Chapter 43 Afraid of the Dark
He leaned down, his lips brushing against the pulse point in my neck. "Show them the teeth, doll. Tomorrow, they’ll try to break you. Don't let them. If you're going to break, you do it for me. Not for them."
He stayed there for a long moment, his breath hot on my skin, the tension between us reaching a breaking point that felt like it was about to shatter the world. Then, just as suddenly as he’d attacked, he let me go and stood up, offering me a hand with a mocking bow.
"Session over. Get cleaned up. You smell like effort, and it’s making me hungry."
I was still vibrating from the training session, my muscles aching and my skin still tingling from Ryker’s touch, as I made my way back toward the dorms. I was sweaty, disheveled, and currently in no mood for Salvation’s brand of social etiquette.
I was turning a corner into one of the main cloisters when a wall of white silk and arrogance blocked my path.
Seraphina stood there, flanked by her usual shadows—Kaelen, the hulking werewolf, and Lyra, the sharp-eyed witch. Seraphina looked like she’d just stepped out of a bath of moonlight, her platinum hair perfect, her expression one of amused disgust.
"Well, well," Seraphina drawled, her voice like ice scraping on glass. "If it isn't the human pet. You look... bedraggled, Amaya. Has the demon been playing too roughly with his new toy?"
I stopped, wiping a smear of basalt dust from my forehead. "It’s called training, Seraphina. You should try it sometime. It involves things like moving and effort, which I know might mess up your hair or, God forbid, you might break a nail."
Kaelen took a step forward, a low growl rumbling in her throat, but Seraphina held up a hand, her eyes never leaving mine. "Oh, I move plenty, darling. But I don't move for scraps. I move for purpose. And your purpose here is... limited."
She stepped closer, her perfume—something floral and cloyingly sweet—suffocating the scent of the rain. "Did you think because Malik smiles at you and Ryker plays with you, that you’re special? You’re a placeholder. A biological curiosity that the Headmaster is currently evaluating."
"The Headmaster doesn't like curiosities," I snapped back. "He likes results. And so far, I’m the only one here who’s actually scaring him."
Seraphina laughed, a tinkling, cruel sound. "Scaring him? Darling, Juda Gringer isn't scared of you. He’s disgusted by you. He wants you broken. He told the Council himself—if you can't be molded into a predictable tool, you’re to be dismantled. Tomorrow’s assessment isn't a test, Amaya. It’s an execution of your spirit." She laughs, "And I will have a front row seat."
Something in me snapped. The fear I’d been carrying, the doubt, the grief for my old life—it all condensed into a single, sharp point of pure, bratty defiance. I’d spent my whole life being the 'good' girl, the 'orderly' pharmacist, the one who followed the rules and stayed in the lines.
I was done being broken.
I stepped into Seraphina’s personal space, ignoring Kaelen’s growl. I was shorter than the angel, but in that moment, I felt like a giant.
"Listen to me, you over-bleached pigeon," I hissed, my voice low and lethal. "Juda Gringer can try to break me. You can try to dismantle me. But I’ve already died once this week. Do you really think I’m afraid of a few stuck-up angels with a God complex?"
I leaned in until I was whispering in her ear. "The Headmaster wants me broken? Tell him to get in line. And tell him that if he tries to dismantle me, I’ll make sure the last thing he sees is the 'human' he was too arrogant to respect, ripping his precious order apart."
I pulled back, giving her a sharp, mocking wink. "And Seraphina? Your roots are showing. Might want to get that looked at before the assessment."
I walked right through their group, my shoulder slamming into Lyra’s with enough force to make her stumble. I didn't look back. I could feel their eyes on me—shocked, furious, and for the first time, a little bit uncertain.
I’d shown them my teeth. Now, I needed to find out exactly what kind of trap Juda Gringer was setting for me.
The Great Library of Salvation was a labyrinth of towering oak shelves that seemed to stretch into infinity, the air thick with the smell of old parchment, vanillin, and the quiet weight of a million forgotten secrets. It was the only place in the school that felt truly neutral, a sanctuary where knowledge outweighed lineage.
I was looking for anything on Juda Gringer, on the 'Broken' protocol Seraphina had mentioned, and on the Prophecy of the Dark Mother. If they wanted to dismantle me, I needed to know the blueprints they were using.
I was deep in the 'Censored History' wing, a section where the books were chained to the shelves, and the light was dim and flickering, when I saw him.