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He didn't remember running.
Aeryn only remembered the sound-the crunch of shattered branches underfoot, the thunder of his pulse in his ears, the echo of Kael's voice saying his brother's name. It followed him, hunted him, even as the trial ended.
When they dragged him out of the forest at dawn, he was soaked in blood, none of it his own.
The spectators didn't cheer. They stared. Silent. Horrified.
Kael Vire was carried out on a levitating stretcher, motionless, his neck and chest bandaged in strips soaked through with crimson. His pulse was faint but steady. He hadn't woken.
Aeryn had bitten him. Nearly crushed his windpipe. Nearly killed him.
He didn't remember how it ended. Didn't remember how he escaped the Trial Grounds, or how many competitors he'd injured. The only thing clear in his mind was Kael's voice breaking through the rage.
"Asher."
That single name had yanked Aeryn back from the edge.
He woke strapped to a marble table in the infirmary, wrists bound with silver-threaded rope, a magical dampening rune glowing on his throat. His first breath tasted of incense and salt.
A tall woman in green robes leaned over him, her eyes like candle flames.
"Open your mouth," she said coldly.
Aeryn obeyed. She forced something down his throat-bitter, metallic. The magic in it made his skin twitch.
"Drink," she ordered. "Or die."
He drank. The burning stopped. The rage faded. But the guilt remained.
Later, the Council came.
Not the whole Council-just three of them, cloaked in gray and masked in iron. Their voices echoed with enchantments that made Aeryn's ears ring.
"You endangered the heirs of two noble houses."
"You violated the natural order. You shifted without form."
"You are not a wolf. Not a vampire. What are you?"
Aeryn stared at the ceiling, jaw tight.
"I don't know," he whispered.
"Then we will find out."
They left without ceremony. The ropes were removed, but the rune on his throat remained.
A nurse told him he'd be confined to his tower chamber unless escorted.
Kael hadn't woken.
Aeryn asked three times.
Each time, the answer was the same: no change.
Three days passed. The academy murmured with every step he took. Students moved aside in the corridors. Some whispered "hybrid" behind his back. Others made no effort to hide their contempt.
The only person who seemed entirely unbothered was Lucien.
He appeared beside Aeryn during breakfast on the fourth day, uninvited, sliding into the seat across from him with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"You're popular," Lucien said, pouring dark tea into a silver cup. "Which is rare for murderers."
"I didn't kill him."
"Yet."
Aeryn pushed his tray away.
Lucien's gaze dropped to the silver chain now fused to Aeryn's collarbone. Where it had once hung loose, it had now embedded itself-threads of it had melted into his skin like veins.
"That chain doesn't belong to you," Lucien said softly.
"It was my brother's."
"Exactly."
Aeryn narrowed his eyes. "You know something about him."
Lucien shrugged, stirring his tea with a finger. "I knew he wasn't just an heir." I knew the Council lied when they said he died during training. And I know someone went through a lot of trouble to make sure his death served a purpose.
"What purpose?"
Lucien's smile widened. "You."
That night, Aeryn couldn't sleep. The rune on his throat pulsed whenever he grew too agitated, a constant, throbbing reminder of what they thought he was: a monster wearing human skin.
But Kael had saved him. Twice. And Aeryn owed him more than silence.
So he left.
The infirmary tower was heavily warded, but Lucien had slipped him a charm earlier without a word-an obsidian ring carved with the sigil of House Blood. When he passed the outer guards, none of them blinked.
Inside, the corridors were dim. Lanterns floated down the halls like fireflies. The room he sought was at the very top.
Kael lay motionless on a raised bed, his chest wrapped in fresh bandages, his arms scratched and bruised. His jaw was clenched even in unconsciousness.
Aeryn sat beside him.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he whispered. "I didn't even know I could."
He didn't expect an answer. And none came.
He stayed for nearly an hour.
When he rose to leave, the shadows near the window moved.
A blade flashed.
Aeryn barely ducked as a dagger whistled past his cheek, embedding itself in the headboard.
A figure lunged.
Aeryn grabbed a stool and swung. It shattered the attacker's arm-but didn't stop them. They moved like smoke, hooded, silent. Another blade appeared in their hand.
Aeryn rolled under the bed. Grabbed the dagger from the headboard. Turned.
The figure followed.
They fought in silence. Steel against steel. Aeryn took a cut to the arm. Blood dripped onto the runes on the floor-activating them. A shockwave knocked both combatants apart.
The assassin hissed. Turned to strike Kael.
"No!" Aeryn screamed.
He tackled the figures, slamming them into the far wall. The hood fell.
A woman. Barely older than him. Eyes are glowing blue.
"You weren't supposed to live," she spat.
"Neither were you," he growled-and stabbed her in the shoulder.
She shrieked. Melted into mist. Vanished.
The door slammed open.
Two enforcers rushed in.
Lucien was with them.
He took one look at the broken room, the blood, the dagger in Aeryn's hand-and sighed.
"Again?"
The enforcers moved to restrain Aeryn.
Lucien stopped them. "No need. He saved the heir."
They hesitated.
Lucien turned to Aeryn. "You need protection. Join House Blood. Or next time, they won't ask questions before they kill you."
Aeryn looked at Kael.
His chest rose and fell.
Still breathing.
"I'll think about it," Aeryn said.
Lucien smiled. "Good. But don't take too long."
He stepped into the hall.
Aeryn turned back to Kael.
And this time, Kael's eyes were open.