THE MARK OF SHADOWS

Chapter 5: The Mark of Shadows

The whispers didn’t stop after the storm.

All through the next day, Lyra felt them brushing against her mind—soft, insistent, like a lover’s breath at her ear. Mine… ours… hers. Every shadow she passed seemed to stretch a little closer, every flickering candlelight bent unnaturally toward her. Students turned to watch her as she walked the halls, their expressions ranging from wary curiosity to thinly veiled disdain.

The academy had noticed her. And so had everyone else.

By the time she entered the dining hall, conversations dipped, eyes lingering on her. The vaulted chamber smelled faintly of smoke and spice, with long wooden tables laden with food that shifted shape depending on who reached for it. Lyra watched a boy grab what looked like bread only for it to turn into a writhing serpent on his plate, earning laughter from his friends.

But the laughter quieted when she appeared.

“She’s the one who survived the storm,” someone whispered.

“No one survives their first trial that quickly.”

“She’s marked.”

Lyra’s skin prickled. She kept her chin high, refusing to show fear.

Kael was already seated at the far end of the hall. He lounged in his chair as if he owned the place, shadows curling lazily around his shoulders like pets. His storm-gray eyes flicked to her, sharp and unreadable, and with the smallest tilt of his head, he motioned for her to sit beside him.

The hall seemed to hold its breath as she crossed to him.

“Careful,” murmured a girl she passed, her silver hair catching the candlelight. “Sit with him, and the whole school will know where your loyalties lie.”

Lyra ignored her, though her heart pounded. She slid into the seat beside Kael. The air shifted immediately—some students looked away, others stared openly, their whispers growing louder.

Kael smirked. “Enjoying the attention?”

“I didn’t ask for it,” Lyra muttered.

“You didn’t have to,” he replied smoothly. “The academy asked for you.”

His words sent a shiver through her. Before she could respond, a heavy thud shook the table. A boy slammed a goblet down, his golden eyes burning with challenge. He was tall, broad-shouldered, with hair the color of fire. His presence radiated heat, and the flames in the nearest torches seemed to flare brighter.

“Riven,” he growled, ignoring Lyra completely. “You always find the new ones first, don’t you?”

Kael’s smile didn’t waver. “Jealous, Darius?”

The boy—Darius—snorted. His gaze finally flicked to Lyra, and his eyes narrowed. “Careful, girl. Sitting beside him means you’re already halfway cursed.”

Lyra opened her mouth, but Kael’s hand brushed hers under the table, stilling her. The warmth of his touch was subtle, grounding, yet possessive.

“She survived the storm,” Kael said lazily, though his eyes glittered with warning. “She’s earned her place.”

Darius leaned closer, his voice low and sharp. “Or she’s just another moth flying too close to your flame. We’ll see how long before she burns.”

The torches hissed, smoke curling up toward the vaulted ceiling. Then Darius turned and stalked away, the crowd parting for him like water.

Lyra released a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Who was—”

“Danger,” Kael interrupted, his tone suddenly serious. “And not the kind you’re ready for. Stay away from him.”

Lyra bristled. “I can handle myself.”

Kael’s gaze caught hers, stormy and unreadable. “No, Lyra. You think you can. But Darius isn’t just another student. He’s fire—burning, consuming, merciless. And fire doesn’t care what it destroys.”

Their eyes locked, the tension between them taut and magnetic. For a moment, the entire hall seemed to fade—the whispers, the stares, the flickering torches. There was only Kael, his hand still brushing hers, his shadow curling protectively around her chair.

She should have pulled away. But she didn’t.

The connection between them pulsed like a heartbeat, dangerous and undeniable. And Lyra realized with a shiver that in choosing to sit beside him, she had made her first true choice at Darklight Academy.

A choice that would not be without consequences.

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