familiar, but not the same. He stood taller somehow. His presence felt heavier. Stronger. He moved with quiet confidence, and the air around him seemed to ripple, as if even the light was unsure how to rest on him.
Cain paused a few feet away from her.
Anna stepped forward without a word, closing the distance.
And then, she did something Cain never expected.
She hugged him.
Her arms wrapped around his shoulders, warm and firm, pulling him into her. Her scent was soft and clean, like vanilla and parchment. Her body was soft where he was sharp, and for a second, the hallway, the students, the stares, all disappeared.
"I thought you were dead," she whispered, her voice tight. "They said you were gone."
Cain stood frozen. No one had touched him with warmth in what felt like forever. He didn't move at first, uncertain what to do with the gesture. But slowly, his arms rose, hesitant, and returned the embrace.
"I was," he said quietly.
Anna pulled back just enough to look at him. Her eyes searched his face, studying every line, every change.
"You came back," she said.
"I had to," he replied.
A flicker of something passed through her eyes. Relief, mixed with pride.
"Good! Then let's go inside and you can tell me all about it."