I shake my head, but I have a small idea of at least one of their plans. They want me. It’s why I’m still breathing. They think if they leave me alive, I’ll see the “truth” about Raith eventually. That Aurenciels can’t be trusted because their history is filled with atrocities committed against unbound.

I just wish Raith was here. Here so I could talk to him about all the things that have been hanging unsaid between us. And I wish part of me wasn’t afraid Lorkan and Milena were right—that letting me come back here on my own would slowly poison me.

Because that same part of me understands something more clearly than I’d like: Empire and Red Kingdom will never accept someone like me. I’m a threat to them. Dangerous. Too dangerous to be allowed to live unchained, at least.

The best I can hope for if I stay here is to grow my power until I can break any chains they may try to put on me. But what then? Would I simply exist as a rogue force in Empire’s army, too strong to cage but too powerful to trust?

Lorkan and Milena might offer me the only place I could ever just… be.

But every time I think of them, I remember the siphon that nearly killed Raith and me last year. The people responsible for making a creature as terrible as that can’t possibly be people I should join. Right?

"Hey." Mireen touches my arm, bringing me back to the present. "You okay?"

"Fine," I lie. I can’t confide in anyone about my doubts. Raith is the only one I could even imagine talking to about them, and he’s not here. He hasn’t been all fucking summer. "Just thinking about the new aspirants. I should probably get going."

She eyes me skeptically but doesn't press. Another thing I love about her—she knows when to push and when to let things be. "I'll see you at dinner, then? Beck wants to get everyone together, catch up before classes actually start."

"I'll be there." I move toward the door, pausing with my hand on the latch. "And Mireen? Try not to adopt any more wildlife before then."

Her laughter follows me into the hallway, bright and genuine. For a moment, I almost feel normal—just another student preparing for a new academic year. Almost.

But then I pass a group of second-years who fall silent at the sight of me, their eyes tracking my movement with a mixture of fear and fascination. The illusion shatters.

I am not normal. Maybe I never was.

***