I woke with a violent jolt, a strangled gasp tearing from my throat as I lurched upright.

For one terrifying heartbeat, I was still there. I could still feel his hand on my chest.

Still hear his voice whispering against my ear.

I'll come for you.

My heart hammered so violently it hurt.

"Oh, no fair." Lilith's disappointed voice cut cleanly through the panic.

I blinked.

The familiar dormitory slowly came back into focus.

A pillow hovered barely an inch from my face.

I stared at it for a long second before forcing myself to breathe.

"Morning wake-up?" I asked weakly.

Lilith's shoulders slumped. "But you're already awake."

"I'm sure people don't enjoy being smothered by pillows first thing in the morning." Rivena's voice drifted across the room as she straightened the pleats of her uniform skirt before fastening the last button of her blazer.

Lilith folded her arms. "It builds character."

Despite everything, the corner of my mouth twitched.

"Sorry," I muttered, dragging a hand across my face.

It had just been a dream. It had to be. There was no other explanation.

"Why are you apologising?" Lilith asked, tilting her head.

I realised everyone was looking at me.

I forced another smile. "...Nothing."

Before either of them could ask another question, I climbed out of bed, grabbed the first clean uniform I could find and practically fled towards the bathroom.

I'd barely reached the door before fingers wrapped gently around my arm.

I jumped.

Eryx immediately let go. 

"Sorry." His brow furrowed as he studied me. "Are you alright?"

For a moment I almost told him. About the dream. About the contract. About the thing wearing an angel's face that now knew where I was.

Instead...

"I'm fine." The words came out far too quickly. "I just need to get changed."

His expression softened with concern rather than belief. "If you say so."

He stepped aside.

I slipped into the bathroom before anyone else could stop me. The door clicked shut behind me.

I rested both hands on the basin and looked up. 

The girl staring back wasn't the one I'd gone to bed as. Dark shadows hollowed the skin beneath my mismatched eyes, making the turquoise and brown stand out starkly against a face that looked almost colourless. My usually pale complexion had faded into something closer to ash, while my silver hair stuck out in every direction after yesterday's training.

Slowly, my gaze drifted lower. To the place beneath my collar where the mark lay hidden.

A knot tightened in my stomach.

Part of me wanted to leave it alone. Pretend none of it had happened. Pretend the nightmare had stayed exactly where nightmares belonged.

Instead, my fingers found the top button of my shirt. One by one, I undid them. Carefully, I pulled the fabric aside.

The mark greeted me immediately.

I frowned.

It had changed. The once-faint golden lines now looked like molten gold coursing through them, streaked with fine crimson veins that spread outwards like cracks through glass.

My fingertips brushed lightly across it.

Warmth radiated into my hand. Not enough to burn. But enough to remind me it was there.

His voice returned so vividly I almost expected to feel his breath against my ear.

I know where you are.

I'll come for you soon.

My stomach lurched.

Before I could think better of it, I jammed my thumb hard into the centre of the mark. Pain shot through my chest, sharp enough to make my breath hitch.

I met my own reflection in the mirror. For a long moment, neither of us looked away. Then I forced every ounce of fear down beneath the anger boiling inside me.

"Come and get me," I said quietly. "If you fucking can."

The rest of the day passed in a blur.

I answered questions without really hearing them. Wrote notes I couldn't remember taking. More than once, a professor called my name before I realised they'd asked me something.

Every unexpected voice made me flinch. Every shadow caught in the corner of my eye made me glance over my shoulder. Twice I was convinced someone had stopped behind me. Twice I turned around to find nothing but students filing through the corridors, laughing and complaining about assignments as though the world wasn't quietly falling apart.

Maybe it wasn't.

Maybe it was only mine.

I rubbed unconsciously at the mark hidden beneath my uniform. It hadn't burned again and that should have reassured me. Instead, I couldn't stop waiting for it to.

By lunchtime I was exhausted. Not physically. But waiting for something terrible to happen was somehow even more tiring than Professor Malachi's classes or Kian's nightly attempts to throw me through the ground. If I kept jumping at every shadow, I wasn't going to survive the week. Forget surviving the Trial of Allegiance. I'd end up locked in the academy infirmary from sheer paranoia.

So when Professor Valerius assigned us a research paper on one of the Nine King Houses, I welcomed the distraction more than I cared to admit.

Anything was better than sitting alone with my own thoughts.

"It's discrimination." Lilith folded her arms dramatically as we crossed the academy courtyard.

"No," Rivena sighed for what was probably the tenth time that morning.

"It absolutely is." Lilith looked personally offended. "Why don't I get to choose which House I research?"

"Because," Eryx replied patiently, "it isn't exactly research if you write about your own father."

"Why not?" Lilith frowned.

"I guarantee I know more about King Paimon than anyone else in our class."

"Exactly." Rivena rubbed her temples. "That's the problem."

Lilith blinked. 

"...Oh." She considered that for a moment. "I still think it's discrimination."

Rivena didn't even bother answering this time. She simply kept walking.

Lilith stuck her tongue out at all of us before darting ahead towards the towering doors of the academy library.

The moment I stepped inside...

I stopped.

The library wasn't simply large. It was enormous. The ceiling disappeared into a forest of soaring Gothic arches supported by towering black stone columns, while vast stained-glass windows stretched almost the entire height of the building, flooding the interior with light that painted everything beneath it in shades of ruby and gold. Endless shelves climbed upwards through level after level of wrought-iron balconies until they vanished into the shadows above, each one overflowing with leather-bound books whose spines bore titles in dozens of languages I couldn't even begin to recognise.

Narrow ladders leaned against the shelves, stretching so impossibly high that climbing them looked like tempting fate.

Beyond the main reading hall, countless aisles branched away in every direction. The sort of place where someone could disappear for days and never find the same bookshelf twice.

The air carried the comforting scent of old parchment, polished cedar and melted candle wax, layered with something faintly sweet that reminded me of burnt vanilla.

Every footstep echoed softly across the polished stone floors.

Hundreds of students wandered between the shelves, yet barely a word was spoken above a whisper.

Even Lilith lowered her voice. "...This place is terrifying."

"It is a library," Rivena replied.

"Exactly." Lilith looked up at the endless balconies. "If one of those books falls on someone..."

Eryx chuckled quietly before reaching into his satchel.

He pulled out a small notebook and quickly scribbled something before holding it towards me.

Which House are you researching?

I shrugged helplessly.

Honestly...

I'd been too distracted trying not to have a nervous breakdown to think about the assignment.

He smiled knowingly before writing again.

Try Purson.

House Murmur has served them for generations.

I can help if you get stuck.

Relief loosened something in my chest. I gave him a grateful nod.

He returned the smile, mouthing, Come find me if you need anything.

Then he pointed towards one of the eastern aisles.

I smiled back before watching him disappear amongst the shelves alongside Rivena. Lilith, meanwhile, had already wandered off in the opposite direction, muttering under her breath about how Belial was "the least interesting House in existence."

I found myself alone.

Taking a slow breath, I looked around the silent library.

I was safe. This was far away from my nightmares.

I tightened my grip on the notebook Professor Valerius had handed us.

You're awake. 

​You're in the library. 

Forget about him.

With that thought firmly in mind, I turned towards the section Eryx had pointed out and disappeared into the maze of towering bookshelves.

The further I wandered from the main reading hall, the older everything seemed to become. The polished shelves near the entrance gave way to towering oak bookcases, their edges worn smooth by countless hands. Brass plaques had been fixed to the end of each aisle, the engraved lettering catching the warm glow of enchanted lanterns overhead.

House Belial.

House Bael.

House Vine.

I continued deeper into the maze until another plaque caught my attention.

An ornate set of golden scales had been engraved above a single word.

House Purson.

The aisle stretched far longer than I expected. Shelves rose so impossibly high that they disappeared into the shadows above, packed so tightly with leather-bound tomes that there wasn't a finger's width between them. Some books looked ancient enough to crumble if touched, while others gleamed with newer bindings embossed in gold leaf. Every spine carried another fragment of Purson's history.

The Merchant Kings of Gehenna.

Purson and the First Accord.

Trade Routes Before the Great Divide.

The House of Purson: Bloodlines and Succession.

There had to be hundreds of them.

"Where do I even start?"

I wandered slowly down the aisle, trailing my fingertips across cracked leather bindings as though hoping one of the books might choose me instead. Dust clung to my skin with every shelf I passed, disturbed only by the occasional flicker of torchlight dancing across faded gold lettering.

Near the end of the aisle, one title caught my eye:

The House of Purson: A Complete History.

It rested on the highest shelf just above eye level.

Stretching onto my toes, I wrapped both hands around the thick volume and eased it carefully free. The book resisted at first, as though it hadn't been moved in years, before finally sliding forwards with a dry scrape of leather against wood. A cloud of dust drifted lazily through the air.

The gap it left between the tightly packed books was barely wider than my hand.

Without thinking...

I looked through it.

Someone was standing on the opposite side of the shelf. Silver-white hair. Silver eyes. A chilling smile.

Everything inside me froze.

He wasn't moving.

He was simply standing there...

Watching me.

My breath caught painfully in my throat.

No...

The book slipped from my fingers.

It crashed against the timber floor with a thunderous bang that echoed the entire length of the aisle.

I stumbled backwards so quickly my heel caught the bottom shelf. The world lurched and I hit the floor hard enough to drive the air from my lungs.

For a heartbeat I couldn't breathe.

Couldn't move.

Couldn't tear my eyes away from the narrow gap in the shelf.

But there was no one there

"...Are you alright?" The familiar voice made me flinch.

I looked up sharply.

The fallen angel, Zaquiel, stood over me, one eyebrow slightly raised as he peered down with unmistakable curiosity. Seeing emerald eyes instead of silver should have reassured me. Instead, relief and confusion crashed together so violently I couldn't tell one from the other.

He crouched beside me and smiled. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I..." The words refused to come.

My gaze flickered back towards the shelf.

"I thought..." I shook my head. "...Nothing."

His expression softened—not with sympathy, but with careful observation. "Hm."

Before I realised what he intended, his hand closed around my forearm. His grip was surprisingly warm. Firm enough that I couldn't simply pull away. And with almost effortless strength he guided me back onto my feet.

His hand remained around my arm as though he'd forgotten it was there, emerald eyes studying my face with an intensity that made me increasingly uncomfortable. Instead of letting go, he leaned slightly closer. Close enough that I could see tiny flecks of gold hidden amongst the emerald of his eyes.

"You should be careful." His voice dropped to barely more than a whisper. "If they discover what you are..."

His fingers unconsciously tightened around my arm.

"...they'll kill you."

The words settled over me like ice water.

"What?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he drew in a slow breath.

Almost...

As though listening with his sense of smell.

His brow furrowed.

"...There it is."

"What are you talking about?" I tried to pull my arm free.

His grip barely moved. "You can't hide from me."

Panic clawed its way into my chest.

Every instinct screamed at me to run.

"You hide it well," he murmured, more to himself than to me. His thumb brushed absently against the sleeve of my uniform, almost as though he expected to feel something beneath the fabric. "Most fallen can't suppress their grace this completely; that's where you're failing."

"Grace?"

His eyes searched mine. "Though I must admit, I've never met one willing to hide their celestial scent beneath a demon's."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"But you can't keep leaking grace like this. If another angel catches your scent..." His expression hardened. "They won't ask questions first."

"Let her go." Eryx's voice cut through the aisle like a drawn blade.

Zaquiel blinked.

Only then did he seem to realise he was still holding my arm.

His fingers loosened immediately.

Eryx stepped between us without hesitation, placing himself squarely in my line of sight and forcing Zaquiel to take a step backwards. The warmth that usually lived in Eryx's expression had vanished completely, replaced by a fury I'd never seen before.

Neither of them spoke.

The silence stretched between them, heavy enough that even the library itself seemed to hold its breath.

Eventually, Zaquiel let out a quiet laugh. "You certainly attract loyal protectors."

His gaze slipped past Eryx to find mine once more.

"Be careful." 

There wasn't the slightest trace of amusement left in his voice now.

"Everyone here smiles..." His eyes drifted slowly across the endless bookshelves surrounding us. "Until they decide you're worth more dead than alive."

He turned before either of us could answer.

Long black wings folded neatly against his back as he disappeared between the towering shelves, swallowed piece by piece by the dim light until only darkness remained.

For some reason...

His warning frightened me far more than the ghost I'd thought I'd seen only moments before.