A Test of Loyalty
Nightshade Academy was steeped in an oppressive silence, the moonlight casting skeletal shadows across its cold, ancient stone walls. Lyra and Eryon moved with practiced caution through the deserted halls, their steps light and deliberate, each footfall an exercise in precision. Seraphine’s orders echoed in their minds, her voice as sharp and cold as a blade:
“Tonight, you will retrieve the records. The King’s network depends on fear, and fear depends on control. Take his secrets, and you weaken his power.”
The weight of the task pressed on them, the clarity of the directive doing little to ease the danger of their mission. The archives were not merely a repository of the King’s secrets—they were a fortress, guarded by knights loyal to the bloodline and layered with wards designed to ensnare any intruder foolish enough to try.
As they reached the entrance to the archives, Lyra’s wolf bristled, the faint hum of magic setting her instincts on edge. She scanned the shadows, her silver eyes narrowing. “This isn’t going to be easy,” she whispered to Eryon, her voice barely audible.
“Nothing about this ever is,” he replied grimly, his amber eyes focused on the etched runes glowing faintly around the doorway. He crouched, tracing the intricate symbols with his fingers. “These wards… they’re stronger. This isn’t like the others.”
Lyra tightened her grip on the alchemical blade Amelia had given her, the silver edge glinting faintly in the moonlight. Its weight in her hand was reassuring, a tangible reminder of their purpose. “We don’t have time to hesitate,” she said, urgency lacing her words.
Eryon nodded, his jaw tightening as he set to work. The runes flared briefly, the magic resisting before unraveling under his deft touch. The glow faded, leaving the doorway dark and silent. “We’re in,” he said, rising to his feet.
They slipped inside, the air growing colder with each step as they descended into the archives. The space was vast and cavernous, its rows of ancient tomes and scrolls stretching endlessly. Faded lettering adorned the shelves, whispering secrets of forgotten ages, the faint scent of parchment mingling with the icy chill of protective enchantments.
Lyra moved through the shadows, her wolf restless beneath her skin. As they searched, the unease in her chest grew, a low growl rumbling in her throat. She glanced over her shoulder, scanning the dark corners of the room. “We’re not alone,” she murmured, her voice tense.
Eryon stiffened, his hand hovering over the blade at his side. The silence thickened, the oppressive air growing heavier. Then, the stillness shattered.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
The familiar voice sliced through the quiet like a knife. Lyra spun around, her blade raised, to find Adrian standing in the doorway. The faint crimson glow of his eyes pierced the dim light, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding.
“You shouldn’t be here either,” Lyra countered, forcing her voice to steady despite the fear clawing at her chest.
Adrian stepped closer, the tension in his stance betraying his calm exterior. His gaze locked onto hers, unwavering. “I could say the same about you,” he said, his voice low, each word weighted. “What are you doing, Lyra? What’s worth risking everything for?”
The air between them crackled with unspoken tension, their emotions colliding like an oncoming storm. Lyra’s heart pounded, torn between the pull of his intensity and the shield of her secrets. She could feel Eryon’s steady presence behind her, a silent reminder of their purpose, their mission—but Adrian’s crimson gaze held her captive.
“You wouldn’t understand,” she said finally, her voice soft but resolute. The truth lingered on the tip of her tongue, dangerous and undeniable, but she swallowed it down.
Adrian stepped even closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Try me.”
For a moment, the weight of his words hung in the air, daring her to bridge the gap between them. But before she could respond, a distant sound echoed through the archives—the heavy footsteps of knights approaching.
Adrian’s gaze flicked toward the sound, then back to Lyra. His expression darkened, torn between loyalty and something deeper. “You need to leave. Now,” he said, his voice sharp with urgency.
Lyra hesitated, searching his face for any sign of betrayal, but all she saw was determination. Eryon grabbed her arm, breaking the moment. “We have to go,” he said, his tone firm.
Without another word, the twins slipped into the shadows, their movements swift and silent. As the footsteps grew louder, Adrian stood alone in the archives, his heart racing as he prepared to confront the approaching danger. His loyalty to the King was slipping, and in its place, a dangerous truth was taking root—one he wasn’t ready to face.
