The God’s presence intensifies whenever the chaos mage draws near her, as if recognizing something long lost, something stolen.
The God does not want her dead.
The God wants her whole.
The Absentia challenge will push her to her limits, force her to break or rise. But it’s not just a test of her will. The shadows will not merely watch her.
They will mark her.
They will claim her.
And when the time comes… so will he.
I close my eyes against the certainty of it, against the vision of what comes next. The shadows press closer, almost eager, sensing my weakness. I push them back with a thought.
Not yet. But Soon.
Chapter 1
Kaia
I wake to a tangle of limbs and shadows, my bed a battlefield of masculine bodies and writhing darkness. For a moment, I'm convinced I'm still dreaming, or trapped in some bizarre shadow realm where personal space doesn't exist and everyone is unnervingly attractive.
But no. This is real. This is my life now.
I, Kaia Draven, formerly unremarkable shadow student, am now the talk of Arcanum Academy. And apparently a living, breathing teddy bear for four impossibly hot guys who decided my bed was communal property.
I blink, vision adjusting to the dim light filtering through heavy curtains. Aspen's icy blue gaze meets mine, a gentle smile curving his lips. He's perched on the edge of the bed, rigid-backed and alert, like he's been keeping watch all night.
"Morning, little star," he murmurs, reaching out to brush a strand of tousled blonde hair from my face.
His fingers ghost against my cheek, and my skin prickles with awareness. I try to sit up, but there's a heavy arm draped across my waist. Torric,golden eyes still clouded with sleep, tightens his grip. "Five more minutes," he grumbles into my shoulder, his breath hot against my skin.
On my other side, Malrik stirs, silver-gray eyes flickering open. Even first thing in the morning, he looks like he just stepped out of a dark fairy tale—all pale elegance and seductive danger. "Good morning, nightshade," he purrs, his voice like silk against skin that shouldn't be this sensitive.
And at the foot of the bed, sprawled out like an oversized cat, Finn lifts his head. His auburn hair is a disaster, but his green eyes sparkle with mischief. "Well, well, sleeping beauty awakens. And here I thought we'd need true love's kiss to rouse you."
I snort, even as my heart flips in my chest. "You guys do realize this isn't actually a slumber party, right? What happened to your own beds?"
They exchange glances, a silent conversation passing between them that makes my chest tighten. It's Aspen who finally speaks, his voice soft but edged. "We couldn't leave you alone. Not after everything that happened."
Right. Everything that happened.
The battle. The revelations. The terrifying surge of power that had coursed through me, electric and ancient and so much bigger than I could handle. The wings. Always the wings.
I feel it, sharp and low, like dread, as the memories flood back: the arena floor cracking beneath my feet, shadows exploding outward, my body rising into the air, lifted by something ancient and wild pulsing just beneath my skin. The wings. The silence that followed. The fear in their eyes.
I force a grin, because if I don't joke about this, I might start screaming. Or crying. Or both, which would really ruin the whole badass Valkyrie image I'm apparently supposed to maintain. "Well, I guess I really messedup this time? Nothing says 'new girl' quite like unleashing ancient Valkyrie powers and nearly bringing down the academy."
My attempt at humor falls flat. Concern flashes across their faces—even Finn's—and I feel the weight of their gazes like physical pressure against my skin. Finn's usual grin fades, replaced by something serious that doesn't belong on his face.
"Kaia... it's okay if you're not okay, you know?"
For a moment, I freeze. Just a breath. Then—"Who says I'm not okay?" I snap, sharper than I mean to.
I need to look anywhere but at them, at the concern in their eyes that makes me want to crawl out of my skin or maybe just crawl into their arms. So I glance toward the far corner of the room and spot Mouse perched on the edge of a chair, his small form somehow managing to exude both curiosity and authority. He's watching the other shadows like a king overseeing his court, his delicate tail twitching in time with their movements.
"Mouse has been busy," I murmur, sitting up despite Torric's grumbled protest.
