Evelyn couldn't stop thinking about the look in Alexander's eyes.
It hadn't been cold. Not this time.
It had been barely restrained—as if something inside him had cracked open, something raw and unfinished, something that scared even him.
She walked quickly through the halls of the Academy, the echo of the chime still ringing in her bones. A warning bell like that wasn't sounded for drills or inconveniences. It meant something had breached the outer wards.
It meant danger.
And after everything—Isabella's games, the bloodied ribbon, Alexander's warnings—Evelyn no longer believed in coincidence.
When she turned the corner toward the main courtyard, chaos greeted her.
Students being ushered inside, professors coordinating spells, protective wards flickering across the air like glass under stress. Something had struck the barrier shielding the Academy—and it had hit hard.
And amidst it all, Evelyn caught sight of Alexander.
He stood like a shadow carved in stone, voice quiet but commanding as he gave instructions to a younger professor. His coat billowed in the wind. His expression unreadable.
Until his eyes found hers.
There was a flicker—of relief, of something more—before it vanished behind his usual calm.
She walked toward him, and this time, he didn't stop her.
"Do we know what it was?" she asked, her voice steady even as tension curled in her chest.
Alexander didn't lie. "Not yet. The wards held, but only barely."
"And you think it's connected to everything else."
"I don't think anymore, Evelyn. I know."
She swallowed. "Isabella?"
"Maybe," he said. "But she's not alone. Someone's backing her—someone who understands the Academy's weaknesses."
Evelyn glanced toward the far gates, where magical residue still sparked against the air. Her instincts screamed that this wasn't over. That something had shifted tonight.
"I won't hide in that room forever," she said.
"I'm not asking you to hide," Alexander murmured. "I'm asking you to survive."
Something in his tone sent a chill through her. It wasn't protective—it was personal. He wasn't just worried for her.
He was afraid of what losing her might do to him.
Before she could reply, movement drew their attention.
From the far edge of the courtyard, Caelan appeared again—jacket tossed carelessly over one shoulder, a faint smirk on his lips. He gave a brief nod toward Alexander, then looked at Evelyn.
His gaze lingered.
"I heard there was trouble," he said lightly. "I always seem to show up at the wrong time."
Or maybe, Evelyn thought, exactly the right time—for trouble of another kind.
Alexander stepped forward, his jaw tight.
Caelan raised both hands innocently. "Just checking in on old friends."
Evelyn stood between them, heart pounding for reasons that had nothing to do with magic or attacks.
Because something had shifted between her and Alexander.
And now, with Caelan watching, and Alexander's expression darkening by the second...
She wasn't sure if her heart was entirely safe anymore.
But maybe she didn't want it to be.