I barely registered the walk back to my room, my body moving on instinct while my mind reeled, trapped in an endless loop of Lara's words.
How could she be so blind?
How could she stand there and defend him, swear up and down that Cole was just some ordinary man, that he had done nothing to me?
Nothing.
My mind was missing entire moments of that night because of him.
And Lara had the audacity to call him polite?
Polite, my ass.
I gritted my teeth, my hands curling into fists.
She refused to see it.
She refused to see him for what he was.
I stormed into my room, slamming the door shut behind me, ready to collapse onto my bed and let the weight of it all settle, until something she said echoed in my mind.
"You looked at him like he was some kind of monster, like you saw something the rest of us didn't."
The words sent a sharp jolt through me, cutting through the haze of exhaustion and fury.
I froze mid-step, my breath catching.
I heard this one before.
Then it hit me. Marcus said the same exact thing earlier at Lune Noire.
"Just kept mumbling, looking around like you were seeing something the rest of us couldn't."
Was it possible?
Had I been the only one to see the shadows? To feel the shift in the air? To recognize Cole for what he really was?
My stomach twisted violently.
Why?
Why only me?
My fingers curled into fists, my nails pressing deep into my palms.
I had been so caught up in Lara's betrayal, in her complete and utter refusal to see the truth, that I hadn't stopped to question the bigger picture.
Cole wasn't just hiding in plain sight.
He was controlling what people saw.
And for some reason, it hadn't worked on me.
That terrified me more than anything.
I pressed a trembling hand to my forehead, my skin damp with sweat.
Cole had clearly manipulated Lara. That much was obvious. Twisted her mind, convinced her that he was the good guy.
But if she couldn't even see the truth, how was I supposed to save her?
A sharp pulse of frustration shot through me, my jaw tightening as I dragged a shaky hand through my hair. My chest felt too tight, constricted with emotions I couldn't unravel fast enough.
Anger.
Hurt.
Disbelief.
The crack of her power hitting me replayed in my mind, over and over, the sharp sting of betrayal cutting deeper than the pain in my skull.
I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing myself to breathe, to think.
This wasn't just a fight.
This was a fracture.
One I wasn't sure could ever be mended.
A slow, shuddering exhale slipped from my lips, the weight of the night pressing down on me, seeping into my bones.
Exhaustion crept in, heavy and relentless.
My body ached, my limbs felt like they didn't belong to me, but my mind refused to quiet. Thoughts churned, tangled, relentless.
I pushed myself up, rubbing a hand over my face before glancing toward the window.
Outside, the blood-red sun of Elarion was already creeping over the horizon, its deep crimson glow stretching across the sky, casting long, eerie shadows over the city. The light burned through the dark like a warning, turning the skyline into a surreal blend of scarlet and deep violet.
Morning.
I hadn't even realized how much time had passed.
A few hours of sleep wouldn't fix anything, but it was better than nothing.
My gaze flickered toward my bedside table.
The vial.
Safyrr's words echoed in my mind.
"Drink this before you go to bed."
I had no idea what it would do.
No idea if it would help.
But right now, I had nothing to lose.
I grabbed the vial, the cool glass pressing against my fingertips.
Now or never.
Tilting my head back, I swallowed the contents in one big gulp.
The taste was unexpectedly sweet, tinged with something floral, something ancient.
For a brief moment, nothing happened.
Then, a sudden heat rushed through my veins, spreading from my throat down to my fingertips, my entire body pulsing with a strange, slow-burning energy.
My vision blurred.
The room tilted and then everything went dark.
But it wasn't the cold, suffocating darkness of the shadows that had hunted me before.
This was different.
Soft. Warm. Cradling.
A faint glow surrounded me, hazy streaks of blue and violet light, shifting like mist through towering trees. The air carried something ancient, something untouched by time, something that whispered of a place long forgotten.
And I wasn't afraid.
A gentle hum filled the space around me, a melody so delicate it felt like a lullaby.
A voice, light as air, fluid as water was singing.
My head rested in the lap of a woman, her touch featherlight as she caressed my hair, fingers weaving through the strands with careful, unhurried motions.
A warmth surrounded me, deep and all-encompassing, sinking into my skin, into my very core.
I inhaled slowly, a familiar scent wrapping around me like silk, not just any scent.
Lyrian blooms.
A rare, celestial flower known to grow only under the twin moons of Elarion. Said to bring clarity in dreams, to whisper lost truths to those willing to listen.
My favorite flower.
The realization settled deep, but my body felt too heavy, too relaxed to react.
I wanted to open my eyes, to look at her, to see who she was.
But my limbs wouldn't move, and my mind was drowning in the lull of her voice.
The melody wove through my thoughts, sinking into my bones, into the very core of me, as if it had always been there.
Familiar.
Loved.
Mine.
Sleep pulled at me, gentle but insistent, and I let it take me.
The last thing I felt before slipping under was the woman's voice, still singing, still stroking my hair, like she had done this before.
Like she had been waiting for me to return.
I woke up with a feeling of peace, a sensation so foreign that for a moment, I didn't move.
My mind, usually a battlefield of restless thoughts, was silent.
For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt well-rested. Whole.
I rolled on my side, my gaze drifting toward the sprawling landscape of Lysoria, bathed in the soft glow of morning. The golden-violet sky stretched endlessly beyond my floor-to-ceiling windows, the city alive with its usual hum of distant activity.
But none of it felt urgent.
None of it felt like it belonged to me today.
A glance at my bedside clock told me I had already missed most of the school day.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't care.
I had no interest in forcing myself into that routine today, no desire to put on another mask, to pretend I was okay.
Because I wasn't.
Not after last night. Not after Lara.
And not after that dream.
The melody sung by the woman lingered, playing in my head like a song I had known all my life yet couldn't quite place.
I sought comfort in it, letting the tune hum softly at the back of my mind.
It felt like something precious. Sacred.
Something I couldn't afford to forget.
I pushed the covers aside and sat up, stretching slightly before reaching for my journal, snatching it off my bedside table.
I flipped open to a blank page, my hand already moving as I began scribbling the notes, mapping out the tune exactly as I remembered it.
My pen glided smoothly across the paper, the melody forming like it had been waiting for me to put it into existence.
Thinking back to that peaceful moment, I realized something.
The melody was clear, every note imprinted in my memory, but the lyrics were lost to me.
They had been sung in a language I didn't recognize.
A language that felt ancient, foreign… yet hauntingly familiar.
Even though I couldn't understand the words, I could still feel them, the weight, the meaning hidden within every syllable. The way they had woven into the melody, binding themselves to something deeper than just sound.
I want to bring this piece to life.
I made a mental note to talk to Quinn at school tomorrow, to see if we could work on it. If anyone could help me capture this song the way it was meant to be heard, it was her.
But for now, there was something else I needed to face.
I let out a slow breath and flipped back through my journal, turning to the page I had scribbled on frantically before storming into Lara's room.
The moment my eyes landed on the words, reality came crashing back in.
I had almost forgotten the chaos that had led me here, the rage, the betrayal, the heavy weight pressing against my ribs.
But now, after well-deserved rest, I felt like I could finally look at this with fresh eyes.
I traced my fingers over the names I had written, the connections I had drawn in frustration.
Riven. Lara. Shadows. The Ancient Rune.
It all started here.
I tapped the pen against the page, exhaling sharply.
What other details had I missed that could confirm Cole was, in fact, the Noctari King?
This morning, I had thrown my accusations at Lara, piecing together what I could from Marcus's and Calder's account and filling in the blanks with what I hoped was accurate.
But imagine my shock when Lara, without even realizing it, confirmed my accusations.
She had tried to defend herself, to justify everything, but in doing so, she had unknowingly admitted that I had been right.
All of it.
Every assumption, every gut instinct, every piece of the puzzle I had strung together, it was all true.
Even though the night at Lune Noire remained a blank space in my mind, I had done well reconstructing the events from the clues I gathered on my quest.
Damn. I was getting good at this.
The realization sent a strange, unfamiliar thrill through me.
Not because I enjoyed being right, but because it meant I was finally seeing things for what they were.
I wasn't just reacting anymore.
I was unraveling the truth.
My gaze dropped to my notes, my eyes scanning over the scribbled connections.
I zoned in on something that stood out.
The three crows.
My mind connected the dots almost instantly.
Berach and his two companions.
That night, when Riven and I nearly kissed, they were there.
Watching. Spying.
A sharp prickle ran down my spine.
Cole was not here alone.
I flipped the page, my fingers tightening around the journal as another realization crashed into me.
My mind drifted back to the voices I heard when the shadows squeezed the life out of me at Lune Noire.
There were four of them.
One of them I now recognized as Cole.
The deep, cold voice that had felt too familiar.
I had heard his voice before.
In the vision at the ruins. When he was facing off against Xavian, standing alongside the Pyrix King.
His last words at Lune Noire echoed in my head, clear as day, like they had been burned into my memory.
"It's not her. I was right."
"It's the other one."
This morning, my mind had been a scattered mess, raw, broken, frayed at the edges after Cole forcefully invaded my thoughts.
I had been too focused on pushing away the pain, drowning out the confusion, piecing myself back together from the aftermath, that I had missed the connection.
Cole had been watching us from the very beginning.
Lara and me.
He had already gathered enough information to know that whatever he was searching for, one of us had it.
And when they didn't find it in me last night…
Cole got the confirmation he needed.