Kian's POV
I didn't sleep much that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw blue light under my skin and a wall clock freezing like someone had pressed pause on the world. Sometimes I saw something worse Nyra's eyes, dark and scared, whispering that word.
Awakening.
What did that even mean?
Around two in the morning, I gave up pretending. I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling, listening to the quiet hum of the fridge in the kitchen and the distant sound of a siren somewhere far away.
The house was small and old and thin-walled. I could hear my mother's soft snoring through the wall between our rooms. That sound usually calmed me. Tonight, it didn't.
My wrist tingled.
I pulled my sleeve up and stared at the faint lines of blue hiding beneath the surface of my skin. They weren't glowing now, not really but I could feel them. Like a song playing just below hearing. Like something waiting for permission.
"Stop," I muttered, as if talking to my own blood. "Just… don't."
It didn't listen.
✦ ✦ ✦
By morning, my head felt stuffed with cotton.
"Are you sure you're okay, Kian?" Mom asked, her brows pulled together as she spooned watery scrambled eggs onto my plate. "You barely touched your dinner last night. And you've been… quiet."
"I'm always quiet," I said, poking the eggs with my fork.
"Quieter," she corrected gently.
She looked tired. There were new lines around her eyes I didn't remember seeing last year. Guilt pinched my chest. She'd spent half her life dragging me to doctors and specialists who shrugged and called me "interesting" and then sent me home with more bills.
"It was just a power outage at school," I lied. "Everyone freaked out. Nothing serious."
Her eyes searched my face for a moment, like she could see the lie sitting there. Then she sighed and forced a small smile.
"Okay. Just… tell me if anything feels wrong, all right?"
You have no idea, I thought.
"Yeah," I said. "I will."
I didn't.
✦ ✦ ✦
The day felt strange from the moment I stepped outside.
The sky was too bright, the sounds too sharp. Kids laughed and argued and shoved each other like nothing had happened yesterday. A few people whispered and pointed when they thought I wasn't looking, but no one came up to me.
Not even Jared.
That alone was enough to make my skin crawl.
On the bus, Nyra slipped into the seat beside me like she'd been doing it all year, even though she'd only started sitting there last month.
"Morning," she said.
I glanced at her. She looked the same as always calm, neat, slightly distant. Dark hair, dark eyes, expression politely blank. But now I saw details I hadn't really noticed before.
The way her gaze never stayed unfocused for more than a second. How she tracked every movement in the bus like a soldier would in enemy territory. How her hand rested loosely on her bag, but her fingers were tense, as if ready to move fast.
"Hey," I said. "Yesterday was… crazy."
"That's one word for it," she murmured.
I hesitated. "You're really not going to pretend you didn't see anything?"
"No," she said simply.
"So you did see." My voice dropped. "The lights. The phone. My—"
"Veins," she finished for me.
The word made my skin crawl like something was slipping beneath it.
"Yeah," I said.
She looked at me for a moment. The bus hit a bump; our shoulders brushed. A tiny spark skittered across my arm, like static. Her eyes flicked to the contact, then back to my face.
"Did it happen before?" she asked.
I swallowed. "Yeah. Once. When I was eight. In a hospital. They said it was some kind of… neurological thing. After that I tried not to get… worked up. It usually only happens when I… lose it."
She hummed quietly, like she was filing the information away.
"Do you feel anything now?" she asked.
"Besides total humiliation and mild terror?" I said dryly.
Her lips twitched. "Besides that."
I glanced down at my hands.
"…It's like something's awake," I admitted in a low voice. "Not fully, but… watching. Waiting."
Nyra nodded once, as if that confirmed something she already knew.
"That's not normal, right?" I tried to joke. It came out thin.
"Not for humans," she said before she could stop herself.
I blinked. "What?"
"Nothing." She looked out the window too quickly. "We're almost there."
The bus turned the corner. Westbrook High came into view, same cracked steps and flaking paint and tall fence. It should have looked exactly as it always did.
It didn't.
Because I saw him.
A man in a dark coat, standing just outside the school gate. Hands in his pockets. Sunglasses on, even though the light wasn't that bright. He looked… still. Too still. Like he wasn't really part of the scene, just placed on top of it.
Something cold crept up my spine.
"That guy was here yesterday," I muttered. "During the alarm."
Nyra's eyes sharpened. "Where?"
I tilted my chin toward the gate. "There. Next to the—"
He was gone.
No slow walk away, no car he might've climbed into. One second he was there. The next second, he wasn't.
"I swear, he—" I began.
"I believe you," Nyra said immediately.
I frowned. "You didn't even see him."
"I saw enough."
She stood as soon as the bus stopped, her hand clamping around my wrist in a firm grip.
"Stay close to me today," she said.
I stared at her. "What are you, my bodyguard now?"
Her eyes met mine, dark and earnest.
"Yes," she said.
I laughed, expecting her to laugh too. She didn't.
The laughter died in my throat.
"Nyra, you're freaking me out," I said.
"Good," she replied. "Maybe you'll actually listen to me."
For most of the morning, nothing happened.
No glowing veins. No power surges. No mysterious men at fences. Just math problems, half-broken projectors, and the usual hum of people who were convinced school was the center of the universe.
By lunch, I'd almost convinced myself I'd imagined the man in the coat.
"I told you," my brain said. "You're exhausted. Stressed. Sleep-deprived. Your mind made him up."
Then I caught Nyra staring out the cafeteria window with a look that did not say relaxed.
"What do you see?" I asked.
She blinked and turned back to her tray. "It's nothing."
"You say that every time it's not nothing," I said.
Her gaze slid back to the window for half a heartbeat. "There's a car," she admitted. "Black. Windows too dark. It's been parked across from the school since morning."
"Could be a parent waiting," I offered weakly.
"Parents don't sit that still for hours," she said. "And they don't stare at the same window."
My skin prickled.
"Which window?" I asked.
She looked at me. "Yours."
"Oh," I said.
Suddenly, the cafeteria felt smaller.
"Okay, that's… weird," I said. "But maybe it's just—"
"Kian." Her voice was quiet but firm. "Do you trust me?"
I didn't even have to think.
"Yes," I said.
It was stupid. We hadn't known each other that long. She was still a mystery wrapped in polite answers and long silences.
But when she looked at me with those star-flecked eyes, my bones answered before my brain could catch up.
"Then when school ends," she said, "don't go straight home. Wait for me. We'll leave together. And if anything feels wrong, you run. You don't stop. You don't ask questions. You run."
"And leave you?" I asked. "That's a terrible plan."
She held my gaze. "I was born so you don't have to be brave."
The way she said it simple, matter of fact made something in my chest twist.
"Nyra, that's not—"
The bell cut me off. Lunch was over.
✦ ✦ ✦
I waited for her after school like she asked.
The hallway slowly emptied. Lockers slammed. Voices faded. My classmates flowed out of the building in groups, pairs, alone. The car Nyra had pointed out was still parked across the street when I looked through the front doors.
I couldn't see inside.
"Maybe I should call Mom," I muttered to myself. "Tell her I'll be a bit—"
A hand clamped down on my shoulder.
I flinched and spun, heart hammering, veins buzzing for a second
It was only Mr. Harris, the history teacher.
"School's closing up, Kian," he said. "You heading out?"
"Yeah, I'm just waiting for—"
I glanced down the corridor.
Nyra wasn't there.
She was supposed to meet me by now. She was always early, never late. She moved like someone who calculated every second of her day.
"Have you seen Nyra?" I asked.
"Nyra?" He frowned. "New girl? Quiet one?"
"Yeah."
"Think I saw her about ten minutes ago, heading toward the back exit." He shrugged. "Maybe her ride came."
Nyra didn't have a ride. She walked. Same as me.
A restless, crawling feeling spread through my chest.
"Is something wrong?" Mr. Harris asked.
No. Yes. I don't know.
"I'm fine," I said automatically. "I'll go now."
He nodded and walked away.
As soon as he turned the corner, I went the other direction.
Not toward the front gate.
Toward the back exit.
The back of the school always felt different.
Quieter. The paint more peeled, the dumpsters lined up like ugly metal monsters, the fence here older and bent. The official student parking lot was out front. Back here, there was only a cracked strip of asphalt where delivery trucks sometimes came.
And one black van.
It sat near the far end of the lot, engine off, windows dark, no logo. My heartbeat thudded in my ears.
The door to the back exit creaked when I pushed it open.
"Nyra?" I called.
No answer.
"Nyra, if this is some kind of paranoid training exercise, it's not funny."
Still nothing.
I stepped out, the air cooler on this side of the building. A crow cawed somewhere on a rooftop. The van didn't move.
I took another step.
That's when I saw it something small and silver on the ground near the door. I crouched and picked it up.
A hairpin.
Simple. Unremarkable. Except I knew it. Nyra wore it every day, clipping back one side of her hair. I'd seen her adjust it a hundred times.
My fingers tightened around it.
"Nyra," I whispered.
The van's side door slid open.
Two men jumped out. Dark clothes. Gloves. Masks.
Run, my brain screamed.
My legs didn't listen fast enough.
One man lunged. Cold hands grabbed my arms, twisting them behind my back. Pain shot up my shoulders. I gasped.
"Got him," a voice muttered near my ear.
The other man scanned the area quickly, then nodded. "No witnesses. Move fast."
Panic detonated in my chest.
"What are you doing?" I choked. "Let go of me!"
"We just want to talk, Kian," the second man said smoothly. "About your… special condition."
My veins tingled, heat rushing up my arms.
"No," I gasped. "Don't."
The first man shoved me toward the van. "If you cooperate, no one gets hurt. That girl already made things complicated enough."
The world dropped out from under my feet.
"Girl?" I rasped. "What did you do to Nyra?"
He laughed. "Don't worry. Our friends are handling her. She was a lot more trouble than you."
Nyra.
Something inside me snapped.
The buzzing in my ears roared. My heart slammed so hard it hurt. Blue light sparked at the edges of my vision.
"Stop it," the second man hissed. "He's reacting. Sedate him if you have to."
A needle glinted in the first man's hand.
They were going to take me. They had Nyra. They hurt her. They….
No.
The word wasn't mine.
It echoed through my skull like a bell made of stars. Deep. Ancient. Furious.
The air thickened. The world… slowed.
The needle's arc toward my neck became syrup-slow. The men's expressions stretched like rubber, mouths forming curses they would never finish.
My veins lit up, flooding my arms with cold fire.
Time shuddered.
For a heartbeat, I saw everything from far, far above. The cracked asphalt. The van. The two men. The school. The city. The planet.
So small.
You are mine, a voice murmured inside my head, smooth and terrifyingly gentle. You are my vessel. My prince. Who dares to put their hands on what belongs to me?
I couldn't speak. I couldn't breathe. I could only burn.
The needle stopped a hair's breadth from my skin.
Then, with a sound like the world cracking, reality snapped.
The men flew backwards as if hit by an invisible explosion. The van's metal screamed, denting inward. Windows shattered outward in a spray of glass that hung in the air, glinting, before dropping all at once.
I dropped to my knees, lungs dragging in air like I'd been underwater for hours. The blue light in my veins burned so bright it hurt to look at my own hands.
The two men hit the ground hard, groaning. One wasn't moving.
I stared at them, chest heaving.
I did that.
Or… something through me did.
Nyra.
The thought cut through the white noise.
They said their "friends" were handling her. Which meant somewhere, maybe not far, she was alone. Fighting. Or already
No.
I pushed myself to my feet, swaying. The world tilted, then steadied. Blue light still pulsed under my skin, but dimmer now. Contained. Barely.
I stumbled toward the nearest man, grabbed his collar, and shook him.
"Where is she?" I hissed. "What did you do to Nyra?"
His head lolled, eyes unfocused. Blood trickled from his nose.
"Facility…" he slurred. "Orders… bring you both…"
"Where?" I shouted.
He smiled, slow and red. "Too late."
Rage surged up, hot and blinding.
The blue in my veins flared.
The asphalt under us cracked like ice.
The man screamed.
I let him go, panting, horrified by how easy it would be to crush him without touching him.
The voice inside me chuckled softly.
Yes, it purred. This is better. This is honest.
"Shut up," I snarled aloud.
Silence answered.
I looked at the broken van, at the shattered glass, at the faint footprints on the ground leading away from the school. Boot prints. Drag marks.
Nyra's hairpin dug into my palm, the metal biting my skin.
"I'm coming," I whispered, not sure if she could hear me, not sure if anyone could. "Hold on. Please."
The blue light flickered in agreement.
For the first time in my life, I didn't try to suppress it.
I followed the tracks.